Chapter 19 A BRUSH ON THE FRONTIER.

Tell me not, love, I am unkind,

That from the nunnery

Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind

To war and arms I fly.

The reign of peace and pleasure was not destined to last through the summer undisturbed. Conflicts, more serious than those which were agitating poor Boldero's breast, broke in upon the tranquil season and caused a hurried di