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FOEEST DAYS 
 
 A ROMANCE OF OLD TIMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
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 Wk 
 
rOEEST DAYS 
 
 A ROMANCE OF OLD TIMKS, 
 
 BY 
 
 G. p. E. JAMES, ESQ. 
 
 AUTHOR OF *' 3I0RLEY EENSTEIN," " THE ROBBER,' 
 ETC. ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET. 
 
 1843. 
 

 TO 
 
 JAMES MILNES GASKILL, ESQ. M.P, 
 
 &c. &c. &c. ; 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 
 In offering you a book, which I fear is little 
 worthy of your acceptance, and a compliment 
 which has become valueless, I cannot help ex- 
 pressing my regret at having no other means of 
 testifying my esteem and respect for one, who has 
 not only always shown a most kindly feeling 
 towards myself and my works, but^ has ever 
 advocated the true interests of literature. You 
 will, nevertheless, I am sure, receive the tri- 
 bute not unwillingly, however inadequate it may 
 be to convey my thanks for many an act of 
 kindness or to express a feeling of high esteem 
 founded on no light basis. 
 
VI DEDICATION. 
 
 In the volumes I send, you will find many 
 scenes Vv^itli which you are familiar, both in his- 
 tory and in nature ; but one thing, perhaps, will 
 strike you with some surprise. We have been 
 so much accustomed, in ballad and story, to see 
 the hero of the forest, Robin Hood, placed in 
 the days of Richard I., that it will seem, per- 
 haps, somev/hat bold in me to depict him as 
 living and acting in the reign of Henry III. 
 But I think, if you will turn to those old his- 
 torians, with whose writings you are not unfami- 
 liar, you will find that he v/as, as I have repre- 
 sented, an English yeoman, of a very superior 
 mind, living in the times in which I have placed 
 him, outlawed, in all probability, for his ad- 
 herence to the popular party of the da}^, and 
 taking a share in the important struggle between 
 the w^eak and tyrannical, though accomplished, 
 Henry III., and that great and extraordinary 
 leader, Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester. 
 
 In regard to the conduct of my story, I have 
 nothing to say, but that I wish it were better. 
 
DEDICATIOX. Vll 
 
 I think, however, that it will be found to con- 
 tain some striking scenes of those times ; and 
 I trust that the struggle of feelings, depicted 
 in the third volume, may afford you matter of 
 some interest. 
 
 Believe me to be. 
 
 My Dear Sir, 
 With the highest esteem, 
 
 Your most faithful servant, 
 
 G. P. R. JAMES. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Merry England ! — Oh, merry England ! What 
 a difference has there always been between thee 
 and every other land ! What a cheerfulness 
 there seems to hang about thy very name ! 
 What yeoman-like hilarity is there in all the 
 thoughts of the past ! What a spirit of sylvan 
 cheer and rustic hardihood in all the tales of thy 
 old times ! 
 
 When England was altogether an agricultural 
 land — when a rude plough produced an abun- 
 dant harvest, and a thin, but hardy and gener- 
 ous peasantry, devoted themselves totally to the 
 cultivation of the earth, — when wide forests 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 waved their green boughs over many of the 
 richest manufacturing districts of Great Britain, 
 and the lair of the fawn and the bun'ow of the 
 coney were found, where now appear the fabric 
 and the mill, there stood, in a small town, or 
 rather, I should call it, village, some fourteen 
 miles from Pontefract, a neat little inn, well 
 known to all the wayfarers on the road as a com- 
 fortable resting place, where they could dine on 
 their journey to or from the larger city. 
 
 The house was constructed of wood, and was 
 but of two stories ; but let it not be supposed 
 on that account that it was devoid of ornament, 
 for manifold were the quaint carvings and rude 
 pieces of sculpture with which it was decorated, 
 and not small had been the pains which had 
 been bestowed upon mouldings and cornices, 
 and lintels and door-posts by the hand of more 
 than one laborious artisan. Indeed, altogether, 
 it was a very elaborate piece of work, and had 
 probably been originally built for other purposes 
 than that which it now served ; for many were 
 the changes which had taken place in that part 
 of the country, as well as over the rest of Eng- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 3 
 
 land, between the days I speak of, and those of 
 a century before. 
 
 Any one who examined the house closely, 
 would have seen that it must have been con- 
 structed before the year 1180, for there was very 
 strong proof, in the forms of the windows, and 
 the cutting across of several of the beams which 
 traversed the front, that at the period of its 
 erection the use of glazed casements in private 
 houses was not know^n. At the time I speak 
 of, however, glass had become plentiful in Eng- 
 land, and, though cottages were seldom orna- 
 mented with anything like a lattice, yet no 
 house with the rank and dignity of an inn, 
 where travellers might stop in rainy and bois- 
 terous weather, was now without windows, 
 formed of manifold small lozenge-shaped pieces 
 of glass, like those still frequently employed in 
 churches, only of a smaller size. 
 
 The inn was a gay-looking, cheerful place, 
 either in fine weather or in foul ; for, as there 
 are some men who, clothe them as you will, have 
 a distinguished and graceful air, so are there 
 some dwellings which look sunshiny and bright, 
 
 Bg 
 
4 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 let the aspect of the sky be what it will. The 
 upper story of the house projected beyond the 
 lower, and formed of itself a sort of portico, 
 giving a shelter to two long benches placed be- 
 neath it, either from the heat of the summer sun, 
 or the rain of the spring and autumn ; and it need 
 not be said that these benches formed the fa- 
 vourite resting place of sundry old men on bright 
 summer evenings ; and that many a time, in fine 
 weather, a table would be put out upon the 
 green before the house, the bench offering seats 
 on one side, while settles and stools gave ac- 
 commodation on the other, to many a merry 
 party round the good roast beef and humming 
 ale. 
 
 Before the door of the inn, spread out one 
 of those pleasant open pieces of ground, which 
 generally found room for themselves in every 
 country village in England; on which the 
 sports of the place were held; to which the 
 jockey brought his horse for sale, and tried his 
 paces up and down ; on which many a wrestler 
 took a fall, and cudgel-player got a broken head. 
 There too, in their season, were the merry may- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 5 
 
 pole and the dance, the tabor and the pipe. 
 There was many a maiden wooed and won ; and 
 there passed along all the three processions of 
 life — the infant to the font, the bride to the 
 altar, the corpse to the grave. 
 
 Various were the memories attached to that 
 village green in the hearts of all the neigh- 
 bourhood ; various were the associations which 
 it called up in every bosom ; and various were 
 the romances, probably much better worth listen- 
 ing to than this that we are going to tell, which 
 that village green could have related. It had 
 all the things pertaining to its character and 
 profession: it had a drj^, clear, sandy horse- 
 road running at one side, it had two foot-paths 
 crossing each other in the middle, it had a tall 
 clump of elms on the south side, with a well, 
 and an iron ladle underneath. It had a pond, 
 which was kept clear by a spring at the bot- 
 tom, welling constantly over at the side next 
 the road, and forming a little rivulet, full of 
 pricklebacks, flowing on towards a small river at 
 some distance. It had its row of trees on tho 
 side next to the church, with the priest's house 
 
b FOREST DAYS. 
 
 at the corner. The surface was irregular, just 
 sufficiently so to let some of the young people, 
 in any of their merry meetings, get out of sight 
 of their elders for a minute or two ; and the 
 whole was covered with that short, dry, green 
 turf, which is only to be found upon a healthy 
 sandy soil. In short, dear reader, it was as per- 
 fect a village green as ever was seen, and I 
 should hke very much, if such a thing were 
 possible, to transport you and me to the bench 
 before the inn door on some fine afternoon in 
 the end of the month of June, and there, with 
 a white jug of clear Nottingham ale before us, 
 while the sun sunk down behind the forest, and 
 the sky began to glow with his slant rays, to 
 tell you the tale which is about to follow, mark- 
 ing in your face the signs of interest which you 
 would doubtless show — the hope, the fear, the 
 expectation, perhaps the smile of surprise, per- 
 haps the glistening drop of sympathy — suffering 
 you to inten-upt and ask a question here and 
 there, but not too often — forgiving a moment's 
 impatience when the tale was dull, and thanking 
 you in the end for your friendship towards the 
 
FOREST DAYS. ? 
 
 good and noble who lived and died more than 
 five centuries ago. 
 
 In truth, reader, you know not what a plea- 
 sure there is — when the mind is clear from care 
 or sorrow, the heart w^ell attuned, the object 
 a good one, and the tale interesting — ^you know 
 not what a pleasure there is, to sit down and 
 tell a long story to those who are worthy of hear- 
 ing one. 
 
 And now, having made a somewhat wide ex- 
 cursion, and finding it difficult to get back again 
 to the tale by any easy and gradual process, I 
 will, even in this place, close the first chapter, 
 which, by your leave, shall serve for a Preface 
 and Introduction both. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 It was in the spring of the year, somewhere 
 about the period whieh good old Chaueer de- 
 scribes in the beginning of his Canterbury Tales, 
 
 *' Whanne that April vv'tli his slioures sote, 
 The droughtc of March hatli perced to the rote. 
 And bathed every veine in sv/iche licour, 
 Of whiche vertue engendred is the flow'r :" 
 
 it was also towards the decline of the day, 
 and the greater part of the travellers who 
 visited the inn for an hour, on their way home- 
 ward fi'om the ^neighbouring towns, had be- 
 taken themselves to the road, in order to get 
 under the shelter of their own roof ere the 
 night fell, when, at one of the tables in the low- 
 
FOtlEST DAYS. 9 
 
 pitched parlour — the beams of which must have 
 caused any wayfarer of six feet high to bend his 
 head — might still be seen a man in the garb of a 
 countryman, sitting with a great, black leathern 
 jug before him, and one or two horns round 
 about, besides the one out of which he himself 
 was drinking. 
 
 A slice of a brown loaf toasted at the embers, 
 and which he dipped from time to time in his cup, 
 was the only solid food that he seemed inclined 
 to take ; and, to say sooth, it probably might not 
 have been very convenient for him to call for 
 any very costly viands — at least, if one might 
 judge by his dress, which, though good, and not 
 very old, w^as of the poorest and the homeliest 
 kind — plain hodden-gre}^ cloth, of a coarse 
 fabric, with leathern leggings and wooden-soled 
 shoes. 
 
 The garb of the countryman, however, was 
 not the only thing worthy of remark in his 
 appearance. His form had that peculiarity 
 which is not usually considered a perfection, 
 and is termed a hump ; not that there was ex- 
 actly, upon either shoulder, one of those largo 
 13 3 
 
10 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 knobs which is sometimes so designated, but 
 there was a general roundness above his blade- 
 bones — a sort of domineering effort of his neck 
 to keep down his head — which gave him a clear 
 title to the appellation of hunchback. 
 
 In other respects he was not an unseemly man 
 — his legs were stout and well turned, his arms 
 brawny and long, his chest singularly wide for a 
 deformed person, and his grey eyes large, bright, 
 and sparkling. His nose was somewhat long and 
 pointed, and was not only a prominent feature, 
 but a very distinguished one in his countenance. 
 It was one of those noses which have a great 
 deal of expression in them. There was a 
 good deal of fun and sly memment about the 
 corners of his mouth and under his eyelids, but 
 his nose was decidedly the point of the epigram, 
 standing out a sort of sharp apex to a shrewdy 
 merry, ferret-like face ; and, as high mountains 
 generally catch the sunshine either in the rise 
 or the decline of the day, and glow with the rosy 
 hue of morning before the rest of the country 
 round obtains the rays, so had the light of the 
 vine settled in purple brightness on the highest 
 
FOREST DAYS, 11 
 
 feature of his face, gradually melting away into 
 a healthy red over the rest of his countenance. 
 
 He wore his beard close shaven, as if he had 
 been a priest; but his eyebrows, which were 
 very prominent, and his hair, which hung in 
 three or four detached locks over his sun-burnt 
 brow and upon his aspiring neck, though they 
 had once been as black as a raven's wing, were 
 now very nearly white 
 
 With this face and form sat the peasant at the 
 table, sopping his bread in the contents of his 
 jug, and from time to time looking down into 
 the bottom of the pot with one eye, as if to 
 ascertain how much was left. He stirred not 
 from his seat, nor even turned his head away 
 from the window, though a very pretty girl of 
 some eighteen years of age looked in at him 
 from time to time, and his was a face which 
 announced that the owner thereof had at one 
 time of his life had sweet things to say to all 
 the black eyes he met with. 
 
 At length, however, the sound of a trotting 
 horse was heard, and the peasant exclaimed, 
 eagerly ■— " Here, Kate ! Kate !— you merry 
 
12 FOREST DAYo. 
 
 compound of the woman and the serpent, take 
 away the jack; they're coming now. Away 
 with it, good girl ! I mustn't be found drink- 
 ing wine of Bourdeaux. Give me a tankard of 
 ale, girl. How does the room smell ?" 
 
 " Like a friar's cell," said the girl, taking up 
 the black jack wdth a laugh. " Grape juice, 
 W'cU fermented, and a brown toast beside." 
 
 " Get thee gone, slut !" cried the peasant, 
 " what dost thou know of friars' cells ? Too 
 much, I misdoubt me. Bring the ale, I say — 
 and spill a drop on the floor, to give a new 
 flavour to the room." 
 
 '' I'll bring thee a sprig of rue, Hardy," said 
 the girl ; " it will give out odour enough. Put it 
 in thy posset when thou gett'st home ; it will 
 sweeten thy blood, and whiten thy nose." 
 
 " Away with thee," cried the man she called 
 Hardy, " or I'll kiss thee before company." 
 
 The girl darted away as her companion rose 
 from his seat with an appearance of putting, at 
 least, one part of his threat in execution, and 
 returned a minute after, bearing in her hand 
 tlie ale he had demanded. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 13 
 
 " Spill some— spill some !" cried the peasant. 
 But as she seemed to think such a proceed- 
 ing, in respect to good liquor, a sin and a 
 shame, the peasant was obliged to bring it 
 about hir iself in a way which the manners of 
 those da s rendered not uncommon. 
 
 The girl set down the tankard on the table, 
 and, with her pretty brown fingers still wet 
 with a portion of the ale which had gone over, 
 bestowed a buffet on the side of the peasant's 
 head which made his ear tingle for a moment, 
 and then carefully wiped her mouth with the 
 corner of her apron, as if to remove every 
 vestige of his salute. 
 
 As nearly as possible at the same moment that 
 she was thus clearing her lips, the feet of the horse 
 which had been heard coming, stopped at the door 
 of the inn ; and loud applications for attendance 
 called the girl away from her coquettish sparring 
 with Hardy, who, resuming his seat, put the 
 tankard of ale to his lips, and did not seem to find 
 it unpalatable, notwithstanding the Bourdeaux 
 by which it had been preceded. At the same 
 timcj however, a considerable change took place 
 
14 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 in his appearance. His neck became more 
 bent, his shoulders were thrown more forward ; 
 he untied the points at the back of his doublet, 
 so that it appeared somewhat too loose for his 
 figure; he drew the hair, too, more over his 
 forehead, suffered his cheeks to fall in, and by 
 these and other slight operations he contrived 
 to make himself look fully fifteen years older 
 than he had done the minute before. 
 
 While this was going on, there had been all 
 that little bustle and noise at the door of the inn 
 which usually accompanied the reception of a 
 guest in those days, when landlords thought they 
 could not testify sufficient honour and respect to 
 an arriving customer without mingling their 
 gratulations with scoldings of the horse-boys 
 and tapsters, and manifold loud-tongued direc- 
 tions to chamberlains and maids. 
 
 At length the good host, with his stout, round 
 person clothed in close-fitting garments, which 
 displayed every weal of fat under his skin, led in 
 a portly well-looking man, of about thirty, or five- 
 and-thirty years of age, bearing the cognizance 
 of some noble house embroidered on liis shoulder. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 15 
 
 He was evidently, to judge by his dress and ap- 
 pearance, one of the favourite servants of some 
 great man, and a stout, frank, hearty, EngUsh 
 yeoman he seemed to be ; a Uttle consequential 
 withal, and having a decidedly high opinion of 
 his own powers, mental and corporeal, but good- 
 humom'ed and gay, and as ready to take as to 
 give. 
 
 " Not come !" he said, as he entered, talking 
 over his shoulder to the landlord — " not come ! 
 That is strange enough. Why, I was kept more 
 than half an hour at Barnsley Green to be the 
 judge of a wrestling match. They would have 
 me, God help us, so I was afraid they would be 
 here before mc. Well, give us a stoup of good 
 liquor to discuss the time ; I must not say give 
 it of the best — the best is for my lord — but I do 
 not see why the second best should not be for 
 my lord's man ; so let us have it quick, before 
 these people come, and use your discretion as to 
 the quahty." 
 
 The wine that he demanded was soon sup- 
 plied, and being set upon the table at which 
 the peasant was seated, the lord's man took liis 
 
16 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 place on the other side, and naturally looked for 
 a moment in the face of his table-fellow ; while 
 the landlord stood by, with his fat stomach over- 
 hanging the board, and his eyes fixed upon the 
 countenance of his new guest, to mark therein 
 the approbation of his wine which he antici- 
 pated. The lord's man was not slow in proving 
 the goodness of the liquor ; but, without employ- 
 ing the horn cup, which the host set down be- 
 side the tankard, he lifted the latter to his mouth, 
 drank a good deep draught, took a long sigh, 
 drank again, and then nodded his head to the 
 landlord, with a look expressive of perfect satis- 
 faction. 
 
 After a few words between my host and 
 his guest, in which Hardy took no part, but 
 sat with his head bent over his ale, with the 
 look of a man both tired and weakly, the land- 
 lord withdrew to his avocations, and the lord's 
 man, fixing his eyes for a moment upon his op- 
 posite neighbour, asked, in a kindly but pa- 
 tronising tone — 
 
 " What have you got there, ploughman ? 
 Thin ale, — isn't it ? Come, take a cup of some- 
 
FORKST DAYt<. 17 
 
 thing belter, tu cheer thee. These are bad time?, 
 arVt they ? Ay, I never yet met a delver in 
 the earth that did not find fauU with God's 
 seasons. Here, drink that ; it will make your 
 wheat look ten times greener ! Were I a plough- 
 man, I'd water my fields with such showers as 
 this, taken daily down my own throat. We 
 should have no grumbling at bad crops then." 
 
 " I grumble not," replied the hunchback, 
 taking the horn, and draining it slowly, sip by 
 sip, " my crops grow green and plentiful. Little's 
 the labour that my land costs in tillage, and yet 
 I get a fat harvest in the season ; and moreover, 
 no offence, good sir, but I would rather be my 
 own man and Heaven's, than any other per- 
 son's." 
 
 " Not if you had as good a lord as I have," 
 answered the serving-man, colouring a little, 
 notwithstanding. " One is as free in his house 
 as on Salisbury-plain ; it's a pleasure to do his 
 Ijidding. He's a friend, too, of the peasant 
 and the citizen, and the good De Montfort. 
 He's no foreign minion, but a true English- 
 
18 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " Here's his health, then/' said the peasant. 
 " Is your lord down in these parts ?" 
 
 " Ay, is he," replied the lord's man — " no far- 
 ther off than Doncaster, and I am here to meet 
 sundry gentlemen, who are riding down this way 
 to York, to tell them that their assembling may 
 not be quite safe there, so that they must fix 
 upon another place." 
 
 " Ho, ho !" said the peasant, " some new out- 
 break toward, against the foreigners. Well 
 down with them, I say, and up with the English 
 yeomen. But who have we here? — Some of 
 those you come to seek, I'll warrant. — Let us 
 look at their faces." And going round the table, 
 with a slow, and somewhat feeble step, he placed 
 his eye to one of the small lozenges of glass in 
 the casement, and gazed out for a minute or 
 two, while the serving-man followed his exam- 
 ple, and took a survey of some new travellers 
 who had amved, before they were ushered into 
 the general reception room. 
 
 " Do you know him ?" asked the peasant. " 1 
 think I have seen that dark face down here be- 
 fore." 
 
FOREST DAYS. 19 
 
 "Ay, I know him," answered the serving- 
 man. " He's a kinsman of the Earl of Ashby, 
 one of our people, whom I came principally to 
 meet. He's a handsome gentleman, and fair 
 spoken, though somewhat black about the 
 muzzle." 
 
 " If his heart be as black as his face," said 
 the peasant, " I would keep what I had got to 
 say for the Earl's ears, before I gave it to his, 
 were I in your place." 
 
 " Ha ! say you so ?" demanded the lord's 
 man. " Me thinks you know more of him, 
 ploughman, than you tell us." 
 
 " Not much," replied the other, " and what I 
 do know is not very good, so one must be care- 
 ful in the telling." 
 
 " What keeps him, I wonder ?" said the serv- 
 ing-man, after having returned to the table, and 
 sipped some more of his wine. 
 
 "He's toying without, I'll aver," said the 
 peasant, " with pretty Kate, the landlord's 
 daughter. He had better not let young Harland, 
 the franklin's son, see him, or his poll and a 
 crab-stick cudgel may be better acquainted. It 
 
20 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 had well iiigli bGcii so three months ago, when 
 he was down here last." 
 
 These words were said in an undertone, for 
 while one of two scn'ants, who had accompanied 
 the subject of their discourse, led away the 
 horses to the stable, and the other kept the 
 landlord talking before the inn, there was a 
 sound of whispering and suppressed laughter 
 behind the door of the room, which seemed to 
 show that the Earl of Ashby's kinsman was not 
 far off, and was employed in the precise occu- 
 pation which the peasant had assigned to him. 
 
 The serving-man wisely held his tongue, and, 
 in a minute after, the door opened, and gave 
 entrance to a man somewhat above the middle 
 size, of a slim and graceful figure, the thinness 
 of which did not seem to indicate weakness, but 
 rather sinewy activity. He was dressed in close- 
 fitting garments of a dark marone tint, with 
 riding-boots, and spurs without rowels. Over 
 the tight coat I have mentioned, coming half- 
 way down his thigh, was a loose garment called 
 a tabard, of philimot colour, apparently to keep 
 his dress from the dust, and above it again a green 
 
FOREST DAYS. 2 
 
 hood, which was now thrown back upon his shoul- 
 ders. His sword peeped from under his tabard, 
 and the hilt of his dagger showed itself, also, on 
 the other side. His air was easy and self-possessed, 
 but there was a quick and furtive glance of the 
 eye fi'om object to object, as he entered the 
 room, which gave the impression that there was 
 a cunning and inquisitive spirit within. His 
 face was certainly handsome, though pale and 
 dark ; his beard was short and black, and his 
 hair, which w^as remarkably fine and glossy, had 
 been left to grow long, and was platted like that 
 of a woman. His hand was white and fine, and 
 it was evident that he paid no slight attention to 
 his dress, by the tremendous length of the points 
 of his boots, which were embroidered to repre- 
 sent a serpent, and buttoned to his knees with a 
 small loop of gold. His hood, too, was strangely 
 ornamented with various figures embroidered 
 roimd the edge : and yet so great was the extra- 
 vagance of the period, that his apparel would 
 then have been considered much less costly 
 than that of most men of his rank, for his reve- 
 nues were by far too limited, and his other ex- 
 penses too many and too frequent, to permit of 
 
22 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 his indulging to the full his taste for splendid 
 garments. 
 
 As this personage entered the room, the 
 sharp glance of the serving-man detected the 
 figure of Kate, the host's daughter, gliding away 
 from the opening door, but, turning his head 
 discreetly, he fixed his eyes upon the new- 
 comer wdth a low reverence, advancing at the 
 same time towards him. 
 
 The Earl's kinsman, however, either did not, 
 or affected not to know the person who ap- 
 proached him, and the lord's man was obliged to 
 enter into explanations as to who he was, and 
 what w^as his errand. 
 
 "Ha!" said Richard de Ashby, "danger at 
 York, is there? My good lord, your master, 
 has brought us down here for nothing, then, it 
 seems. I know^ not how my kinsman, the Earl 
 of Ashby, will take this, for he loves not journey- 
 ing to be disappointed." 
 
 " My lord does not intend to disappoint the 
 Earl," replied the serving-man ; " he wdll give 
 him the meeting in the course of to-morrow — 
 somewhere." 
 
 "Know you not where?" demanded the 
 
FOREST DAYS. 23 
 
 gentleman ; and, as the servant turned his eyes, 
 with a doubtful glance, to the spot where the 
 peasant was seated, the other added, " Come 
 hither with me upon the green, where there are 
 no idle ears to overhear." 
 
 If his words were meant as a hint for Hardy 
 to quit the room, it was not taken ; for the 
 hunchback remained fixed to the table, having 
 recourse fi'om time to time to his jug of ale, and 
 looking towards the door more than once, after 
 Sir Richard and the lord's man had quitted the 
 chamber. 
 
 Their conference was apparently long, and 
 at length, first one of the gentleman's servants, 
 and then another, entered the little low-roofed 
 room, and approached the table at which the 
 peasant sat. 
 
 "Hallo! what hast thou got here, bumpkin?" 
 cried one of them — " wine for such a carle as 
 thou art!" and, as he spoke, he took up the 
 tankard from which the serving-man had been 
 drinking. 
 
 "That is neither thine nor mine," replied 
 Hardy, " so you had better let it alone." 
 
24 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " Heyday !" cried the servant of the great 
 man's kinsman, " rated by a hump-backed 
 ploughman ! If it be not thine, fellow, hold 
 thy tongue, for it can be nothing to thee ! I 
 shall take leave to make free Avith it, however," 
 and, pouring out a cup, he tossed it off. 
 
 " You must be a poor rogue," said the pea* 
 sant, "to be so fond of drinking at another 
 man's cost, as not to pay for your liquor even 
 by a civil word. 
 
 " What is that he says ?" cried the man, 
 turning to his companion — for, to say sooth, 
 although he had heard every word, he was not 
 quite prepared to act upon them, being one of 
 those who are much more ready to bully and 
 brawl, than to take part in a fray they have 
 provoked — " what is that he says ?" 
 
 "He called thee a poor rogue, Timothy," 
 said his companion. " Turn him out by the 
 heels, the misbegotten lump !" 
 
 " Out with him !" cried the other, seeing 
 that his comrade was inclined to stand by him, 
 " Out with him !" and he advanced, menacingly, 
 upon the peasant. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 25 
 
 " Hold yoiir hands ! — hold your hands !" said 
 Hardy, shaking his head — "I am an old man, 
 and not so well made as you two varlets, but I 
 don't 'bide a blow from any poor kinsman's 
 half-starved curs ! — Take care, my men ! " and 
 as one of them approached rather too near, he 
 struck him a blow, without rising from his stool, 
 which made him measure his length upon the 
 rushes that strewed the floor, crying out at the 
 same time, in a whining tone, " To think of 
 two huge fellows falling upon a poor, deformed 
 old body." 
 
 It so happened that the personage Avhom the 
 peasant had knocked down was the braver man 
 of the two ; and, starting up, he rushed fiercely 
 upon his adversary ; which his companion espy- 
 ing, darted upon Hardy at the same moment, 
 and by a dexterous kick of his foot knocked the 
 stool from under him, thus bringing the hunch- 
 back and his own comrade to the ground together. 
 Pie then caught their enemy by the collar, and 
 held his head firmly down upon the floor with 
 both hands, as one has sometimes seen a child 
 do with a refractory kitten. 
 
 VOL. T. c 
 
26 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " Baste him, Dickon — baste him !'* he cried. 
 
 " I'll give him a dip in the horse-pond," said 
 the other ; " his nose will make the water fizz 
 like a red-hot horse-shoe." 
 
 At that moment, however, the noise occa- 
 sioned by such boisterous proceedings called in 
 pretty Kate Greenly, the landlord's daughter, 
 who, although she had a great reverence and 
 regard for all the serving men of Richard de 
 Ashby, was not fond of seeing poor Hardy ill 
 treated. Glancing eagerly round, while the 
 peasant strove with his two opponents, she 
 seized a pail of water which stood behind the 
 parlour door, and following the plan which she 
 had seen her father pursue with the bulldog 
 and mastiff which tenanted the back yard, she 
 dashed the whole of the contents over the com- 
 batants as they lay struggling on the ground. 
 
 All three started up, panting; but the gain 
 was certainly on the part of Hardy, who, freed 
 from the grasp of his adversaries, caught up the 
 three-legged stool on which he had been sit- 
 ting, and whirling it hghtly above his head, pre- 
 pared to defend himself therewith against his 
 
FOREST DAYS. ^7 
 
 assailants ; who, on their part, with their rage 
 heightened rather than assuaged by the cool 
 libation which Kate had poured upon them, 
 drew the short swords that they carried, and 
 were rushing upon the old peasant with no very 
 merciful intent. 
 
 Kate Greenly now screamed aloud, exerting 
 her pretty little throat to the utmost, and her 
 cries soon brought in the lord's man, followed, 
 somewhat slowly, by Richard de Ashby. The 
 good landlord himself — having established as a 
 rule, both oat of regard for his own person and 
 for the custom of his house, never to interfere 
 in any quarrels if he could possibly avoid it, 
 which rule had produced, on certain occasions, 
 great obtuseness in sight and in hearing — kept 
 out of the way, and indeed removed himself to 
 the stable upon the pretence of looking after his 
 guests' horses. 
 
 The lord's man, however, with the true spirit 
 of an English yeoman, dashed at once into the 
 fray, taking instant part with the weakest. 
 
 " Come, come !" he cried, placing himself by 
 Hardy's side, " two men against one — and he 
 c 2 
 
28 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 an old one ! Out upon it ! Stand off, or I'll 
 break your jaws for you !" 
 
 This accession to the forces of their adver- 
 sary staggered the two servants, and a momen- 
 tary pause took place, in which their master's 
 voice was at last heard. 
 
 " What! brawling, fools !" he exclaimed. "We 
 have something else to think of now. Stand 
 back, and let the old man go ! Get you gone, 
 ploughman ; and don't let me find you snarling 
 with a gentleman's servants again, or I will put 
 you in the stocks for your pains." 
 
 '' I will break his head before he's out of the 
 house," said one of the men, who seemed to pay 
 but little deference to his master's commands. 
 
 *^I will break thine, if thou triest it," an- 
 swered the lord's man, sturdily. *^ Come along, 
 old man, come along ; I will see thee safe out 
 of the place, and let any one of them lay a 
 finger on thee if he dare !" 
 
 Thus saying, he grasped Hardy's arm and led 
 him forth from the inn, muttering as he did so, 
 " By the shoulder-bone of St. Luke, the old 
 fellow^ has got limbs enough to defend himself ! 
 
FOXIEST DAYS. 29 
 
 • — It's as thick as a roll of brawn, and as hard 
 as a branch of oak ! How goes it with thee, 
 fellow?" 
 
 " Stiff— woundy stiff, sir," replied the hunch- 
 back ; " but I thank you, with all my heart, for 
 taking part with me ; and I would fain give you 
 a cup of good ale in return, such as you have 
 never tasted out of London. If you could but 
 contrive to come to my poor place to-morrow 
 morning," he added, dropping his voice to a 
 low tone, " I could shev/ some country sports, 
 w^hich, as you are a judge of such things, might 
 please you." 
 
 " It must be early hours, then," replied the 
 serving-man. " Those that don't come to-night 
 will not be here till noon to-morrow^, it is true : 
 but still I think I had better wait for them." 
 
 " Nay, nay — come," said Hardy ; " come 
 and take a cup of ale with me," and, after a 
 pause, he added, significantly, " besides, there's 
 something I want to tell you w^hich may profit 
 your lord." 
 
 " But how shall I find my w^ay ?" demanded 
 the serving-man, gazing inquiringly in his face. 
 
30 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 but with no expression of surprise at the inti- 
 mation he received. 
 
 " Oh, I will shew you," answered the pea- 
 sant. " Meet me at the church stile there, and I 
 will guide you. It is not far. Be there a little 
 before six, and you shall find me waiting. Give 
 me your hand on't." 
 
 The serving-man held out his hand, and 
 Hardy shook it in a grasp such as might be 
 given by a set of iron pincers, at the same time 
 advancing his head, and adding, in a low tone, 
 
 *' Take care what you do — you have a traitor 
 there ! One of those men is a nidge t, and the 
 other is a false hound, come down to spy upon 
 good men and true." 
 
 Thus saying, he relaxed his hold, and, turn- 
 ing away, was soon lost in the obscure twilight 
 of the evening. 
 
FOREST DAYS, 31 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The animal called the sluggard has greatly in- 
 creased in modern days. In former times the 
 specimens were few and far between. The rising 
 of the sun was generally the signal for knight 
 and yeoman to quit their beds, and if some of 
 the old or the soft cumbered their pillows for an 
 hour or so later, the sleeping time rarely if ever 
 extended beyond seven in the morning. 
 
 The sky was still grey when the stout yeoman, 
 whom we have mentioned under the title of the 
 lord's man, but whose real name was Thomas 
 Blawket, sprang lightly out of his bed, and 
 made that sort of rapid, but not unwholesome 
 toilet, which a hardy Englishman, in his rank of 
 life, was then accustomed to use. It consisted 
 
32 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 merely in one or two large buckets of clean 
 cold water poured over his round curly head and 
 naked shoulders, and then, with but some small 
 ceremony of drying, his clothes were cast on, 
 and bound round him with his belt. The whole 
 operation occupied, perhaps, ten minutes, and a 
 considerable portion of that space of time was 
 taken up in rubbing dry his thick, close, short-cut 
 beard, which curled up under the process into 
 little knots, like the coat of a French water dog. 
 '• Give thee good day, host, give thee good 
 day,' he said, as he issued forth. " I will be 
 back anon;" and, sauntering forward leisurely on 
 the green, he stood for a moment or two looking 
 round him, to prevent the appearance of taking 
 any preconcerted direction, and then walked 
 slowly towards the church, which stood behind 
 the row of trees we have mentioned. After 
 gazing up at the building, which was then in 
 its first newness, he made a circuit round it, 
 and passing the priest's house, he reached what 
 was called the Church Stile, where two broad 
 stones, put edgeways, with one flat one between 
 them for a step, excluded all animals without 
 
FOREST DAYS. 33 
 
 wings — except man, and his domestic compa- 
 nion, the dog — from what was then called the 
 Priest's Meadow. 
 
 On the other side of this stile, with his arms 
 leaning upon the top stone, was Hardy the 
 Hunchback, whistling a lively tune, and watch- 
 ing the lord's man as he came forward, without 
 moving from his position till the other was 
 close upon him. Their salutation was then 
 soon made, and crossing the stile, the good 
 yeoman walked on by the side of his com- 
 panion, sauntering easily along through the 
 green fields, and talking of all the little empti- 
 nesses which occupy free hearts in the early 
 morning. 
 
 The first hour of the da}^, the bright first 
 hour of a spring day I mean, appears always 
 to me as if care and thought had nought to 
 do with it. It seems made for those light and 
 whirling visions — not unmingled with thanks 
 and praise^ — which drive past the dreamy ima- 
 gination like motes in the sunshine, partaking 
 still, in a degree, of sleep, and having all its 
 soft indistinctness, without losing the brightness 
 c3 
 
34 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 of waking perception : thoughts, hopes, and 
 fancies, that gUtter as they go, succeeded each 
 minute by clearer and more brilliant things, till 
 the whole, at length, form themselves into the 
 sterner realities of noon-day life. 
 
 The two men wandered on in that dreamy 
 hour. They listened to the sweet birds singing 
 in the trees, and it was a time of year when the 
 whole world was tuneful ; they stopped by the 
 side of the babbling brook, and gazed into its 
 dancing waters; they watched the swift fish 
 darting along the stream, and hallooed to a 
 heron which had just caught one of the finny 
 tribe in its bill. 
 
 "Now had we a hawk," said the peasant, 
 "we would very soon have Master Greycoat 
 there, as surely as foul Richard de Ashby will 
 catch pretty Kate Greenly before he has done.'* 
 
 " Think you so ?" said the lord's man, cer- 
 tainly not speaking of catching the heron. 
 " Will she be so easily deceived, think you ?" 
 
 " Ay, will she," answered the peasant. " Not 
 that the girl wants sense or learning; cither, for 
 the good priest took mighty pains with her. 
 
fouest days. 35 
 
 and she can read and write as well as any clerk 
 in the land. Nor has she a bad heart either, 
 though it is somewhat fierce and quick withal — 
 like her mother's, who one day broke Tim 
 Clough's head with a tankard, when he was 
 somewhat boisterous to her, and then well nigh 
 died with grief when she found she had really 
 cracked his skull. But this girl is as vain as a 
 titmouse, and though I do believe she lovea 
 young Harland, the franklin's son, at the bottom, 
 yet I have often told him that it is as great a 
 chance she never marries him as that the river 
 will be frozen next winter ; and now I see this 
 fellow come down again and hanging about her 
 as he did before, I say her vanity will take her 
 by the ears, and lead her to any market he 
 chooses to carry her to." 
 
 "Alack and a-well-a-day !" said the lord's 
 man, " that a gentleman like that cannot let a 
 far off place such as this be in peace, with its 
 quiet sunshine and good country-folks. He 
 may find a light-o'-love easily enough in the 
 great cities, without coming down to break a 
 father's heart, and make a good youth miserable, 
 and turn a gay-hearted country girl into a sor- 
 
36 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 rowful harlot! I hope he may get his head 
 broke for his pains !" 
 
 " He is hke to get his neck broke for some- 
 thing else," rcphed the peasant, " if I judge 
 rightly. But we will talk more of that anon. 
 Let us get on." 
 
 Forward accordingly they walked, passed 
 another field, and another, and then took their 
 way down a narrow, sandy lane, which in the 
 end opened out from between its high banks 
 upon a long strip of ground covered with short 
 grass and old hawthorn trees, with many a bank 
 and dingle breaking the turf, and shewing the 
 yellow soil beneath. 
 
 ** Why, you seem to live on the edge of the 
 forest, ploughman," said the serving-man; "it 
 must be poor ground here, I wot ?" 
 
 " It's good for my sort of farming," replied 
 the other, shooting a shrewd glance at him, 
 along the side of his very peculiar nose ; " you 
 have a mile to go yet. Master Yeoman, and 
 we may as well go through a bit of the wood- 
 land." 
 
 " Have ^vith you, have with you !" replied the 
 yeoman. " I love the forest ground as well as 
 
FOREST DAYS. 37 
 
 any man, and often, when the season comes un, 
 I turn woodman for the occasion, and, with njy 
 lord's good leave, help his foresters to kill the 
 deer." 
 
 "Dangerous tastes in these da^-s. Master 
 Yeoman," said the peasant, and there the con- 
 versation dropped again, each falling back into 
 that train of thought which had been awakened 
 in their minds by the reference to Kate 
 Greenly, and her probable fate ; for, although 
 we are accustomed to consider those as ruder 
 times — and certainly, in the arts of life, man 
 was not so far advanced as in the present day — 
 yet the natural affections of the heart, the sound 
 judgment of right and wrong, and the high 
 emotions of the immortal spirit within us, do 
 not depend upon civilization, at least as the 
 term is generally applied, but exist independent 
 of a knowledge of sciences, or skill in any of 
 man's manifold devices for increasing his plea- 
 sures and his comforts. They are rather, indeed, 
 antagonist principles, in many respects, to very 
 great refinement ; and the advance of society 
 in the arts of luxury is but too often accom- 
 panied by the cultivation of that exclusive self- 
 
38 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 ishness which extinguishes all the finer emo- 
 tions, and leaves man but as one of the ma- 
 chines he makes. 
 
 The mind of the stout yeoman, following the 
 track on which it had begun to run, repre- 
 sented to himself what would be the feelings 
 of the rustic lover, to find himself abandoned 
 for a comparative stranger, and not only to 
 know that the girl he loved was lost to him for 
 ever, but degraded and debased — a harlot, 
 sported with for the time, to be cast away when 
 her freshness was gone. He had no difficulty 
 in sympathising from his honest heart with the 
 sensations which young Harland would expe- 
 rience — with the bitter disappointment — with 
 the anger mingled with tenderness towards her 
 who in her folly blighted her own and his hap- 
 piness for ever — with the pure and unmitigated 
 indignation against him who, in his heartless 
 vanity, came down to blast the peace of others 
 for the gratification of an hour. He thought of 
 the father, too ; but there, indeed, his sympathies 
 were not so much excited, for it needed but to 
 see good John Greenly once or twice to per- 
 ceive that there was no great refinement in his 
 
FOREST DAYS. 39 
 
 virtue — that self was his first object — and, after 
 meditating over that part of the subject for two 
 or three hundred yards, as they walked on 
 through the hawthorns, he said aloud, with a 
 half laugh, " I shouldn't wonder if he would 
 rather have her a lord's leman than a country- 
 man's wife !" 
 
 " Not at first," answered Hardy, understand- 
 ing at once what he meant ; " he wiU take it to 
 heart at first, but will soon get reconciled to it." 
 And again they fell into thought, w^alking on 
 over the smooth turf, upon which it was a plea- 
 sure to tread, it was so soft, so dry, and so 
 elastic. 
 
 As they proceeded, the hawthorns became 
 mingled with other trees; large beeches, with 
 their long waving limbs not yet fully covered 
 with their leaves, stood out upon the banks, here 
 and there an oak, too, was seen, with the young 
 leaves still brown and yellow ; while patches of 
 fern broke the surface of the grass, and large 
 cushions of moss covered the old roots that 
 forced their way to the surface of the ground. 
 
 The trees, however, were still scattered at 
 many yards' distance from each other, and cast 
 
40 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 long shadows upon the velvet green of the grass, 
 as the sun, not many degrees above the horizon, 
 poured its bright rays between them. But Avhcn 
 the yeoman looked through the bolls, to the 
 northward and westward, he could see a dim 
 mass of darker green spreading out beyond, and 
 showing how the forest thickened, not far off; 
 while, every now and then, some cart-way, or 
 woody path, gave him a long vista into the very 
 heart of the woodland, with lines of light, where 
 the beams of day broke through the arcade of 
 boughs, marking the^distances upon the road. 
 
 That they were getting into the domain of 
 the beasts of chase was soon very evident. More 
 than one hare started away before their foot- 
 steps, and limped off with no very hurried pace. 
 Every two or three yards, a squirrel was seen 
 running from tree to tree, and swarming up the 
 boll ; and, once or twice, at a greater distance, 
 the practised eye of the good yeoman caught the 
 form of a dun deer, bounding away up some of 
 the paths, to seek a shelter in the thicker wood. 
 
 The way did not seem long, however, and all 
 the thousand objects which a woodland scene 
 affords to please and interest the eye and ear, and 
 
FOREST DAYS. 41 
 
 carry home the moral of natm*e s beautiful works 
 to the heart of man, occupied the attention of 
 the stout Englishman, as they walked onward, 
 till the distance between the trees becoming less 
 and less, the branches formed a canopy through 
 which the rays of the morning sun only found 
 their way occasionally. 
 
 " Why, Master Ploughman," said the lord's 
 man, at length, " you seem plunging into the 
 thick of the wood. Does your dwelling lie in 
 this direction ?" 
 
 " In good sooth does it !" answered the plough- 
 man ; — " it v/ill be more open presently." 
 
 " Much need," rejoined the yeoman, " or I 
 shall take thee for a forester, and not one of 
 the King's either." 
 
 The peasant laughed, but made no reply, and 
 in a minute or two after, the yeoman continued, 
 saying — " Thou art a marvellous man, assuredly, 
 for thou art ten years younger this morning than 
 thou wert last night. Good faith, if I had fancied 
 thee as strong and active as thou art, and as 
 young withal, I think I should have left thee to 
 fight it out with those two fellows by thyself." 
 
 " Would that I had them for but half an 
 
42 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 hour, under the green hawthorn trees we have 
 just passed," said the peasant, laughing — " I 
 would need no second hand to give them such 
 a basting as they have rarely had in life — though 
 I doubt me they have not had a few." 
 
 " Doubtless, doubtless !" answered the yeo- 
 man — " But a word, my good friend, before we 
 go farther : as you are not what you seemed, it 
 is as well I should know where I am going ?" 
 
 ^* I am not what I seemed, and not what I 
 seem either, even now,'* said the peasant, with 
 a frank and cheerful smile, " but there is no 
 harm in that either. Master Yeoman. Here, 
 help me off with my burden ; I am not the first 
 man who has made himself look more than he 
 is. There, put your hand under my frock, and 
 untie the knot you will find, while I unfasten 
 this one in fi-ont." 
 
 So saying, he loosened a little cord and tassel 
 that was round his neck, and with the aid of his 
 companion, let slip from his shoulders a large 
 pad, containing seemingly various articles, some 
 hard, and some soft, but which altogether had 
 been so disposed as to give him the appearance 
 of a deformity that nature certainly had not 
 
FOREST DAYS. 43 
 
 inflicted upon him. As soon as it was gone, he 
 stood before the honest yeoman, a stout, hearty, 
 thick-set man, with high shoulders indeed, but 
 without the slightest approach to a hump upon 
 either of them ; and regarding, with a merry 
 glance, the astonishment of his companion — 
 for those were days of society's babyhood, when 
 men were easily deceived — he said, " So much 
 for the hunch. Master Yeoman. Had those good 
 gentlemen seen me now, they might not have 
 been quite so ready with their hands ; and had 
 they seen this," he added, showing the hilt of a 
 good stout dagger under his coat, " they might 
 not have been quite so ready with their swords. 
 And now let us come on without loss of time, 
 for there are those waiting who would fain 
 speak with you for a short time, and give you 
 a message for your lord." 
 
 The yeoman hesitated for an instant, but then 
 replied — " Well, it matters not ! I will not sus- 
 pect you, though this is an odd affair. I have 
 helped you once at a pinch — at least, I intended 
 it as help — and you will not do me wrong now, 
 I dare say." 
 
44 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " Doubt it not, doubt it not," said the 
 peasant — " you arc a friend, not an enemy. But 
 now to add a word or two to anything else you 
 may hear to day, let me warn you as we go, that 
 one of those two men you saw strugghng with 
 me last night is a traitor and a spy. Ay ! and, 
 though 1 must not say so much, I suppose, of 
 a lord's kinsman, I rather think that he who 
 brought him is little better than himself." 
 
 '^ Hard words, hard words. Master Plough- 
 man, or whatever you may be," said the lord's 
 man, with a serious air — " I trust it is not a 
 broken head, or an alehouse quarrel that makes 
 you find out treason in the man. Besides, if 
 he be a spy, he can only be a spy upon his 
 own master." 
 
 *^ And who is his own master ?" demanded 
 Hardy. " Come, put your wit to, and tell me 
 that." 
 
 " Why, Sir Richard de Ashby, to be sure," 
 replied the man. 
 
 '' Truly !" answered Hardy. " Methought 
 the cognizance of the house of Ashby was a 
 tree growing out of a brasier ?" 
 
FOREST DAYS. 45 
 
 *' And so it is," said the man, " and he has it 
 on his coat/' 
 
 " And what has he on his breast ?" demanded 
 Hardy. " Three pards, what they call passant !" 
 
 The man started. " Why that is the King's I" 
 he cried. 
 
 " Or the Prince Edward's," added Hardy. 
 " So now when you return, tell your lord to 
 look well to the Earl of Ashby's kinsman — if not 
 to the Earl himself. We had tidings of some- 
 thing of this kind, and I remained to see — for 
 you must not think me such a fool as to give a 
 serving man hard words for nothing, and bring 
 blows upon my head without an object." 
 
 " Did you see the leopards, then ?" demanded 
 Blawket. " Did you see them with your own 
 eyes?" 
 
 " I grappled with him v/hen he sprang upon 
 me," answered his companion, "and with my 
 two thumbs tore open his coat, while he thought 
 that we were merely rolling on the floor like a 
 terrier and a cat. Under his coat he had a gipon 
 of sendull fit for a king, with three pards broi- 
 dered in gold upon the breast. When T had 
 
46 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 seen that, I was satisfied; but that mad gh'l 
 Kate thought I was brawling in earnest, I sup- 
 pose, and dashed a pail of water over us, which 
 made us all pant and lose our hold, and as 
 for the rest, you know what happened after. 
 He is no servant of Richard de Ashby; the 
 poor knave keeps but one, and, on my life, I 
 believe, that having long ago sold his soul to the 
 devil for luxury and wastel bread, he has now 
 sold the only thing he had left to sell, his friends, 
 to some earthly devil, for gold to win away 
 pretty Kate Greenly." 
 
 The yeoman cast down his eyes on the 
 ground, and walked on for a step or two in 
 grave deliberation. 
 
 " Marry," he said, at length, " if this tale be 
 true, — that is to say, I do not doubt what you 
 say, good comrade, — but if I can prove it to 
 my lord's content, I shall be a made man in his 
 opinion for discovering such a trick, and get 
 the henchman's place, which I have long been 
 seeking. — I never loved that Richard de Ashby ; 
 though he is as soft and sweet as his cousin 
 Alured is rash and haughty." 
 
FOREST DAYS. 47 
 
 " It will be easily proved," replied his com- 
 panion. " Charge Sir Richard boldly, when 
 your good lord and his friends have met, with 
 bringing down a servant of the King, disguised 
 as his own, to be a spy upon their counsels." 
 
 " Nay, nay — not so," replied the serving- 
 man. " I am more experienced in dealing 
 with lords than thou art. That will cause my 
 master to take up the matter, and may make 
 mischief between the two earls. Nay, I will pick 
 a quarrel with him in the inn kitchen, will make 
 him take off his coat to bide a stroke or two with 
 me ; and then, when we all see the leopards, we 
 will drag him at once before his betters." 
 
 " First tell your lord the whole," said Hardy, 
 somewhat sternly. " It may behove him to 
 know immediately who he is dealing with." 
 
 " I will — I will !" replied the man ; " and I 
 will let him know my plan for proving the 
 treachery. But what have we here? — Your 
 cottage, I suppose ? — Why, you have a goodly 
 sight of sons, if these be all your children. 
 Shooting at the butts, too, as I live ! Ay, I see 
 now how it is !" 
 
48 FOREST DAYS, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 As merry a peal as ever was rung, though not 
 perhaps as scientific a one, ushered in the month 
 of May, and as bright a sun as ever shone rose 
 up in the eastern sky, and cast long Hues of 
 light over the green fields, glistening with the 
 tears of departed night. The spring har^ oeen 
 one of those fair seasons which have b ^ rarely 
 visited us in latter years, when, according to the 
 old rhyme, 
 
 " March winds and April showers 
 Had brought about May flowers." 
 
 Almost every leaf was upon the trees, except, 
 indeed, in the case of some of those sturdy old 
 oaks, which, in their brown hardihood, seemed 
 unwilling to put on the livery of spring. The 
 
FOREST DAYS. 49 
 
 snowdrop had had her season and was gone, 
 but the violet still lingered, shedding her per- 
 fume in the shade, and the hawthorn flaunted 
 her fragrant blossoms to the wooing air. It was, 
 in short, the merry, merry month of May, and 
 her ensigns were out in every hedge and every 
 field, calling young hearts to gaiety and enjoy- 
 ment, and promising a bright summer in her 
 train. 
 
 Many a maiden had been out, before the sun 
 rose, from behind the distant slopes, to gather 
 May dew to refresh her beauty, and many a 
 youth, seeking the blossom of the white-thorn, 
 had met, by preconcerted accident, the girl he 
 loved under the lover's tree, and kissed her as 
 warmly as under the mistletoe. Young Har- 
 land, however, had looked for Kate Greenly 
 at the place where he had found her on the 
 same day in the former year, but had looked 
 in vain ; and, as he returned homeward, some- 
 what disappointed, had found her with a party 
 of gay girls, sometimes laughing with their 
 laughter, sometimes falling into deep and 
 gloomy thought. 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Her young companions broke away to leave 
 her alone with her acknowledged lover; and 
 Kate walked quickly home by his side, with a 
 varying and a changeful air, which we must no- 
 tice for a moment, though we cannot pause to tell 
 all that passed between them. Sometimes she was 
 gay and saucy, as her wont ; sometimes she was 
 thoughtful and even sad ; sometimes she affected 
 scorn for her lover's gentle reproaches; sometimes 
 she raised her eyes, and gazed on him with a look 
 of tenderness and regret that made him sorry he 
 had uttered them. Her demeanour was as 
 varying as an April day ; but that it had often 
 been before, and he saw not a deeper shadow 
 that spread with an ominous cloud-like heavi- 
 ness over all. They parted at the door of her 
 father's house, and young Ralph Harland turned 
 him home again, thinking of the pleasure of the 
 merry dance and all the sports that were to 
 come, and how a little gift, which he had pre- 
 pared for her he loved, would quiet all idle 
 quarrels between him and fair Kate Greenly. 
 
 The village green, the sweet little village 
 green which we have described, was early decked 
 out with all that could be required for the sports 
 
FOREST DAYS. 51 
 
 of the day. The tall May-pole in the centre, 
 surmounted with a coronet of flowers, streaming 
 with ribbons and green leaves, and every sort 
 of country ornament, was prepared for the 
 dance around it, which was soon to take place. 
 Every tree was hung with garlands, and even 
 the old well was decorated with wreaths and 
 branches of the hawthorn and the oak. The 
 inn itself was a complete mass of flowers ; and, 
 before the door, at a very early hour, were 
 arranged the various prizes which were to re- 
 ward the successful competitors in the rustic 
 sports of the day. There was a runlet of 
 wine stood beside the little bench beneath the 
 eaves, and in a pen, formed by four hurdles, was 
 a milk-white ram, with his horns gilded, and a 
 chaplet twisted round his curly pate ; and fur- 
 ther off", leaning against the wall, stood a long 
 yew bow, with a baldric, and sheaf of arrows, 
 winged with peacock's feathers, bearing silver 
 ornaments upon the quiver. 
 
 These prizes were the first object of curiosity, 
 and at an early hour many a group of boys and 
 girls, and youths and maidens, gathered rcund 
 d2 
 
 y„ ,.J ILL Ua 
 
52 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 the pen where the fat, long-fleeced ram was con- 
 fined, and pulled him by the gilded horns, while 
 others looked at the bow, and every now and 
 then stretched out a hand to touch and ex- 
 amine it more closely, but were deterred by 
 a loud shrill voice from one of the windows of 
 the inn, shouting, " Beware the thong !" 
 
 No season of merriment occurred at that time 
 in England without bringing together its crowd 
 of minstrels and music i an; and even then so 
 populous had the gentle craft become, and so 
 dissolute withal, that laws and regulations were 
 found necessary for the purpose of diminishing 
 the numbers of its followers and regulating their 
 manners. 
 
 " Free drink for the minstrels" was a general 
 proverb assented to by all, and the consequence 
 was, that having the opportunity, they seldom 
 wanted the inclination to pour their libations too 
 freely, a good deal to the inconvenience, very 
 frequently, of their entertainers. The class, how- 
 ever, which came to a May-day merry-making in 
 a common country village was, of course, not of 
 the highest grade, either in musical skill or pro- 
 fessional rank ; and the first who appeared on the 
 
FOREST DAYS. 53 
 
 village-green was a piper, with his bag under his 
 arm, producing, as he came, those extraordinary 
 sounds which are found to have a very pleasant 
 effect upon some portions of the human species, 
 but are almost universally distasteful to the ca- 
 nine race. Upon this occasion almost all the 
 dogs in the village followed him, either barking 
 or howling. The good piper, however, did not 
 seem to consider it as at all a bad compliment, 
 but sitting himself down upon the bench before 
 the inn door, played away to his square-headed 
 auditory, till some human bipeds, and amongst 
 the rest Jack Greenly himself, came forth with a 
 jug of humming ale, and set it down beside him. 
 
 The piper drank, as pipers will drink, a long 
 and hearty draught, then looked around him, and 
 as a matter of course, commended liberally to the 
 ears of his entertainer the preparations which 
 had been made for the May- day games. 
 
 A floyter, or player on the flute, was not long 
 behind, and he himself was succeeded by a man 
 with a rote ; but the great musician of all, the 
 performer on the viol, without whom the dance 
 would not have been perfect, like all other im- 
 portant personages, caused himself to be waited 
 
54 FOREST DAYS, 
 
 for ; and at length, when he did appear, came 
 accompanied by his retinue, consisting of two 
 long-eared curs, and a boy, carrying his viol, 
 carefully wrapped up in the recesses of a fustian 
 bag. With great airs of dignity, too, he took 
 his Avay at once into the house, and both pru- 
 dently and humanely tuned his instrument in a 
 room where few if any ears were nigh to hear. 
 
 Fain would I, dear reader, could such a thing 
 be permitted, indulge in a long description of 
 the May-day games of old England. Fain 
 would I ^tell you who in the wrestling match 
 won the milk-white ram, or shot the best arrow, 
 or hurled the best quoit; but there are more 
 serious things before us, and to them we must 
 hurry on, leaving to imagination to undertake 
 the task of depicting not only these, but the 
 still greater struggle w^iich took place amongst 
 many a hardy yeoman for a fine horse of York- 
 shire breed, given by Ralph Harland himself in 
 honour of her he loved. 
 
 Suffice it then, for the present, that the sports 
 of the morning were over, that the noon-day 
 meal, too, was at an end, that the girls of the 
 village had rearranged their dress for the lighter 
 
FOREST DAYS. 55 
 
 amusement of the evening, and were gathering 
 gaily under the group of trees to begin their 
 first dance around the Maypole. Ralph Harland 
 stood by Kate's side, and was asking anxiously 
 Avhat made her so sad, when suddenly he raised 
 his eyes, and his countenance became even 
 more overcast than hers. 
 
 The sound which had made him look up 
 had certainly nothing unusual in it on that 
 busy morning. It was but the tramp of three 
 or four horses coming at a rapid pace, but the 
 young man's heart was anxious ; and when his 
 eyes rested on the face of Richard de Ashby, 
 who rode in, followed by three men, and dressed 
 with unusual splendour, well might the young 
 franklin's bosom be troubled with feelings bitter 
 and indignant, especially as he saw her whom 
 he loved turn red and white, and read in the 
 changing colour the confirmation of many a 
 dark suspicion. 
 
 The personage who had produced these sen- 
 sations seemed at first to take no notice of the gay 
 groups around him, but advancing at once to 
 the low inn door, which was nearly blocked up 
 by the jovial person of John Greenly himself, 
 
56 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 he sprang to the ground lightly and gracefully, 
 asking, in such a tone that all around could hear 
 what he said, whether the Earl of Ashby had 
 yet arrived. 
 
 On finding that such was not the case, he 
 turned round with an indifferent air, saying, 
 " Good faith, then I must amuse myself as best 
 I may, till my fair cousin comes. What have 
 you going forward here — a May-day dance ? 
 Good sooth, I will make one. Pretty Kate," 
 he continued, advancing to the spot where she 
 stood, " will you give me your hand to lead you 
 a measure round the Maypole ?" 
 
 " It is 'promised to me," said Ralph Harland, 
 in a stern tone, before Kate could reply, bend- 
 ing his brows angrily upon his rival. 
 
 " Is it, indeed !" cried Richard dc Ashby, 
 gazing at him from head to foot with that cool 
 look of supercilious contempt which is so hard 
 to bear, and yet so difficult to quarrel with. — 
 " Well, but she has two hands ; she shall give 
 you one and me the other, and this pretty little 
 damsel," he continued, to a girl of some twelve 
 or thirteen years of ag6, who stood by listening, 
 " this pretty little damsel shall take my other 
 
FOKEST DAYS. 57 
 
 hand — so that is all settled. Come, Master 
 Violcr, let us hear the notes of the catgut ! 
 Come, sweet Kate, I long to see those lovely 
 limbs playing in the graceful dance." 
 
 Poor Ralph Harland ! it was one of those 
 moments when it is equally difficult to act 
 and not to act, especially for one inexperienced, 
 young, and brought up in habitual deference for 
 superior rank and station. A direct insult, an 
 open injury, he would have avenged at once upon 
 the highest head that wagged in all the realm ; 
 but the covert scorn of the manner, the hidden 
 baseness of the design, he knew not how to 
 meet; and following, rather than accompany- 
 ing, his light-o'-love sweetheart to the dance, he 
 joined in a pastime to which liis heart was but 
 ill attuned. 
 
 It is under such circumstances that those who 
 are wronged have always the disadvantage. 
 Ralph was fierce, silent, gloomy; while Richard 
 do Ashby was all grace, self-possession, smiles, 
 and cheerfulness. His speech and his glances 
 were for Kate Greenly alone. His looks and 
 his voice were full of triumph, his eyes full of 
 d3 
 
58 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 meaning ; and many a time and oft, as they 
 danced gaily round, he whispered to her soft 
 things, of which no one heard the whole, although 
 there was a keen and eager ear close by, listening 
 for every sound to fix a quarrel on the speaker. 
 
 At length the notes of the viol stopped, and 
 the dance came to an end, just as Richard de 
 Ashby was adding a word or two more to some- 
 thing he had been saying in a low tone to the 
 fair coquette beside him, while her colour 
 changed more than once, and her eyelids were 
 cast down. The sudden silence re: dered the 
 last half of the sentence audible. It was — 
 " Then lose not a moment." 
 
 Ralph Harland cast her hand from him in- 
 dignantly, and fi*onting Richard de Ashby, ex- 
 claimed—" To do what ?" 
 
 " What is that to thee, peasant ?" demanded 
 Richard de Ashby, colouring as much with 
 anger at his words having been overheard, as 
 with pride. 
 
 " Everything that she does is matter to me," 
 replied Ralph, fiercely, " if I am to be her hus- 
 band ; and if I am not, woe be to the man that 
 makes her break her promise." 
 
FOREST DAYS. 59 
 
 "You are insolent, peasant," replied the 
 Earl's kinsman, with a look of scorn ; " take 
 care, or you will make me angry." 
 
 *^It shall be done without care," replied 
 Ralph Harland, feeling no more hesitation, 
 now that he was fully embarked ; " let go my 
 arm, Kate, and I will soon show you and others 
 of what egg-shells a lord's cousin can be made. 
 — What brings you here to spoil our merriment, 
 and mar our May-day games ? Take that as a 
 remembrance of Ralph Harland!" and he struck 
 him a blow, which, although Richard de Ashby 
 partially warded it off, made him stagger and 
 reel back. But at that very moment, the three 
 servants he had brought with him, who had 
 hitherto stood at a distance, seeing their master 
 engaged in a squabble with one of the dancers, 
 ran up, and one of them, catching him by the 
 arm, prevented him from falling. 
 
 His sword was now out of the sheath in an 
 instant ; the weapons of his attendants were not 
 behind, and all four rushed upon the young 
 franklin, exclaiming, " Cut off his ears ! The 
 villain has dared to strike a nobleman ! Cut 
 off his ears !" 
 
60 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 All the villagers scattered back from the ob- 
 ject of their fury, except two — Kate Greenly, 
 who cast herself upon her knees before Richard 
 de Ashby, begging him to spare her lover, and 
 Ralph's old grey-headed father, who, running 
 up from the inn door, placed a stout staff in 
 his son's hand, exclaiming, " Well done, Ralph, 
 my boy ! Thrash 'em all ! Ho ! Greenly, give 
 me another stick that I may help him !" 
 
 One of the serving-men, however, struck the 
 old franklin with the pummel of his sword, and 
 knocked him down, while the two others pressed 
 forward upon Ralph, and the foremost caught 
 his left arm, just as Richard dc Ashby, putting 
 Kate aside, came within arm's-length of him in 
 front, reiterating with fierce vehemence, " Cut 
 off his ears !" 
 
 It is probable that the order would have 
 been executed unmercifully, had not a sudden 
 ally appeared upon Ralph Ilarland's side. 
 
 Leaping from the window of the inn, a man 
 clothed in a close-fitting coat, and hose of Lin- 
 coln green, with a sword by his side, a narrow 
 buckler on his shoulder, a sheaf of arrows under 
 his left arm, and a leathern bracer just below 
 
FOREST DAYS. 61 
 
 the bend of the elbow, sprang forward, with a 
 pole some six feet long in his hand, and at 
 three bounds cleared the space between the inn 
 and the disputants. The third leap, which 
 brought him up with them, was scarcely taken, 
 when one blow of his staff struck the man who 
 held Ralph by the left arm to the ground, and 
 a second sent the sword of Richard de Ashby 
 flying far over his head. 
 
 At the same moment he exclaimed, looking at 
 the servant whom he had knocked down, " Ha I 
 ha! my old acquaintance ; when last we had a fall 
 in yonder inn together, I thought we should 
 meet again ! Fair play ! fair play ! — Not four 
 against one ! Get you in, Kate Light-o'-love ! 
 out of harm's way ! The day may not end so 
 well as it has begun. Fair play, I say, or we 
 may take odds too !" 
 
 Richard de Ashby looked round, furiously, 
 after his sword, and laid his hand upon the 
 dagger that hung at his right side ; but the 
 sight he saw, as he turned his eyes towards the 
 inn, was one well calculated to moderate, at 
 least, the expression of his rage, for some eight 
 or nine men, all habited alike in close coats of 
 
62 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Lincoln green, were coming up at a quick pace 
 from behind the house, and their apparel, and 
 appearance altogether, could leave little doubt 
 that they were companions of him who had 
 first arrived, and in whom he recognised, with 
 no slight surprise, the same blue-nosed old pea- 
 sant whom he had found contending with his 
 servants not many nights before. The hump, 
 indeed, was gone, and the neck was straight 
 enough. All signs of decrepitude, too, had 
 passed away ; but the face was not to be mis- 
 taken, and Richard de Ashby's countenance 
 fell at the sight. 
 
 He was no coward, however; for, amongst 
 the swarm of vices, and follies, and faults, which 
 degraded so many of the Norman nobility of 
 that day, cowardice was rarely, if ever, to be 
 met with. They were a people of the sword, 
 and never unwilling to use it. 
 
 His first thought, then, was to resist to the 
 death, if need might be ; his next, how to resist 
 to the best advantage. Snatching his sword, 
 then, which one of his servants had picked up, 
 he looked to the clump of trees, but Harland, 
 and the man in green, with a whole host of vil- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 63 
 
 lagers, whose angry faces betokened him no 
 good, were immediately in the way, so that his 
 only recourse seemed to be to retreat to the inn 
 door. 
 
 The first step he took in that direction, how- 
 ever, produced a rapid movement on the part of 
 the yeomen, or foresters, or whatever the green- 
 coated gentlemen might be, which cut him off 
 from that place of refuge, and, at the same 
 moment, the voice of Hardy exclaimed, " Stop 
 him from the church path. Much ! This rat- 
 trap of ours has too many holes in it, but that 
 will close them all. — Now, Master Richard de 
 Ashby, hsten to a word or two. You come 
 here with no good purposes to any one, and we 
 want no more of you. But you shall have your 
 choice of three things ; — You shall either get io 
 your horse's back, and go away, swearing, as 
 you believe in the blessed Virgin, never to set 
 foot in this place again, — I don't think you 
 dare break that oath, — or " 
 
 " I will not !" replied Richard de Ashby, 
 fiercely. 
 
 " Very well, then," said Hardy ; " if that is 
 the case, you shall stand out in the midst, cast 
 
^mt 
 
 64 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 away sword and dagger, betake you to a quarter- 
 staff, and see whether, with the same arms, 
 young Ralph Harland here will not thrash you 
 like a sheaf of wheat." 
 
 " Fight a peasant with a quarter-staff!'' cried 
 Richard dc Ashby. " I will not !" 
 
 " Well, then, the third may be less pleasant, ' 
 said Hardy. " I have nothing else to offer, but 
 that we all fall upon you and yours, and beat 
 you till you remember Hendley-green as long 
 as you call yourself a man." 
 
 " Murder us, if you will," said Richard de 
 Ashby, doggedly ; " but we will sell our lives 
 dearly." 
 
 " I don't know that, worshipful sir," said the 
 man with the purple nose ; " we have no in- 
 clination to thrash more men than necessary, so 
 all your servitors may take themselves off, if they 
 like. Run, my men, run, if it so please you. But 
 make haste, for my quarter-staff is itching to be 
 about your master's ears !" And so saying, he 
 made it whirl round in his hand like the sails of 
 a mill. 
 
 One of the men needed no time to deliberate, 
 but betook himself to his heels as fast as he 
 
FOREST DAYS. 65 
 
 could go. A second hesitated for a moment or 
 two, and then saying, " It is no use contending 
 with such odds," moved slowly away. The 
 third, however — Hardy's old adversary in the 
 hostelry — placed himself by Richard de Ashby's 
 side, saying, "I will stand by you, sir!" and 
 added a word or two in a lower tone. 
 
 " Now, Much— and you, Tim-of-the-Mill," 
 cried Hardy, " let us rush on them all at once, 
 beat down their swords with your bucklers, and 
 tie them tight. Then we will set the bagpipe 
 before them, and flog them half way to Ponte- 
 fract. Quick ! quick ! I see the priest coming, 
 and he will be for peace-making." 
 
 The first step was hardly taken in advance, 
 however, when the blast of a trumpet sounded 
 upon the high road, and a dozen different cries 
 from the villagers of— 
 
 "Hold off! hold off!" 
 
 " Forbear ! Here comes the Sheriff !" 
 
 " Run for it. Master Hardy — they are the 
 lords Greenly talked of I" 
 
 " Away — away, good yeomen !" all uttered 
 at once, gave notice to the gentlemen in green 
 that some formidable enemy was in the rear. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 
 
 In a moment after, two or three gentlemen 
 of distinguished port, riding slowly at the head 
 of some fifty horsemen, came down the road 
 upon the green ; and Hardy, as he was called, 
 seeing that the day was no longer his own, was 
 passing across to join his companions on the 
 other side, when Richard de Ashby cast himself 
 in his way, and aimed a blow at him wdth his 
 sword. The stout yeoman parried it easily with 
 his staff, and struck his opponent on the chest 
 with the sharp end of the pole, thus clearing a 
 path by which he soon placed himself at the 
 head of the foresters. 
 
 " Come with us, Harland," he cried, " you 
 will be safer away." 
 
 Richard de Ashby, however, shouting aloud, 
 and waving his hand to the party of gentlemen 
 who were advancing, soon brought some of 
 them to his side. " Stop them ! stop them !" he 
 cried, pointing to the men in green. " I have 
 been grossly ill used, and well-nigh murdered ! — 
 Let your men go round, my lord, and cut them 
 off." 
 
 A word, a sign, from an elderly man at the 
 head of the party, instantly set some twenty of 
 
FOREST DAYS. 67 
 
 the horsemen into a gallop, to cut off the fo- 
 resters from the road to the church. They, on 
 their part, took the matter very calmly, however, 
 unslinging their bows, bending them, and laying 
 an arrow on the string of each, with a degree 
 of delil^eration which shewed that they were not 
 unaccustomed to such encounters. 
 
 The villagers however, scattered Hke a flock of 
 sheep at these intimations of an approaching fray; 
 the girls and the women, screaming, and running, 
 and tumbling down, took refuge in the neighbour- 
 ing houses, or ran away up the road. The greater 
 part of the men decamped more slowly, looking 
 back from time to time to see what was going 
 on ; while some six or seven stout peasants and 
 yeomen stood gathered together under one of 
 the trees, armed, in some instances, with swords 
 and bows, and one or two displaying a quarter- 
 staff, but all seeming very well disposed to take 
 part in the fray, on one side or the other. 
 
 Things were in this state, and that hesi- 
 tating pause had intervened wliich usually 
 precedes the first blow in a strife of any kind, 
 when the priest, who had been seen before to 
 quit his house, now hurried forward to the 
 
68 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 group of gentlemen who, without dismounting 
 from their horses, had gathered round Richard 
 de Ashby. His errand was, of course, to preach 
 peace and forbearance ; and akhough his face 
 was round and rosy, his body stout, and indi- 
 cating strongly a life of ease and a fondness for 
 good things, it is but justice to say, that he not 
 only urged the necessity of quiet and tranquil- 
 lity with eagerness and authority, but he rated 
 Richard de Ashby boldly for his conduct in the 
 village, and showed that he knew a great deal 
 more of his proceedings than was at all pleasant 
 to that personage. 
 
 " Sir, you are one of those," he said, " who 
 are ever ready to play the fool with a poor vil- 
 lage coquette, who, if in riding through a place 
 they see a poor girl proud of a neat ankle or a 
 jimp waist, are ever ready to take advantage of 
 her vanity to work her ruin ; and if such men 
 put themselves in danger, and get a broken 
 head, they must take the consequences, without 
 running on to bloodshed and murder.'' 
 
 The priest was still speaking; the yeomen 
 were slowly retreating towards the church, with- 
 out at all heeding the horsemen in their way ; 
 
FOREST DAY^. *> 
 
 two or three elderly noblemen were listening 
 attentively to the words of the good clergyman ; 
 and two young ones, a step behind, were hold- 
 ing themselves somewhat apart from each other, 
 with no great appearance of friendship between 
 them, when the one on the left hand of the 
 group suddenly put the magnificent horse on 
 which he was mounted into a quick canter, 
 and rode straight towards the foresters. 
 
 At first, supposing his purpose to be hostile, 
 they wheeled upon him, raising their bows at 
 once, and each man drew his arrow to his ear ; 
 but seeing that he was not folloAved, they as- 
 sumed a more pacific aspect ; and, w4iile one of 
 the old lords whom he had left behind, called 
 to him loudly, by the name of Hugh, to come 
 back, he not only rode on, but, to the surprise 
 of all, sprang from his horse and grasped young 
 Harland warmly by the hand. 
 
 This proceeding for the time drew all eyes 
 in that direction, and the end of the priest's 
 speech was but little attended to; but, at his 
 request, one of the gentlemen sent off a servant 
 to the horsemen near the church, telling them 
 not to act without orders. 
 
70 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 In the meantime a brief conversation between 
 the young nobleman and the frankHn took 
 place, after which, remounting his horse, the 
 former came back to the group, and said, " May 
 I venture a few words, my lords ?"^ 
 
 " Of course. Lord Hugh will take part against 
 me," exclaimed Richard de Ashby, *' or old Earl 
 Hubert's blood will not be in his veins !" 
 
 " Not so," replied the young gentleman ; " all 
 old feuds between our families have — thanks to 
 God and the wisdom of those two noble Earls — 
 been done away. No one more rejoices in the 
 friendship which now exists between our houses 
 than I do — none will more strenuously strive to 
 preserve it. I came merely to tell that which I 
 know and that which I have just heard. The 
 young man I have been speaking with is as 
 honest and true as any knight or noble in the 
 world. He once rendered me a good service, 
 and no one shall harm him ; for that at least I 
 pawn my name and knighthood. He tells me, 
 however, that this worthy gentleman here, having 
 taken a fancy to his promised bride, thinks fit to 
 intrude on their May-day sports, and, stretching 
 somewhat the privileges of a gentleman, makes 
 
FOREST DAYS. 71 
 
 love to the girl before his face. His endurance, 
 it seems, docs not reach that length, and he 
 struck our fi'iend Sir Richard, who fell upon him 
 again, sword in hand, with his three servants, 
 when these good foresters of Barnesdale inter- 
 fered to see fair play." 
 
 " The whole is true, I doubt not," cried the 
 priest, " for " 
 
 " Look ! look !" cried Richard de Ashby, 
 fiercely ; " while you listen to such gossip, they 
 are making their escape ! They are going into 
 the priest's house, as I live !" 
 
 As he spoke, a loud voice from the other 
 side of the green shouted, in a laughing tone, 
 " For Richard de Ashby's bonnet !" 
 
 All ejes were instantly turned in that direc- 
 tion, where, at the door of the priest's house, 
 two or three of the foresters were still to be 
 seen, the rest of them having gone in one by 
 one. In front of the group stood the man they 
 called Hardy, and he repeated again, with a loud 
 shout, " For Richard de Ashby's bonnet !" 
 
 As soon as he saw that he had attracted at- 
 tention, he suddenly raised the bow he held in 
 
72 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 his hand, drew it to the full extent of his arm, 
 and an arrow whistled through the air. Richard 
 de Ashby had started slightly on on side as 
 soon as he saw the archer take his aim but the 
 forester altered the direction of his an , with a 
 laugh, even as he loosed the shaft Lorn the 
 string, and the missile, with unerring truth, 
 passed through the hood that it was intended 
 for, and would have fallen beyond had it not 
 been stopped by a jewel in the front. As it was, 
 the arrow remained hanging amongst his black 
 hair, and when he drew it forth, with a white 
 cheek, and a somewhat trembUng hand, he read 
 imprinted in black letters, on the w^ood just 
 below the feather, " Scathelock. Remember !" 
 
 The nobles handed the arrow one to another, 
 read the name, and me word that followed it, 
 and then gazed in each other's faces with a 
 meaning look. 
 
 " Call back the horsemen," said one of the 
 elder gentlemen. " These men are gone ; and 
 it is as well as it is." 
 
FOREST DAYS. 73 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Such events as we have described in the last 
 chapter were by no means uncommon in the 
 fairs and merry-makings of England at the 
 period of history in which our tale is laid. The 
 sunshiny gaiety of the morning, in the April 
 day of states and societies, is too often changed 
 into sorrow and clouds ere night. 
 
 The sports were not resumed upon the village 
 green ; and all the amusements and occupations 
 with which a May-day generally closed — the 
 fresh dances by the moonlight, on the delights 
 of which old Fitz Stephen so fondly dwells, the 
 parting of the garlands, the gifts of flowers, the 
 light song, and the gay tale amongst the young, 
 with the merry jest, the wassail cup, and the 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 game of chance amongst the elder, were all 
 forgotten. The villagers and country people 
 dispersed each to their several homes, and the 
 inn, with such conveniences as it could afford, 
 was given up to the nobles and their train. Ar- 
 rangements were made for accommodating all 
 the men of high degree with chambers, if not 
 suitable to their rank, at least possessing some 
 degree of comfort. Truckle beds were found for 
 pages and squires, and straw was laid down for 
 the yeomen, who were accustomed to lie across 
 the doors of their masters' rooms. Much bustle 
 and confusion was of course created by all these 
 proceedings ; horses had to be taken care of as 
 well as men ; and the voice of the good host 
 was heard frequently shouting aloud for his 
 daughter Kate, or grumbling low at her giddy 
 idleness in being absent at such a moment as 
 that. 
 
 ** Ay, Master Greenly, Master Greenly !" 
 said the tapster — " it is May-day evening, re- 
 member. Pretty Kate has twenty lads courting 
 her by this time, if you could but see. I 
 should not wonder if she and young Harland 
 
FOREST DAYS. 75 
 
 were kissing and making-up behind the church, 
 at this moment." 
 
 " Not they," replied the host ; " it will take 
 iier a fortnight to get over that matter. Kate's a 
 silly girl, she could'nt do better for herself than 
 young Harland. Why his father, old Ralph, 
 is as rich as an abbey, and as hospitable as n 
 county knight ; his table is never without a pie 
 or a pasty from ten in the morning till vospe^r- , 
 and there's ale for whoever chooses to drnw i^. 
 I would sooner be a franklin in these days thon 
 a baron by half. Run out, Bessy, and see if you 
 can find Kate anywhere." 
 
 In the meanwhile, after some conversation 
 on the green at the door of the inn, the lords 
 had taken possession of the little room of com- 
 mon reception, while their chambers were pre- 
 pared for sleeping ; and a cook, who had been 
 brought with the party, established himself in 
 the kitchen, and, aided by his own particular 
 assistant, or knave, as he called him, together 
 with two women belonging to the household of 
 John Greenly, was preparing a supper for his 
 masters fi:om all that he could lay hands on in 
 e2 
 
76 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 the place, n addition to a large body of capons, 
 young du': cs, and pigeons, which, as well as 
 spices and other rich condiments, had been 
 brought thither on two sumpter horses. The 
 scanty number of personages assembled in the 
 little hall, indeed, did not justify the great pro- 
 fusion of good things which the cook was so 
 busily concocting, but he very prudently con- 
 sidered that he himself was to be fed as well as 
 the host, to whom, in case of civility and obe- 
 dience, he made a point of extending his boun- 
 ties, and that all the chief servants of the dif- 
 ferent gentlemen present, with his special fa- 
 vourites and friends in the retinue of his own 
 master, would also expect to be regaled, at least 
 as well as their several lords. 
 
 To that master and his companions, however 
 — amounting, in the whole, to the number of 
 ten personages — we must now turn ; but it is 
 only of four, out of the whole party, that we 
 shall give any particular description, having 
 already said enough of Richard de Ashby, and 
 the five others being gentlemen, whose history, 
 though mixed up in some degree with the fate 
 of those we are mQSt interested in, did not 
 
FOREST DAYS. 77 
 
 affect it so immediately as to require us to pre- 
 sent a minute portrait of each to the eye of the 
 reader. 
 
 The Earl of Ashby himself was a man consi- 
 derably past the prime of life, and of what was then 
 called a choleric temperament, which does not 
 alone mean that he was hot in temper and dis- 
 position, but that he was constitutionally so. 
 Age, indeed, had in some degree tamed his 
 fiery blood ; and a good deal of indulgence in 
 the pleasures of the table, with no great distaste 
 for good old wine of any country, had tended to 
 enfeeble him more than even time had done. 
 
 He had still a great opinion of his own import- 
 ance, however, and looked upon his skill in arms, 
 wisdom in council, and judgment in matters of 
 taste, as by no means inferior to the first in the 
 land ; and, to say the truth, when once upon his 
 horse's back, and armed at all points, he would 
 bide a blow, or lead a charge, with any man, 
 although his knees bent somewhat under him 
 when on foot, and he was glad enough to be 
 freed from the weight of his armour as soon as 
 possible. His judgment, too, was a sound one 
 when not biassed by passion, though there was 
 
78 FOREST DA-SS. 
 
 a certain degree of wavering unsteadiness in his 
 character, proceeding more from temper than 
 firom weakness of mind, which rendered him 
 an insecure ally in trying circumstances. He 
 piqued himself much upon being just, too, but 
 like many other people who do so, his justice 
 had almost always a tinge of prejudice in it, 
 and was in fact but a perception of specious 
 arguments in favour of the side that he es- 
 poused. 
 
 His son, Alured de Ashby, resembled his la- 
 ther in many points ; but many of his mother's 
 qualities entered into his character likewise. 
 The old Earl had married a foreigner, a sister 
 of the King of Minorca — kingdoms being, in 
 those days, very often but small things. Her 
 dovnry had been in proportion to her brother's 
 territory; but to her husband she brought an 
 accession of dignity, and increased his pride by 
 her own. That pride was, perhaps, her only 
 bad quality, for a strong and pertinacious deter- 
 mination of character, which she also possessed, 
 was, of course, good or bad according to the 
 direction in which it was guided. She, herself, 
 being of a fine mind, and a high-spirited though 
 
FOREST DAYS. 79 
 
 tender heart, had employed the resokite firmness 
 of which we speak to struggle against the misfor- 
 tunes that beset her father and her brother during 
 her early years, and to give them support and 
 strength in resisting a torrent which seemed 
 destined to sweep them away. 
 
 Her son, however, nurtured in prosperity, 
 and pampered by praises and indulgence, pos- 
 sessed her pride in its full force, without the 
 mitigating influence of her kindness and ten- 
 derness of heart ; and, neither having so good 
 a judgment, nor such high motives, as her- 
 self, what was firmness in her became obstinacy 
 in him — an obstinacy of a harsh and unpleasant 
 kind. He was by no means without talents, 
 indeed, — was as stout a man-at-arms as ever 
 sat in the saddle, had a natural taste and genius 
 for war, and had distinguished himself in many 
 of the expeditions, or chevaucheeSi of the time. 
 He was a high and honourable man, too, kept 
 his word strictly, wronged no one but through 
 pride, and was generous and liberal of his purse. 
 Thus he was esteemed and respected more than 
 liked, and was more popular with his inferiors 
 than with his equals. 
 
80 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 One knightly quality, it is true, he wanted. 
 He cared little for love, there being only one 
 person in the world, after his mother's death, for 
 whom he ever felt anything like real tenderness. 
 That person was his sister. She was nine years 
 younger than himself; he had held her on his 
 knee when she was an infant ; she had been a 
 plaything to him in her childhood, and an object 
 of interest during her whole life. Perhaps the 
 reason that he so loved her was, that she was the 
 very reverse of himself in all respects : gentle, 
 yet gay, and lively almost to wildness ; tender- 
 hearted, clinging, and affectionate, yet with a 
 spice of saucy independence withal, which often 
 set rules and regulations at defiance, and 
 laughed at anger which she knew would fall 
 but lightly on her head. 
 
 As we shall have to speak more of her here- 
 after, however, we will now turn to another of 
 our group, and talk of the good old Earl, 
 whose trusty man, Blawket, we have already 
 introduced to the reader's notice. Hugh, Lord 
 of Monthermer, or Mo'thermer, as it was ge- 
 nerally pronounced — and whom, as his name 
 is not a very musical one, wc shall more fre- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 81 
 
 qiiently call " the Earl " — was in the fifty-ninth 
 or sixtieth year of his age ; and — as he had seen 
 many perils by land and sea, had been in wars 
 against the heathen, both in Spain and Palestine, 
 and had spent the greater part of his life in the 
 tented field, and on the battle plain — his frame 
 was somewhat worn and shaken, though he had 
 once well merited the name which had been 
 bestowed upon him in early years, when people, 
 from the hardships which he endured unshrink- 
 ingly, had called him Iron Monthermer. He 
 was still strong and powerful, however — though 
 gaunt and meagre ; a brown tint of health was 
 upon his face, and the light of clear and strong 
 intelligence was in his eye. His features were 
 aquiline, and somewhat harsh, his chin promi- 
 nent, his brow strongly marked, and his fore- 
 head high and capacious, with his white hair 
 lying lightly upon it, like snow upon a moun- 
 tain. Notwithstanding several defects in point 
 of beaut}^, and a sternness of outline in al- 
 most every feature, there was something un- 
 commonly pleasing, as well as striking, in the 
 whole expression of his countenance, and one 
 E 3 
 
82 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 read there kindness of heart, as well as firmness 
 and decision of character. He was habited 
 richly enough, but not gorgeously so; and, 
 though not what was considered armed in those 
 days, he carried more weapons, but of a differ- 
 ent sort, about his person than is required for 
 any modern trooper. 
 
 The fourth person, of whose appearance we 
 shall now give some account, was the young man 
 who had ridden forward to speak with Ralph Har- 
 land, Hugh de Monthermer by name, but com- 
 monly called by all who knew him, " The Lord 
 Hugh." He was the only nephew of the Earl, 
 and presmnptive heir to his title and estates. 
 At the same time, however, he was altogether 
 independent of his uncle, being the son of that 
 James de Monthermer, who was summoned to 
 parliament in the first year of the reign of 
 Henry the Third, as Baron Amesbury, having 
 married the heiress of that ancient house. His 
 father had long been dead; and as he had received 
 his military education under his uncle, he still 
 attached himself to that nobleman — respecting 
 him as a parent, and treated by him as a son. 
 He was some four or five years younger than 
 
FOREST DAYS. 83 
 
 Alured de Ashby, but had nevertheless gained 
 considerable renown in arms, both under his 
 uncle, and in service, which he had taken 
 for a time with the King of Castile, in order 
 to win his knightly spurs with honour. In 
 person, he somewhat resembled the Earl, 
 though he was taller, and his features were both 
 softened by youth, and were smaller in them- 
 selves. His complexion was of a dark, warm 
 brown, his hair short and curling, his hazel eyes 
 full of light and fire, and a frank, but somewhat 
 sarcastic smile, playing frequently about his well- 
 cut lip. On the whole, it is seldom that a hand- 
 somer face meets the eye, and his countenance 
 well expressed the spirit within, which was gay 
 and cheerful, but none the less thoughtful and 
 imaginative. There might be a slight touch of 
 satirical sharpness in his disposition, which often 
 prompted a laugh or a jest at any of the many 
 follies that an observing eye, in all ages, and all 
 states of society, must meet at every turn. But 
 a kind heart and a well regulated mind taught 
 him to repress, rather than to encourage such a 
 disposition, and it seldom broke forth unless the 
 absurdity was very gross. 
 
84 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 In those ages it was rare to find a man in his 
 station who possessed even a very low degree 
 of learning. To read and write was an accom- 
 plishment, and anything like elegance of com- 
 position, or a knowledge of classical lore, was 
 hardly, if ever, dreamt of. In these respects, 
 however, circumstances had given Hugh de 
 Monthermer an advantage over many of his 
 contemporaries. Various foreign languages he 
 had acquired in following his uncle ; and having 
 been crushed and nearly killed, by his horse 
 falling in one of the passes of the Taurus, he 
 had been left for several months in a convent 
 amongst the mountains, while broken bones 
 were set, and health restored, by the skill of the 
 monks. There, some of the friars, more learned 
 than the rest, had taken a pleasure in solacing 
 his weary hours, by communicating to him 
 what was then considered a rich store of know- 
 ledge. With a quick and intelligent mind, he 
 had thus gained, not only much information 
 at the time, but a taste for reading, which in 
 after years excited some envy, and called forth 
 many a scoff from others, who had themselves no 
 inclination for emy exercises but those of the body. 
 
lOllEST DAYS. bJ 
 
 Amongst these was Alarecl de Ashby, who 
 affected to hold his mihtary talents cheap, and 
 called him a book-worm ; but, nevertheless, 
 Hugh de Monthermer quietly pursued his 
 course, although, to say the truth, for reasons 
 of his own, he w^as not a little anxious to gain 
 the friendship of the house of Ashby, which 
 during many years had been separated from his 
 own by one of those fierce and bloody feuds 
 that so often existed in those days between the 
 noble families of the land. The reconciliation of 
 the two houses had been but lately effected, and 
 could scarcely yet be called cordial, though the 
 bond of party feeling brought them frequently 
 into long and intimate communication with each 
 other. 
 
 The dress of the young Lord was not so 
 homely as that of his uncle ; there might, in- 
 deed, be a little foppery in it ; for though the 
 colours were dark, yet the embroidery which 
 appeared in every part was rich and costly, and 
 the long and hanging sleeves of the loose coat 
 he wore, was in itself one of the distinguishing 
 marks of a petit maitre of that day. Into 
 the extreme, however, he did not go: there 
 
86 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 was no long and braided hair, there were no 
 devils, and angels, and cupids, hanging over his 
 head on a fanciful hood; but instead of that 
 most ugly part of our ancient garments, he wore 
 a cap or hat, a mode then common in Flanders 
 and in Italy, with a long feather crossing from 
 right to left, and nearly touching his shoulder. 
 With the exception of the loose tunic, or gown, 
 all the rest of his dress fitted as closely as 
 possible, leaving nothing to embarrass the free 
 action of his limbs, except, indeed, the long 
 points of his shoes, which, though very mo- 
 derate for that period, were certainly not less 
 than twenty inches longer than necessary. 
 
 The rest of the party was composed of several 
 noblemen, wealthy and powerful, but of less dis- 
 tinction than the two Earls we have mentioned, 
 and evidently looking up to them as to their 
 leaders ; and besides these, was a distant cousin of 
 the Earl of Monthermer, brought, as it were, to 
 balance the presence of Richard de Ashby, 
 though, to say the truth, if he more than out- 
 weighed that gentleman in wealth and respecta- 
 bility, he was very much his inferior in cunning 
 and talents. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 87 
 
 As a matter of coarse, the events which had 
 just taken place upon the green formed the first 
 subject of conversation with the personages 
 assembled in the inn. The younger men only 
 laughed over the occurrence. " You must get 
 some fair lady to darn the hole in your hood. 
 Rich *rd," said the Lord Alured. 
 
 ■ I wonder," added another of the young 
 noblemen, ** that the arrow did not carry away 
 one of those soft tresses." 
 
 " It might well have been called Scathelock, 
 then," observed a third. 
 
 " It only disturbed a little of the perfume," 
 rejoined Alured. 
 
 The elder gentleman, however, treated the 
 matter more seriously. The Earl of Ashby 
 rated his kinsman with an angry brow for his 
 licentiousness, and represented to him with 
 great justice the evil of nobles bringing them- 
 selves into bad repute with the people. 
 
 " Do you not know," he said, " that at the pre- 
 sent moment, between the king and his foreign 
 minions on the one hand, and the people on the 
 other, the English noblemen have to make 
 thei; choice ? — and, of course, it is by the people 
 
88 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 that we must stand. They are our support, and 
 our strength, and we must avoid in all things 
 giving them just cause of complaint. Scathe- 
 lock? — Scathelock? — I have heard that name." 
 
 " You must have heard it often, my father," 
 said Alured de Ashby. " It is the name of one 
 of our good forest outlaws of Sherwood. I have 
 seen the man twice in the neighbourhood of 
 our own place, and though I did not mark this 
 fellow with the arrow much, he has the same 
 look and air." 
 
 " Seen him twice, and did not arrest him ?" 
 cried Richard de Ashby, with marked emphasis. 
 
 " Heaven forefend !" exclaimed Alured laugh« 
 ing. " What, arrest a good English yeoman, on 
 account of a taste for the King's venison ! If 
 Harry would throw open his forests to us, and 
 not give to proud Frenchmen and Spaniards 
 rights that he denies to his English nobles, we 
 might help him in such matters ; but as it is, 
 no free-forester shall ever be arrested by our 
 people, or on our land." 
 
 The Earl of Monthermer and his nephew had 
 both been silent, leaving the rebuke of Richard 
 de Ashby to his own relations ; for they well 
 
FOREST DAYS. 89 
 
 knew the jealousy of the nobles with whom 
 they were leagued, and were anxious to avoid 
 every mattei of offence. The poor kinsman, 
 however, had established a right to sneer even at 
 the proud Earl of Ashby and his no less haughty 
 son, upon grounds which at first sight would 
 seem to afford no basis for such a privilege. 
 His poverty and partial dependence upon them 
 had taught them to endure much at his hands 
 which they would have borne from no other 
 man on earth ; and he, keen-sighted in taking 
 advantage of the higher as well as the lower qua- 
 lities of all those he had to do with, failed not to 
 render their forbearance a matter of habit, by fre- 
 quently trying it as far as he dared to venture. 
 
 " Forgive an old proverb, Alured," he replied, 
 " but you know, it is said, that * fowls of a fea- 
 ther flock together.' Perhaps, as you love forest 
 thieves so well, you have no distaste for the 
 King's venison yourself?" 
 
 " An unlucky proverb for you, Richard," said 
 the young lord, while his father's cheek got 
 somewhat red ; " if what we have heard be true, 
 the fowls you flock with are not quite those that 
 suit our present purposes." 
 
90 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " What you have heard I" exclaimed Richard 
 de Ashby, turning somewhat pale. " If you 
 have heard aught against me," he added, after 
 an instant's thought, turning at the same time 
 towards Hugh de Monthermer, and bowing low, 
 " I know to what noble hands I may trace it." 
 
 " You are mistaken, sir," said Hugh, sternly. 
 " Respect for these two noble lords, your kins- 
 men, has made me eager that no charge should 
 be brought against you by any of our people. 
 Of this they are well aware." 
 
 " And they are aware also," added the Earl, 
 " that both I and my nephew declared from the 
 first that we believe you utterly innocent of all 
 knowledge of the fact, even if it should prove 
 to be true." 
 
 " What fact ?" demanded Richard, in a low 
 tone, and with a wandering eye, which did not 
 produce a very favourable impression on the 
 minds of any of those who observed his coun- 
 tenance. " What fact, my lord ? — but any 
 charge brought by a Monthermer, or one of a 
 Monthermer's followers, against an Ashby, 
 should be viewed with some slight caution, 
 me thinks." 
 
FOREST DAYS. 91 
 
 " Certainly !" said Alurcd de Ashby, in a 
 marked tone. 
 
 But to the surprise of both, the Earl of 
 Monthermer added likewise, " Certainly ! — 
 Old feuds, even after they are happily laid 
 at rest," he continued, calmly, " will leave 
 rankling suspicions, especially in the minds 
 of the low and the uneducated, and such I 
 doubt not may be, in some degree at least, the 
 origin of a charge to which I would not have 
 listened for a moment, if it had not been that my 
 good lord and friend here, who was present when 
 it was made this morning, insisted that it should 
 be inquired into. — The charge is this, sir, that 
 you have with you, disguised as one of your 
 servants, a spy of the King's. This accusation 
 was brought by my good yeoman, Blawket, who 
 vows he saw that man with you when I sent 
 him to meet you and others here but a few days 
 ago. — Sir, you seem agitated, and I know that 
 such a charge must necessarily affect any gen- 
 tleman deeply ; but my Lord of Ashby here 
 present is well aware that, from the first, I de- 
 clared my conviction of your innocence of all 
 share in the transaction," 
 
92 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 "I assure you, my lord, — on my honour, 
 gentlemen — believe me," cried Richard de 
 Ashby, hesitating, " it is not true — the man is 
 a liar r 
 
 " No, Sir Richard, no," said Hugh de Mon- 
 thermer at once, " the man is no liar, but as 
 honest a yeoman as ever lived. You may have 
 been deceived. Sir Richard," he added, v^rith a 
 slight smile curling his lip ; " we are all of us 
 subject to be deceived occasionally. Blawket 
 may have been deceived, too ; but that I should 
 Gay may soon be proved, for he declares that the 
 leopards of Henry of Winchester will be found 
 -ii^on the breast of your servant, Richard Keen." 
 
 " Fool !" muttered Richard de Ashby to 
 himself, but at the same moment his kinsman, 
 the Earl, exclaimed, " Let him be sent for — let 
 him be sent for !" 
 
 " I will call him immediately," said Richard 
 de Ashby, turning towards the door; "but I 
 declare, so help me Heaven ! if this man have 
 ever been in the King's service, it is more than 
 I know." 
 
 " Stay, stay, Richard !" exclaimed the Lord 
 Alurcd. " Let some one else go and call him. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 93 
 
 and let no word be said to him of the matter in 
 hand." 
 
 " Do you doubt me, my lord ?" demanded his 
 kinsman, turning upon him with a frowning 
 brow. " If I am to have no support from my 
 own relations " 
 
 " An honest man needs no support, sir, but 
 his own honesty," said Lord Alured, interrupt- 
 ing him. " Not that I doubt thee, Richard," 
 he continued ; " but I would fain have thee tell 
 me how that fellow came into thy service, while 
 some one else calls him hither. Sir Charles 
 Le Moore, I pr'ythee bid them send hither this 
 Richard Keen. Now, good cousin, tell us how 
 this man came to thee, for he is not one of our 
 own people born, that is evident. Richard Keen ! 
 I never heard the name." 
 
 " How he came to me, matters not much to 
 the question," replied Richard de Ashby. " I 
 hired him in London. I was told he was a 
 serviceable knave, had been in France and 
 Almaine, and — but here comes Sir Charles Le 
 Moore. Have you not found him ?" — and as he 
 spoke he fixed his eyes eagerly, but with a dark 
 smile, upon the face of the gentleman who 
 
04 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 entered, as if some anticipations of triumph had 
 crossed his mind. 
 
 " The people have gone to seek him," said 
 Sir Charles ; " he is somewhere about the green, 
 and it is growing dark ; so I let them go, as I 
 know not the place." 
 
 A moment or two elapsed, but before the 
 conversation could be generally renewed, one of 
 the attendants of the Earl of Ashby appeared 
 at the door, bringing intelligence that Richard 
 Keen was nowhere to be found, and that his 
 horse and saddle-bags had disappeared also. 
 
 The kinsman of the Earl of Ashby affected to 
 be furious at the news — " The villain has robbed 
 me of the horse," he said, " and, doubtless, of 
 other things also. My lord," he continued, 
 turning to the Earl of Monthermer, " I beg 
 your pardon ; doubtless your servant was right, 
 and this man has fled, having obtained some in- 
 timation of the charge against him. Did any 
 of you see him go ?" he added, addressing the 
 servant who had appeared. 
 
 " No, sir," replied the yeoman. " We were 
 all upon the green, for it must have been, while 
 these noble lords were talking with you, before 
 
FOREST DAYS. 95 
 
 they came in, that he went away. The host 
 saw him go towards the stable, just before the 
 arrow was shot that stuck in your hood." 
 
 Richard de Ashby frowned, for the man's 
 tone was certainly not the most respectful. But 
 before any observation could be made, a noise 
 and bustle was heard without, which suspended 
 the reply upon the lips of the Earl's kinsman ; 
 and the next moment, the landlord himself, 
 with his full round face on fire with anger and 
 grief, pushed his way into the room, exclaim- 
 ing — " Noble lords and gentlemen, I claim 
 justice and help. They have taken away my 
 daughter from me — they have corrupted and 
 carried off my poor Kate. — You, sir, you are at 
 the bottom of this !" he continued, turning furi- 
 ously to Richard de Ashby. " I have seen your 
 whisperings and your talkings ! — My good lords 
 and gentlemen, I claim justice and assistance." 
 
 " How now !" cried Richard de Ashby, in as 
 fierce a tone as his own, but not quite so natural 
 a one. " Dare you say that I have anything to 
 do with this ? Your light o'love daughter has 
 made mischief enough to-night already. Let us 
 hear no more of her. Doubtless you will find 
 
96 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 her in some cottage, if not in the woods, with 
 her lover, trying to make up by courtesies for 
 her fickle conduct of this morning." 
 
 " No, sir — no, no, no !" replied the host, ve- 
 hemently ; " she is in neither of those places ! 
 She was seen, some half an hour ago, going out 
 at the end of the village with your servant be- 
 side her ; and a boy says that he found a black 
 mare tied to a tree not a quarter of a mile along 
 the road. Gentlemen, I pray you do me right, 
 and suffer not my child to be taken from me in 
 this way by any one, be he gentle or simple." 
 
 " Was your daughter going willingly ?" de- 
 manded the Earl of Ashby. 
 
 " I know not, sir — I know not !" cried the 
 host, wringing his hands ; " all I know is, they 
 have taken her, and I am sure this is the man 
 who has caused it to be done." 
 
 " I know nothing of her, fellow !" replied 
 Richard de Ashby. " You must hold your 
 daughter's beauty very high to suppose that I 
 would take the trouble of having her carried off." 
 
 " Why, Richard, you are not scrupulous," 
 said his cousin. 
 
 " London and Winchester," cried another 
 
FOilEST DAYS. 97 
 
 gentleman, with a laugh, " are indebted to him 
 for many a fair importation, I believe." 
 
 *'His taste lies amongst country wenches," 
 added a third. And notwithstanding the misery 
 of the injured father, a great deal of merriment 
 and jesting was the first effect produced by the 
 complaint of the host. 
 
 " If this tale be true," said Hugh de Mon- 
 thermer, who had been looking do\^ai with a 
 frowning brow, " I would strongly advise Sir 
 Richard de Ashby to mount his horse, put his 
 spurs to the flanks, and not draw a rein till he is 
 safe in Nottingham. There be people about this 
 neighbourhood who are likely to render such a 
 course expedient." 
 
 " I shall do no such thing, sir," replied Richard 
 de Ashby ; *^ this good man's suspicions are false 
 as far as they regard me, though it is not at all 
 improbable that the knave. Keen, who has, it 
 seems, deceived me — and is a good-looking varlet, 
 moreover — has played the fool with a buxom 
 light-headed country wench, whose cheek I may 
 once or twice have pinched for lack of some- 
 thing better to do." 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 ** Such being the case, my Lord of Ashby," 
 said the Earl, drily, " as your kinsman has 
 nought to do with the affair, and as this servant 
 of his has cheated and robbed him, injured this 
 good man, and is suspected of being a spy — by 
 your leave, I will send some of my people after 
 him without farther delay. Without there ! Is 
 Blawket to be found ?" 
 
 " Here, my lord," replied the man, standing 
 forward as upright as a lance and as stiff as a 
 collar of brawn, from amidst a group of six or 
 seven servants, who were all discussing as vehe- 
 mently on the one side of the door the events 
 which had just taken place as their masters 
 were on the other. 
 
 " Mount in a minute," said the Earl of Mon- 
 thermer. " Take with you three of your fel- 
 lows whose horses are the freshest ; follow this 
 Richard Keen, from the best information you 
 can get, and bring him hither with all speed, 
 together with the girl he has carried off." 
 
 " Shall I beat him, my lord ?" asked the 
 yeoman. 
 
 "Not unless he resists," replied the Earl; 
 
FOKEST DAYS. V9 
 
 " but bring hlni dead or alive, and use all means 
 to get information of his road." 
 
 ^^ I will bring him, my lord," replied Blawket, 
 and retired, followed by the host, who ceased 
 not, till the man was in the saddle, to give him 
 hints as to finding his daughter, mingled with 
 lamentations over fate and praises of the house 
 of Monthermer. 
 
 " Now," said the Earl, when they were alone, 
 " let us speak of more important things ; but it 
 being announced that supper was well nigh 
 ready, the Earl of Ashby, who had an affection 
 for the good things of this life, proposed that 
 any farther conversation should be put off till 
 after that meal. The other Earl, knowing that 
 his placability depended much upon the condi- 
 tion of his stomach, agreed to the suggestion ; 
 and after the ceremony of washing hands had 
 been performed, the supper was served and 
 passed over as such proceedings usually did in 
 those days, with huge feeding on the part of 
 several present, and much jesting on the part 
 of the younger men. A good deal of wine was 
 also drank, notwithstanding a caution from the 
 f2 
 
100 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Earl of Monthermer to be moderate. But mo- 
 deration was little known at that time. Mal- 
 voisie was added to Bordeaux, and the spiced 
 wine, then called claret, succeeded the Mal- 
 voisie ; a cup of hippocras was handed round 
 to sweeten the claret, and the Earl of Ashby 
 fell asleep at the very moment the conference 
 should have begun. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 101 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 I CANNOT help grieving that amongst all the 
 changes which have taken place, — amongst all 
 the worlds, if I may so call them, which have 
 come and gone in the lapse of time, the forest 
 world should have altogether departed, leaving 
 scarcely greater or more numerous vestiges of 
 its existence than those that remain of the 
 earth before the Flood. The green and bowery 
 glades of the old forest, their pleasant places of 
 sport and exercise, the haunts of the wild deer, 
 the wolf, and the boar, the fairy-like dingles 
 and dells, the wood-craft that they witnessed, 
 the sciences, and the characters that were pecu- 
 liar to themselves, have now, alas ! passed away 
 from most of the countries of Europe, and have 
 left scarcely a glen where the wild stag can find 
 shelter, or where the contemplative man can 
 
102 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 pniiso under the shade of old primeval trees, to 
 r.ficct upon the past or speculate upon the 
 future. The antlered monarch of the wood is 
 now reduced to a domestic beast, in a walled 
 park ; and the man of thought, however much he 
 may love nature's unadorned face, however 
 much he may feel himself cribbed and confined 
 amongst the works of human hands, must shut his 
 prisoner fancies within the bounds of his own 
 solitary chamber, unless he is fond to indulge 
 them by the side of the grand but monotonous 
 ocean. The infinite variety of the forest is no 
 longer his ; it belongs to another age, and to 
 another class of beings. 
 
 In the times I write of, it was not so, and the 
 greater part of every country in Europe was 
 covered with rich and ancient wood ; but, per- 
 haps, no forest contained more to interest or to 
 excite than that of merry Shervv^ood — comprising 
 within itself, as the reader knows, a vast extent 
 of very varied country, sweeping round villages, 
 and even cities, and containing, in its involu- 
 tions, many a hamlet, the inhabitants of which 
 derived their sustenance from the produce of the 
 forest ground. 
 
FOREST DAYS, 103 
 
 The aspect of the wood itself was as different 
 in different places as it is possible to conceive. 
 In some spots the trees were far apart, with a 
 wide expanse of open ground, covered by low 
 brushwood, or the small shrub bearing the bil- 
 berry ; in others, you came to a wide extent, 
 covered with nothing but high fern and old 
 scrubbed hawthorn trees; but throughout a 
 great part of the forest the sun seldom if ever 
 penetrated, during the summer months, to the 
 paths beneath, so thick was the canopy of green 
 leaves above, while those paths themselves were 
 generally so narrow that in many of them two 
 men could not walk abreast. 
 
 There were other and wider ways, indeed, 
 through the wood, some of them cart roads, for 
 the accommodation of woodmen and carriers, 
 some of them highways from one neighbouring 
 town to another ; but the latter were not very 
 numerous or very much frequented — many a 
 tale being told of travellers lightened of their 
 baggage, in passing through Sherwood ; and, to 
 speak the truth, no one could very well say, at 
 that time, who and what were the dwellers in 
 the forest, or their profession ; so that those 
 
104 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 who loved not strange company, kept to the 
 more open country if they could. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was a beautiful ride across 
 almost any part of the woodland, offering mag- 
 nificent changes of scene at every step, and the 
 people of those times were not so incapable of 
 enjoying it as has been generally supposed ; but 
 still, with all the tales of outlaws and robbers 
 which were then afloat, it required a stout 
 determination, or a case of great necessity, to 
 impel any of the citizens of the neighbouring 
 towns to make a trip across the forest in the 
 spring or autumn of the year. Those who did 
 so, usually came back with some story to tell, 
 and some, indeed, brought home stripes upon 
 their shoulders and empty bags. The latter, 
 however, were almost always of particular 
 classes. Rich monks and jovial friars occa- 
 sionally fared ill; the petty tyrants of the neigh- 
 bouring shire ran a great risk, if they trusted 
 themselves far under the green leaf; the wealthy 
 and ostentatious merchant might sometimes re- 
 turn rather lighter than he went ; but the pea- 
 sant, the honest franklin, the village curate, the 
 young, and women of all degrees, had generally 
 
FOREST DAYS. 105 
 
 very little to relate, except that they had seen a 
 forester here, or a forester there, who gave thein 
 a civil word, and bade God speed them, or who 
 aided them, in any case of need, with skilful 
 hands and a right good will. 
 
 Thus there was evidently a strong degree of 
 favouritism shown in the dealings of the habitual 
 dwellers in the greenwood with the various 
 classes of travellers who passed through on bu- 
 siness or on pleasure. But, nevertheless, it was 
 the few who complained, and the many who 
 lauded, so that the reputation of the merry men 
 of Sherwood was high amongst all the inferior 
 orders of society at the time when this tale 
 begins. 
 
 So much was necessary to be said, to give 
 the reader any idea of the scene into the 
 midst of which we must now plunge, leaving 
 Barnesdale behind us, and quitting Yorkshire 
 for Nottingham. 
 
 It was about two o'clock, on the second of 
 
 May, then, that a party of horsemen reached a 
 
 spot in the midst of Sherwood, where the road — • 
 
 after having passed for nearly two miles through 
 
 F 3 
 
106 lOREST DAYS. 
 
 a dense part of the wood, which the eye could 
 not penetrate above fifteen or twenty yards on 
 either side — ran down a sHght sandy descent, 
 and entered upon a more open scene, where the 
 trees had been cleared away not many years 
 before, and where some two hundred acres of 
 ground appeared covered with scattered brush- 
 wood and bilberry bushes, sloping down the side 
 of a wide hill, at the bottom of which the thick 
 wood began again, extending in undulating 
 lines for many a mile beneath the eye of the 
 traveller. 
 
 The number of the journeyers was five ; and 
 they pulled in the rein to let their horses drink 
 at a clear stream which crossed the road, and bub- 
 bling onward, was soon lost amongst the bushes 
 beyond. Four of them were dressed as yeomen 
 attached to some noble house ; for although 
 liveries, according to the modern acceptation of 
 the word, were then unknown, and the term 
 itself applied to quite a different thing, yet the 
 habit was already coming in, of fixing a parti- 
 cular badge or cognizance upon all the fol- 
 lowers or retainers of great noblemen, as well 
 as of kings, whereby they might know each other 
 
FOREST DAYS. 107 
 
 in any of the frequent affrays which took place 
 in those times. Sometimes it was fixed upon 
 the breast, sometimes upon the back, sometimes 
 upon the arm, where it appeared in the present 
 instance. Each of the yeomen had a sword and 
 buckler, a dagger on the right side, and a bow 
 and a sheaf of arrows on the shoulders ; and all 
 were strong men and tall, with the Anglo-Saxon 
 blood shining out in the complexion. 
 
 The fourth personage was no other than 
 Ralph Harland, the stout young franklin, of 
 whom we have already spoken. He, too, was 
 well armed with sword and buckler, though 
 he bore no bow. Besides the usual dagger, 
 however, he wore, hanging by a green cord 
 from his neck, a long, crooked, sharp-pointed 
 knife, called in those days an anelace, which 
 was, I believe, peculiar to the commons of 
 England and Flanders, and which was often 
 fatally employed in the field of battle in stab- 
 bing the heavy horses of the knights and men- 
 at-arms. 
 
 The horses of this party were evidently tired 
 with a long, hot ride, and the horsemen stop- 
 ped, as I have said, to let their beasts drink in 
 
l08 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 the stream before they proceeded onward. As 
 they pulled up, a fat doe started from the brush- 
 wood about thirty yards distant, and bounded 
 away towards the thicker parts of the forest, 
 and at the same moment a loud, clear, mellow 
 voice, exclaimed — " So, ho, madam ! nobody 
 will hurt you in the month of May ! Give you 
 good day, sirs ! — whither are ye going ?" 
 
 The eyes of all but young Harland had been 
 following the deer, and his had been bent, with 
 a look of sad and stern abstraction, upon the 
 stream, but every one turned immediately as 
 the words were uttered ; and there before them 
 on the road, stood the speaker. How he 
 came there, however, no one could tell, for the 
 moment before, the highway was clear for a 
 quarter of a mile, and there seemed no bush 
 or tree in the immediate neighbourhood suffi- 
 ciently large to conceal a full grown man. 
 
 The personage who accosted them was cer- 
 tainly full-grown, and very well grown, too. He 
 was in height about five feet eleven, but not 
 what could be called large in the bone ; at 
 least, the proportion of the full and swelling 
 muscle that clothed his limbs made the bone 
 
FOREST DAYS. 109 
 
 seem small. His foot, too, was less than might 
 have been expected from his height; and 
 thougl> his hand was strong and sinewy, the 
 shape was good, and the fingers were long. 
 His breadth over the chest was very great; 
 but he was thin in the flank, and small in the 
 waist ; and when his arm hung loosely by his 
 side, the tip of his middle finger reached nearly 
 to his knee. His countenance was a very fine 
 one ; the forehead high and broad, but with 
 the brow somewhat prominent above the eyes, 
 giving a keen and eagle-like look to a face 
 in every other respect frank and gentle. His 
 well rounded chin, covered with a short curl- 
 ing beard, of a light brown hue, was rather 
 prominent than otherwise, but all the features 
 w^ere small and in good proportion; and the 
 clear blue eye, with its dark-black eyelashes, 
 and the arching turn of the lip and mouth, 
 gave a merry expression to the whole, rather 
 reckless, perhaps, but open and free, and plea- 
 sant to the beholder. 
 
 In dress he was very much like the foresters 
 whom we have before described ; he w^ore upon 
 his head a little velvet cap, with a gold button in 
 
110 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 the front, and a bunch of woodcock's feathers 
 therein. He had also an image, either in gold 
 or silver gilt, of St. Hubert on horsebt^ck, on 
 the front of the cross-belt in which his sword 
 was hung. The close-fitting coat of Lincoln 
 green, the tight hose of the same, the boots of 
 untanned leather, disfigured by no long points, 
 the sheaf of arrows, the bow, the sword, and 
 bracer, were all there ; and, moreover, by his 
 side hung a pouch of crimson cloth called the 
 gipciere, and, resting upon it, a hunting horn, 
 tipped with silver. As the fashion of those 
 days v/ent, his apparel was certainly not rich, 
 but still it was becoming, and had an air of dis- 
 tinction which would have marked him out 
 amongst men more splendidly habited than 
 himself. 
 
 Such was the person who stood before the 
 travellers when they looked round, but taken by 
 surprise, none of the party spoke in answer to 
 his question. 
 
 " What !" he said, again, with a smile, " as 
 silent as if I had caught you loosing your bow 
 against the king's deer in the month of May ? 
 I beseech you, fair gentlemen, tell me who you 
 
FOREST DAYS. Ill 
 
 are that ride merry Sherwood at noon, for I 
 cannot suffer you to go on till I know." 
 
 " Cannot suffer us to go on ?" cried Blawket. 
 " You are a bold man to say so to five." 
 
 " I am a bold man," replied the forester, " as 
 bold as Robin Hood ; and I tell you again, good 
 yeomen, that I must know." 
 
 What might have been Blawket's reply, who 
 shall say? for — as we have before told the reader 
 — he had some idea of his own consequence, and 
 no shght reliance on his own vigour ; but Ralph 
 Harland interposed, exclaiming, " Stay, stay, 
 Blawket, this must be the man we look for to 
 give us aid. I have seen his face before, I am 
 well nigh sure. Let me speak with him." 
 
 " Ay, ay, they show themselves in all sorts of 
 forms," answered his companion, while Harland 
 dismounted and approached the stranger. " One 
 of them took me in as a ploughman, and now 
 we have them in another shape." 
 ■■ In the meanwhile, Harland had approached 
 the forester, and had put into his hand a small 
 strip of parchment, in shape and appearance 
 very much like the ticket of a trunk in modern 
 
112 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 days. It was covered on one side with writing 
 in a large, good hand, but yet it would have 
 puzzled the wit of the best decipherer of those 
 or of our own times to make out what it meant, 
 without a key. It run as follows : — 
 
 " Scathclock, number one, five, seven, to the 
 man of Sherwood." Then came the figure of 
 an arrow, and then the words, " A friend, as 
 by word of mouth. Help, help, help !" 
 
 This was all, but it seemed perfectly satis- 
 factory to the eye that rested upon it, for he 
 instantly crushed the parchment in his hand, 
 saying, " I thought so ! — Go on for half a mile," 
 he continued ; '' follow the man that you will 
 find at the corner of the first path. Say nothing 
 to him, but stop where he stops, and take the 
 bits out of your horses' mouths, for they must 
 feed ere they go on. Away !" he added ; 
 " away ! and lose no time." 
 
 Ralph Harland sprang upon his horse's back 
 again, and rode on with the rest, while the fo- 
 rester took a narrow path across the brushwood, 
 which led to the thicker wood above. They 
 soon lost sight of him, however, as they them- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 113 
 
 selves rode on ; but when they had gone nearly 
 half a mile, they heard the sound of a horn in 
 the direction which he had taken. 
 
 A moment or two after, they came to a path 
 leading to the right, and looking down it, saw a 
 personage, dressed in the habit of a miller's 
 man, leaning upon a stout staff in the midst of 
 the narrow road. The instant he beheld them 
 he turned away, and walked slowly onward, 
 without turning to see whether they noticed or 
 not. Harland led the way after him, however, 
 for the path would not admit two abreast, and 
 the rest followed at a walk. 
 
 They thus proceeded for somewhat more than 
 a mile, taking several turns, and passing the end 
 of more than one path, each so like the other, 
 that the eye must have been well practised in 
 woodcraft which could retrace the way back to the 
 high road again. At length they came to a little 
 square cut in the wood, about the eighth part 
 of an acre in extent, at the further corner of 
 which was a hut built in the simplest manner, 
 with posts driven into the ground, and thatched 
 over, while the interstices were filled with flat 
 layers of earth, a square hole being left open 
 
114 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 for a window, and one somewhat longer ap- 
 pearing for the door. 
 
 Here their guide paused, and turning round, 
 looked them over from head to foot without 
 saying a word. 
 
 *' Ha ! miller, is this your mill ?" said Blaw- 
 ket, as they rode up. 
 
 "Yes," answered the stranger, in a rough tone, 
 shaking his staff at the yeoman ; " and this is 
 my mill-wheel, which shall grind the bran out 
 of any one who asks me saucy questions." 
 
 "On my life, I should like to try!" cried 
 Blawket, jumping down from his horse. 
 
 "Hush — hush!" cried Harland; "you know 
 we were told not to speak to him." 
 
 " And a good warning, too," said the other. 
 "You will soon have somebody to speak to, 
 and then pray speak to the purpose. 
 
 " Ah ! Madge she was a merry maid , 
 A merry maid, with a round black eye ; 
 And everything Jobson to iier said. 
 The saucy jade she ask'd him, ' Why?' 
 
 *' ' I'll deck thee out in kirtles fine, 
 If you'll be mine,' he said, one day; 
 * I'll give you gold, if you'll be mine/ 
 But ' Why ?' was all the maid would say. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 115 
 
 '' ' I love you well, indeed I do,' 
 The youth he answered, with a sigh ; 
 
 * To you I ever will be true.' 
 
 The saucy girl still ask'd him, * Why V 
 
 " But one day, near the church, he said, 
 
 * The ring is here — the priest is nigh. 
 Come, let us in, Madge, and be wed ;* 
 But then she no more ask'd him, * Why ?' " 
 
 So sung the miller, with an easy, careless, 
 saucy air, leaning his back against the turf 
 wall of the hut, and twirling his staff round be- 
 tween his finger and thumb, as if prepared to 
 tell the clock upon the head of any one who ap- 
 proached too near. 
 
 There was no time for any farther questions, 
 however ; for he had scarcely finished the last 
 stave, when the forester whom they had first 
 met appeared from behind the hut, with a 
 brow that looked not quite so free and gay as 
 when the travellers had last seen him. *' Come 
 — come, master miller," he said, " you should 
 have to do with corn. Get some oats for these 
 good men's horses, for they must speed back 
 again as fast as they came." 
 
 "They will find oats enough in the hut, 
 Robin," replied the other ; " but I will do your 
 
116 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 bidding, however, though I be a refractory 
 cur." 
 
 Almost at the same moment that the above 
 reply was made, the young franklin was speak- 
 ing likewise. 
 
 " Go back again faster than we came ?" he 
 said. "I shall not feel disposed to do that, 
 unless " 
 
 *'' Unless I show you good cause," interrupted 
 the forester. " But I am not going to do that. 
 You shall stay with me for a while : these men 
 may go back again, for we do not want them. 
 Let them return by Mansfield; that is their 
 only chance of finding those they seek. The 
 Southwell and the Winborn side I will answer 
 for. You know me, Harland, I think ; and if 
 you do, you know that my word is not in vain." 
 
 " I believe I do know you," replied Ralph 
 Harland ; " and I will trust you, at all events. 
 But why should I stay, and not go with them, if 
 there is a chance of finding the people that we 
 want on the Mansfield road ?" 
 
 " Because the chance is but a small one," re- 
 plied the forester, " and because there is some- 
 thing for you to do here, which, I fear me, is 
 
FOREST DAYS. 117 
 
 better for you now than anything that can be 
 (lone for you elsewhere. — Quick ! sHt open the 
 bag with your knife, careless miller, and let the 
 horses feed out of it on the ground. I want 
 the men to get back quick. Hark ye, yeoman ! 
 Is your name Blawket ?" 
 
 "The same. Master Forester," replied the 
 yeoman. " What of me ?" 
 
 " Why, this," answered the other. " I have 
 heard of you from Scathelock, and know you 
 are a faithful fellow. You must return to my 
 good lord, your master, for me. Tell him that I 
 will meet him between Bloodworth and Nur- 
 stead, the day after to-morrow, by three in the 
 afternoon. Let him bring his whole company 
 with him, for I have tidings to give which it 
 imports them much to hear." 
 
 " Find some other messenger, good forester," 
 replied the yeoman. " My lord sent me to seek 
 for Richard Keen and Kate Greenly, and bade 
 me not come back without having found them." 
 
 " Pshaw !" said the forester, " did I not tell 
 you you would find them on the road to Mans- 
 field, if at all ? If they be not there, they have 
 given you the slip, and are in Nottingham by 
 
118 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 this time. Away with you, Master Blawket, with- 
 out more words ! Give the man a cup of wine, 
 miller; his stomach is sour with long fasting." 
 
 " I know not/' murmured Blawket, hesitating 
 still, but feeling an authority in the forester's 
 speech, under which his own self-confidence 
 quailed. " But who shall I say to my lord sent 
 me back with this message ? I must give him 
 some name, good forester." 
 
 " Well, tell him," replied the person he ad- 
 dressed, with a smile upon his countenance, 
 " that it is Robert of the Lees by Ely, sent you." 
 
 "Tell him Robin Hood!" cried the miller, 
 with a loud laugh. 
 
 "Do as I bid you," rejoined the forester. 
 " Say Robert of the Lees ; by that name will 
 he know me, from passages in other days ; and 
 hark !" he continued — " be sure the Earl of 
 Ashby comes with him, and utter not one word 
 of what that foolish miller just now said." 
 
 " I understand — I understand !" cried Blaw- 
 ket, with a much altered manner — " I will do 
 your bidding, Master Robin of the Lees; but 
 this horse eats so wondrous slow." 
 
 " He will soon be done," said the forester. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 119 
 
 " Give him the wine, miller. We have no cups 
 here ; take it from the stoup, good Blawket, 
 and hand it to your comrades." 
 
 A large tankard of wine Avhich had been 
 brought from the hut went round, and then 
 a minute or two passed in silence while the 
 hoi'ses finished their corn. When it was done, 
 the four yeomen mounted, and at a word from 
 the forester, the miller led the way before 
 them at a quicker pace, leaving his leader 
 behind with the young franklin. 
 
 When they were gone, the forester took a 
 turn backwards and forwards before the hut, 
 without speaking; then pausing, he grasped 
 Harland's hand, saying, in a tone of stern 
 feeling — " Come, Harland, bo a man !" 
 
 "You have bad tidino^s?" asked the vouno* 
 franklin, gazing with painful earn^'stncss in his 
 face. "Tell me, quickly! — the worst blow is 
 past. They are not on the road to Mansfield ?" 
 
 "There is scarcely a chancel" said Robert 
 of the Lees ; " I believe they passed some two 
 hours since, and " 
 
 " And what ?" demanded Ralph, in a low, 
 but eager tone. 
 
120 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " And Richard of Ashby is at Nottingham, 
 waiting for them.'* 
 
 Ralph Harland cast himself down upon the 
 ground, and hid his eyes upon his hands ; 
 while the stout forester stood by, gazing upon 
 him with a look of deep sadness and commisera- 
 tion, and repeating three times the words, " Poor 
 fellow !" 
 
 " Oh, you cannot tell — you cannot tell !" 
 cried Ralph Harland, starting up, and wringing 
 his hand hard ; " you cannot tell what it is to 
 have loved as I have loved — to have trusted as 
 I have trusted, and to find that she in whom 
 my whole hopes rested, she whom I be- 
 lieved to be as pure as the first fallen snow, is 
 but a wanton harlot after all. To quit her 
 father's house, voluntarily — to fly with a base 
 stranger — the promised bride of an honest man 
 — to make herself the leman of a knave like that ! 
 Oh, it is bitter — bitter — bitter! Worse than 
 the blackest misfortune with which fate can 
 plague me — that I can never think of her again 
 but as the paramour of Richard de Ashby ! 
 Would I had died first — died, believing that 
 she was good and true !" 
 
FOREvST DAY.s. 121 
 
 "It is a hard case," said the forester, "and 
 I grieve for yon deeply ; bnt there is a harder 
 case still than it, — that of her father, I mean. 
 To yon, she can be nothing more — she has 
 severed the tie that bound you together; but 
 she is still his daughter, and nothing can cut 
 that bond asunder, though fallen and disho- 
 noured. — It were well if we could separate her 
 from her seducer, Ralph, and give her back to 
 her father's care. This is all, I fear, that now 
 remains for us to do. — Had I known this 
 two hours earlier," he continued, " the nose 
 and ears of Richard de Ashby would by this 
 time have been nailed to the post where the four 
 roads meet ; but the runner Scathelock sent me 
 last night, fell lame on the other side of the 
 abbey, and I did not get the news till about an 
 hour before you came. The scoundrel, in the 
 meanwhile, skirted the forest by Southwell at 
 ten o'clock this morning, so that it is all too 
 late. The time of punishment for his crimes, 
 however, will come : we need not doubt that ; but 
 the time for preventing this one, I fear, is past." 
 
 " But how^ — but how can we punish him ?" 
 
 VOL. I, G 
 
122 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 died Ralph Harland, eagerly; "if he be in 
 Nottingham town, how can we reach him 
 there ? How can we even make him give up the 
 wretched girl, and send her back to her father !" 
 
 "We cannot do it ourselves," replied the 
 forester, " but we can make others do it. Did 
 you not hear the message I sent to the good old 
 Lord of Monthermer?" 
 
 Ralph Harland bent down his eyes with a 
 look of bitter disappointment. " If that be 
 your only hope, it is all in vain," he said ; " the 
 Monthermer is linked to the Earl of Ashby by 
 a common cause ; and in the great movements 
 of people such as these, the feelings, and even 
 the rights of us lesser men are never heeded. 
 The old Earl, good as he is, will not quarrel 
 with Richard de Ashby for John Greenly's 
 daughter, lest it breed a feud between him and 
 the other Lord. There is but cold hope to 
 be found there." 
 
 His companion heard him to an end, but 
 with a faint smile upon his countenance. " I 
 asked the Earl of Ashby, too," he said ; " per- 
 haps we may do something more with him." 
 
FOREST DAYS. 1*^3 
 
 Ralph Harland shook his head. "Not till you ^ 
 have got his neck under your baldrick," he said. 
 
 " Perhaps I may have by that time," replied 
 the forester. "I mean," he continued, in a 
 serious tone, " that I may by that time have a 
 hold upon him which will make him use his 
 power to send back this light-o'-love girl to her 
 father's house. I knoAV old John Greenly well, 
 and grieve for him. Once I found shelter with 
 him when I was under the ban of a tyrant, and 
 no one else would give me refuge. — I never 
 forget such things. He is somewhat worldly, it 
 is true ; but what host is not? It is a part of 
 their trade ; they draw their ale and affection 
 for every guest that comes, the one as readily 
 as another, so that he pay his score. But still 
 the man has not a bad heart, and it will be 
 well-nigh broken by his daughter's shame." 
 
 " She has broken mine," said Ralph Har- 
 land. 
 
 " Nay — nay !" replied his companion ; you 
 must think better of all this. You loved her 
 — she has proved false. Forget her — seek ano- 
 ther. You will find many as fair." 
 g2 
 
124 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " Ay," replied liarland, " I shall find many 
 as fair, perhaps fairer ; but I shall find none 
 that had my first love — none with whom all the 
 thoughts of my early years were in common — 
 none with whom I have wandered about the 
 fields in boyhood, and gathered spring flowers 
 for our May-day games— none with whom I 
 have listened to the singing of the birds when 
 my own heart was as light and tuneful as theirs 
 — none for whom I have felt all those things 
 which I cannot describe, which are like the 
 dawning of love's morning, and which I am sure 
 can never be felt twice over. No — no ! those 
 times are past ; and I must think of such things 
 no more!" 
 
 *^It is all true," said Robert of the Lees, 
 "but the same, good youth, is the case with 
 every earthly joy; each day has its pleasure, 
 each year of our life has things of its own. As 
 the spring brings the flowers, and the summer 
 brings the fruit, and the autumn brings the 
 corn, so every period of man's existence has its 
 apportioned good and evil. I have ever found 
 it so, from infancy till this day, now eight-and- 
 
FOREST BA'i\-.. 123 
 
 thirty years, and you will find it likewise. You 
 will love another — differently, but as well ; with 
 less tenderness, but more trust ; with less pas- 
 sion, but with more esteem ; and you will be 
 happier with her than you would have been 
 with this idle one ; for passion dies soon, kill- 
 ing itself with its own food ; esteem lives, and 
 strengthens by its own power. Shake not thy 
 head, Ralph. I know it is vain to talk to thee as 
 yet, for sorrow and disappointment blind a 
 man's eyes to the future, and he will look at 
 nothing but the past." 
 
 " But of the Earl o£ Ashby," said young Har- 
 land, little cheered, to say the truth, by his 
 companion's reasoning ; " how can you get such 
 a hold of him as will make him constrain his own 
 kinsman to give up his paramour ? — Alas ! that 
 I should call her so !'* 
 
 " Take your bridle over your arm," replied 
 the forester ; " come with me, and I will tell you 
 more. You want rest, and food, and reflection ; 
 but nothing can be done before to-morrow, so 
 we shall have plenty of time to discuss the 
 means, and to arrange the plan." 
 
126 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 Upon the edge of the merry forest-land, on the 
 side nearest to Derbyshire, not far from the 
 little river Lind, and surrounded at that time 
 by woods which joined the district on to Sher- 
 wood itself, there rose, in the days I speak of, 
 a Norman castle of considerable extent. It had 
 been built in the time of William Rufus — had 
 been twice attacked in the turbulent reign of 
 Stephen — had been partly dismantled by order 
 of Henry H. — and had been restored under the 
 dominion of the weak tyrant John. Being not 
 far from Nottingham, it was frequently visited 
 by noble and royal personages, and was often 
 the scene of the splendid and ostentatious hos- 
 pitality of the old baronage of England. 
 
FOEEST DAY'}. 227 
 
 It has now crumbled do\%T3, indeed, and de- 
 parted ; the ploughshare has passed over most of 
 its walls, and the voice of song and merriment is 
 heard in it no more. The lower part of one of 
 the square flanking-towers in the outer wall is 
 all that remains of the once magnificent castle 
 of Lindwell ; and a dingly copse, where many a 
 whirring pheasant rises before the sportsman, 
 now covers the hall and the lady's bower. 
 
 In the days of which I speak, however, it was 
 in its greatest splendour, having come into the 
 possession of the Earl of Ashby by his father's 
 marriage, and being the favourite dwelling of 
 the race. It was situated upon a gentle emi- 
 nence, and the great gate commanded a view 
 over some sixty or seventy acres of meadow 
 land, lying between the castle and the nearest 
 point of the wood ; and for the distance of nearly 
 three miles on the Sherwood side, though there 
 was no cultivated land — except, indeed, a few 
 detached fields here and there — the ground 
 assumed more the aspect of a wild chase than 
 a forest, with the thick trees grouping together 
 to the extent of an acre or two, and then leaving 
 
128 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 wide spaces between, as pasture for the deer 
 and other wild animals, only broken by bushes 
 and hawthorns. 
 
 This district was properly within the limits of 
 Sherwood ; but, as all persons know, who are ac- 
 quainted with the forest laws, certain individuals 
 frequently possessed private woods in the royal 
 forest, which was the case of the Earl of Ashby 
 in his manor of Lindwell ; and, whether or not 
 he had originally any legal right of chase therein, 
 such a privilege had been secured to the manor in 
 the reign of John, by the king's special grant 
 and permission. His rights of vert and venison, 
 then, as they were called, extended over a wido 
 distance around, and it was reported that some 
 disputes had arisen between himself and his 
 sovereign, whether he had not extended the 
 exercise of those rights somewhat beyond their 
 legitimate bounds. 
 
 In the same merry month of May, however, 
 of which we have just been writing, and but one 
 day after the occurrences took place which have 
 just occupied our attention, a gay party issued 
 forth from the gates of the castle, and took its 
 
FOREST DAYS. 129 
 
 way in the direction of Nottingham. We have 
 called it gay, and it was so altogether : gay in 
 colouring, gay in movement, gay in feeling. 
 At the head of it appeared three light-hearted 
 young vi^omen, a lady and her two maids, all 
 about the same age, and none of them having 
 as yet numbered twenty years. Their clothing, 
 was rich and gUttering ; and they were followed 
 by a page, possessing all the requisite qualities 
 for his office in saucy boldness and light self- 
 confidence. Three or four yeomen came next, 
 who, having been left behind while their lord 
 went with numerous attendants upon a distant 
 progress, had necessarily had all the love and 
 merriment of the lower hall to themselves. The 
 horses which bore the whole party were fresh, 
 proud, and spirited; and never, perhaps, was 
 more brightness of appearance and heart em- 
 bodied in one group than in that which took its 
 way down from the castle gate and through the 
 meadows below ; but we must pause for a 
 moment upon the fair leader of the cavalcade, 
 for she is worth a short description. 
 
 The Earl's daughter, Lucy de Ashby, wanted 
 G 3 
 
130 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 yet a few months of that period when girlhood 
 may be said to end and womanhood begin ; 
 where the teens — which are so longingly looked 
 for by the child' — come to their end, and the 
 third ten of the allotted seven begin. Oh, how 
 long do the five tens that are to follow appear, 
 when viewed from the brow of the hill of 
 youth ! And yet the two that are gone contain 
 the brightest and the sweetest part of our 
 apportioned time. 
 
 Lucy looked not older than her years, for 
 she was small and delicately formed ; but yet 
 there was the fulness of womanhood in every 
 line. Her face had not much colour, and yet 
 it was not pale, but the whole hue was warm 
 and healthy, and fairer than that of the 
 southern nations of Europe, though still evi- 
 dently the complexion of what is now called a 
 brunette. The brow, the nose, the lips, the 
 chin, were all beautifully cut ; though the model 
 was not Greek, for the forehead was wider and 
 higher, and there was a slight, a very slight 
 wave in the line between the brow and the nose. 
 The eyebrows were dark, small, and long. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 131 
 
 slightly depressed in the middle over the eye, 
 but by no means either arched or strongly de* 
 fined, according to the eastern notions of beauty, 
 but, on the contrary, shaded softly off, so as 
 only to show a definite line to beholders when at 
 a little distance. The eyes beneath them were 
 large and long, but with the deep black eye- 
 lashes, which she had derived from her mother, 
 shading them so completely, that the sparkling 
 of the dark iris was only clearly seen when she 
 looked up. 
 
 That, however, was often the case ; for in her 
 gay liveliness, when she had said some little 
 thing to tease or to surprise, she would still 
 raise the " fringed curtain" of her eye to mark 
 the effect it produced, and to have her smile 
 at anything like astonishment that appeared 
 upon the countenance of those who heard her. 
 
 The lip, too, was full of playfulness ; for, in- 
 deed, sorrow had but sat there once, and tears 
 were very unfrequent in those dark, bright eyes. 
 There had been people seen, perhaps, more 
 beautiful in mere feature, but few more beautiful 
 in expression, and certainly none ever more 
 captivating in grace of movement and in variety 
 
132 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 of countenance. Her dress was full of gay and 
 shining colours ; but yet so well assorted, so 
 harmonious in their contrast, that the effect 
 could not be called gaudy. 
 
 The same was not the case with her two 
 women, who, with the pleasant familiarity of 
 those times, were chattering lightly to their 
 mistress as they rode along, upon the ordinary 
 subject of women's thoughts in all ages — alas ! 
 I mean dress. There was, on the contrary, a 
 good deal of gaudiness about their apparel, and 
 their taste did not appear to be of the most 
 refined kind. 
 
 " Nay, dear lady," said one of them, " I would 
 have put on the robe of arms when I was going 
 to Nottingham to wait for my father. It does 
 look so magnificent, with the escutcheon of pre- 
 tence for Minorca just on your breast, the silver 
 field on one side, and the azure field on the 
 other, and the beautiful wyverns all in gold." 
 
 " I cannot bear it, silly girl," replied the lady ; 
 " to hear you talk about wearing the fields, one 
 would suppose that I was a piece of arable land; 
 and as to coats of arms, Judith, I like not this 
 new custom ; women have nothing to do with 
 
FOREST DAYS. 133 
 
 coats of arms. I put it on once to please my 
 brother, but I will never wear it again, so he 
 may cut the skirt off and use it himself next 
 time he goes to a tournament." 
 
 " Dear, now, lady, how you jest," replied the 
 girl ; " he could never get it on ; why, Lord 
 Alured's thigh is thicker than your waist ; and 
 I do declare I think it much handsomer than 
 that azure and gold you are so fond of. I would 
 not wear that, at all events." 
 
 " And pray, why not ?" demanded Lucy de 
 Ashby, with some surprise ; " they are the two 
 colours that divide the universe, girl, — azure the 
 coloiu: for heaven, gold the only colour for this 
 earth; so between the two I should have all 
 mankind on my side. Why would you not wear 
 them?" 
 
 " Because they are the colours of the Mon- 
 thcrmers," replied the girl ; " and they are old 
 enemies of your house." 
 
 " But they are friends now," rejoined Lucy, 
 into whose cheek, to say the truth, the blood 
 had come] up somewhat warmly. She ventured 
 to say nothing more for a minute or two, and 
 when ^.he did speak again, changed the subject. 
 
134 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 The conversation soon resumed its liveliness, 
 however; and thus they rode on, talking of 
 many things, and laughing gaily as they talked, 
 w^hile the yeomen who were behind amused 
 themselves in the same manner. 
 
 After about half a mile's ride, they approached 
 nearer to the banks of the little stream, which 
 being every here and there decorated with 
 bushes and tall trees that hung over the water, 
 was sometimes seen glancing through a meadow, 
 and then again lost amongst the thick foliage. 
 
 Just as they were entering a closer part of 
 the woodland, and leaving the stream on their 
 right, one of fhe yeoman exclaimed, "By 
 
 !" using an oath of too blasphemous a kind 
 
 to be even wTitten down in the present age, but 
 which in those days would have been uttered 
 in the court of the king, " By — there is 
 somebody netting the stream. Quick, Jacob, 
 quick ! come after them. You, Bill, go round 
 the wood, and catch them on the other side. 
 See, they're running that way — they're running 
 that way !" and setting spurs to their horses, the 
 whole of Lucy's male attendants, with the ex- 
 ception of the page, galloped off as fast as ever 
 
FOREST DAYS. 135 
 
 they could, shouting and whooping as if they 
 had been in pursuit of some beast of the chase. 
 
 Lucy de Ashby paused for a moment, and 
 called to the page, who was the last to leave 
 her, not to go ; but the spur had been already 
 given to his horse, and the boy became seized 
 with a sudden deafness which prevented him 
 from hearing a word that the lady uttered. 
 Lucy gazed after them with a thoughtful look 
 for an instant, then laughed, and said — " 'Tis a 
 droll fancy that men have to run after every- 
 thing that flies them." 
 
 " Ay, and dogs as well as men," added one 
 of the girls. 
 
 " And women as well as both," answered 
 Lucy. " I have more than three quarters of a 
 mind to go myself; but I will not, girls ; and 
 so, to be out of the way of temptation, we will 
 ride slowly on." 
 
 Thus saying, she shook her rein, and keeping 
 her horse to a walk, followed the road before 
 her into the thicker part of the wood, leaving her 
 truant attendants to come after as they might. 
 
 In about a quarter of an hour the first of 
 the men appeared at the spot where they had 
 
136 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 left her, but he was by no means in the same 
 plight as when he last stood there. His clothes 
 were dripping as well as his hair ; there were 
 the marks of severe blows on his face ; his smart 
 apparel was soiled and torn, and he was both 
 disarmed and on foot. In short, he looked very 
 much like a man who had been heartily beaten 
 and dragged through a horse-pond. A loud 
 hallo^ which reached his ear from the direction 
 of the stream, seemed to visit him with no very 
 pleasant sensations, for he darted in at once 
 amongst the bushes, and hid himself as well as 
 he could for a few minutes. At length, how- 
 ever, two of his comrades appeared ; but they 
 seemed to have fared not much better than 
 himself, for though they had preserved their 
 horses, both were in terrible disarray, and had 
 returned from the fray evidently with broken 
 heads. 
 
 "Where is Bill?" said one to the other as 
 they came up ; " I saw him running this way." 
 
 " Poor devil, he got it !" replied his comrade. 
 
 " And you got it, too, I think," cried the one 
 who had first appeared, now coming out from 
 amongst the bushes. " Why, I never saw or 
 
FOREST DAYS. 137 
 
 heard anything like that blow of the staff across 
 your shoulders, Jacob. You echoed like an 
 empty cask under a cooper's hammer." 
 
 "Ay, Bill," said the man to whom he spoke, 
 " and when the man bestowed upon you the 
 buffet in the eye, and knocked you down, what 
 a squelch was there ! Why, it was for all the 
 world as when the scullion, bringing in the 
 kitchen dinner, let the apple pudding fall, and 
 it burst itself upon the pavement." 
 
 " I will be even with him," said the man 
 called Bill; "but where 's the page and Walter?" 
 
 "They galloped off to the castle as hard 
 as they could," answered the third, " and your 
 horse along with them, so you must go back 
 too, and we must ride after the lady as fast 
 as we can go." 
 
 " Pretty figures you are to follow her into 
 Nottingham," rejoined Bill ; " and what will my 
 lord say when he finds that we four and the 
 page were beaten by five men on foot ?" 
 
 " There were more than five," replied the 
 other, " I am sure." 
 
 " I thought I saw some in the bushes," added 
 the third. 
 
138 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " Come, come," exclaimed Bill, " there were 
 only five. I was disabled by being knocked 
 into the river, otherwise I would have shewn 
 them a different affair." 
 
 " I dare say you'd have done wonders," an- 
 swered the other, with a sneer ; " but we must 
 get on, so you go back to the castle as fast as 
 you can." 
 
 " Pr'ythee see me beyond those trees," said 
 the yeoman on foot ; " if those fellows are hiding 
 there, they may murder me !" 
 
 " We have no time— we have no time !" re- 
 plied one of the horsemen — " Go along with 
 you ! If you hadn't been in the stream, you 
 would have thrashed them all ; so thrash them 
 now, good Bill :" and thus saying, the two rode 
 on, for certainly there is no human infirmity, 
 though it is a very contagious ond, which meets 
 with such little sympathy as fear. 
 
 Onward, then, they went at a quick pace, 
 hoping to catch up their young mistress be- 
 fore she reached Nottingham, but feeling a little 
 ashamed for having left her at all, and not a 
 little ashamed at the result of their expedition. 
 
 When they had gone about a couple of miles. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 139 
 
 however, without seeing anj^thing of Lucy do 
 Ashby, the one looked round to his comrade, 
 and said, " It is odd we haven't come up with 
 her — she must have ridden fast/' 
 
 " Oh, it is just hke her," repUed the other, 
 " she has galloped on just to tease us, and punish 
 us a little for having left her in the wood. I 
 would wager a besant that she does not draw a 
 rein till she gets to Nottingham. " 
 
 " Ay, but the best of it is," rejoined his com- 
 panion, " that we shall hear no more of it than 
 just, * Jacob, you should not have quitted me ; 
 you should have let the stream take care of 
 itself,' instead of twenty great blustering oaths, 
 such as Lord Alured would have given us. 
 Then it will be all fair weather again in a 
 minute." 
 
 " Ay, she is very kind !" said the other yeo- 
 man, " and when anything does go wrong, she 
 knows that one did not do it on purpose." 
 
 With such conversation, and with praises of 
 their sweet lady, which one may be sure were 
 well deserved, as no ear was there to hear, no 
 tongue to report them, the yeomen rode on; 
 but the one called Jacob did so, it must be 
 
140 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 confessed, uneasily. His eyes, as he went, 
 were bent down upon the ground, which in that 
 part was soft, searching for the traces of horses' 
 feet, but though he gazed eagerly, he could 
 perceive none, till, at length, they reached the 
 gates of Nottingham, and entering the city, pro- 
 ceeded at once to what was called the lodging 
 of the Lord Ashby. It was, in fact, a large, 
 though low-built house, shut from the street by 
 a court-yard and a high embattled wall. The 
 gates were open, and all the bustle and activity 
 were apparent about the doors, which attended 
 in those days the arrival of a large retinue. 
 There were servants hurrying hither and thither, 
 horse-boys and grooms slackening girths, and 
 taking off saddles, servers and pantlers unpack- 
 ing baskets and bags, and boys and beggars 
 looking on. 
 
 " What, is my lord arrived ?" cried one of the 
 men who had followed Lucy, springing from his 
 horse ; " we did not expect him till to-night, or 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 " He will be here in half an hour," replied the 
 horse-boy, to whom he addressed himself; " we 
 rode on before. '* 
 
FOREST DAYS. 141 
 
 " What tidings of my young lady ?" said a 
 server, walking up ; " we thought we should find 
 her here to meet the Earl." 
 
 "Is she not arrived?" cried the yeoman who had 
 remained on horseback, in a tone of dismay ; "she 
 came on before us — we fancied she was here !" 
 
 The one who had dismounted sprang into the 
 saddle again, exclaiming — " This is some infer- 
 nal plot !" 
 
 The story was soon told, and the whole 
 household of the Lord of Ashby, or at least such a 
 part of it as was then in Nottingham, was thrown 
 into a state of confusion indescribable. In the 
 midst of this, some ten or twelve men mounted 
 their horses, though every beast was tired with 
 a long day's journey, and set out to seek for 
 the fair lady who was missing, beating the forest 
 paths in every directions. But not the slightest 
 trace of her could they find ; and, after a two 
 hours' search, were coming home again, when, 
 having made a round on the Southwell side, 
 they met the party of the Earl himself, riding 
 slowly on towards Nottingham. 
 
 He was accompanied by only four or five at- 
 tendants, but had with him his son Alured and 
 
142 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Hugh dc Monthermer, the other Earl having 
 remained behind at Pontefract to settle some 
 business of importance there. It may be easily 
 conceived what indignation and surprise the 
 tidings, brought by the servants, spread amongst 
 the party they thus met. Lord Alured chafed 
 like an angry tiger, and the old lord vowed 
 every kind of vengeance. Hugh de Monther- 
 mer's lip quivered, but all he said was, " This 
 is horrible indeed, my lord, that your lord- 
 ship's daughter cannot ride from Lindwell to 
 Nottingham in safety ! What can we do ?" 
 
 « We !" cried Alured de Ashby. " Hugh of 
 Monthermer, you have little enough to do with 
 it, methinks ! What I shall do, will be to cut 
 off the ears of the scoundrels that left their 
 lady on any account, when they were following 
 her to Nottingham." 
 
 " My lord of Ashby," said Hugh de Mon- 
 thermer, addressing the Earl, " I merely used 
 the word we, because, as a gentleman, and your 
 friend, I take as deep an interest in the affair as 
 any one. I and my men are at your com- 
 mand to seek for this lady instantly; and we 
 will strive to do you as good service in the 
 
FOREST DAYS. 143 
 
 search as the best of your own people, if you 
 will permit us." 
 
 " Certainly — certainly, my good lord !" re- 
 plied the Earl — " Alured, ^^ou are rash and in- 
 temperate. — Three hours ago, they say, this 
 happened. Should they have taken to the 
 forest, they cannot have gone very far, if they 
 have followed the horse-paths; and were one 
 of us to go back to the second road to the left, 
 where there stands a meer,* he must, by beat- 
 ing up those lanes, either come upon the party 
 themselves or find the horses, if they have 
 turned them loose, and taken to the footways." 
 
 " They have not gone into the forest," cried 
 Alured de Ashby ; " depend upon it, these 
 are some of the king's people, or the bishop's. 
 Better far let us scour the more open country, 
 along the banks of Trent. You will soon hear 
 at the bridges w^hether such persons have passed 
 that way." 
 
 " Stand out, Jacob," said the Earl ; " you were 
 one of the fools that were misled. What like 
 were these men who lured you from your lady?" 
 
 * One of the posts, or marks, by which the limits of the 
 forest were distinguished. 
 
144 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " I think they were men at arms disguised," 
 answered the servant, in a sorrowful and timid 
 tone ; " for so well practised were they at their 
 weapons, that they beat us all in the twinkling of 
 an eye ; besides, when I struck one of them, I 
 heard something clatter underneath, like armour. 
 The net, too, did not look like a real net." 
 
 " It is very clear, the whole was a trick," said 
 the Earl. ^^ I doubt not you are right, Alured, 
 but still we had better spread out, and scour the 
 whole country across. You, with part of the 
 men, take the banks of the Trent — I, with others, 
 will skirt the borders of the forest from Notting- 
 ham to Lindwell — and our young friend here, 
 with his own two servants and two of ours, will, 
 perhaps, examine the forest itself from the 
 second turning on the road to Southwell, as 
 far as he may judge it likely, from the time 
 which has elapsed, that these gentry could have 
 advanced. I will send people to meet him 
 when I reach Lindwell, who will tell him what 
 success we have had, and give him aid and 
 assistance.'' 
 
 Alured de Ashby seemed not over well 
 pleased at the arrangement, for his brows still 
 
FOREST DAYS. 145 
 
 continued heavy, his cheek flushed, and his 
 proud lip quivering ; but he made no objection, 
 and after a few words more, the party separated 
 upon the different tracks they proposed to fol- 
 low, having still three or four hours of daylight 
 before them. 
 
 Alured rode on, with his fiery temper chafing 
 at the insult which had been offered to his family, 
 and but the more irritable and impatient because 
 he had no one on whom to vent his anger. 
 
 His father pursued his course more slowly, 
 and with very different thoughts. Wrath in the 
 bosom of the son swallowed up every sensation ; 
 but the loss of a child, which he had treated but 
 lightly in the case of the innkeeper, now filled 
 the Earl's breast with deep anxiety and appre- 
 hension, though certainly poor Greenly had 
 more cause for agonizing fear and sorrow than 
 the proud noble. 
 
 It is a curious fact, however, and one which 
 gives a strange indication of the lawless state of 
 the times, that no one imagined the absence of 
 Lucy de Ashby could proceed from any ordinary 
 accident. 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
14G FOREST DAYS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The sun had declined about two hours and a 
 half from the meridian, but the day was still 
 warm and bright. The month of May, in the 
 olden time, indeed, was a warmer friend than at 
 present, if we may believe the ancient tales and 
 chronicles ; and, in good sooth, the seasons of 
 the year seem to have changed altogether, and 
 the weather to have become chilly, whimsical, 
 and crotchetty, as the world has grown older. 
 There are no vineyards to be found now in 
 Northumberland, and yet many a place in the 
 northern counties retains the name to the present 
 day, evidently showing to what purposes they 
 were formerly applied. It is rarely now in Eng- 
 land, too, that we have any title to call it the 
 
FOREST DAYS. 147 
 
 merry, merry month of May, for, very often, 
 cold and piercing are the winds, sad the sleet 
 and rain ; and, for one of the bright and glo- 
 rious days of summer, we have a multitude of 
 the dark and shadowy ones of winter. Per- 
 haps one cause of this change may be that 
 which has brought about many another evil in 
 the land, — namely, the cutting down of those 
 magnificent old forests which sheltered the 
 breast of England like a garment, and stop- 
 ped the fierce winds in their career over the 
 island. Indeed we know that the destruction 
 of the woods in other countries has produced 
 such effects ; and there is every reason to be- 
 lieve that here also the climate has greatly 
 suffered, though other benefits may have been 
 obtained. 
 
 However that may be, the month of May at 
 that time in England was indeed a merry month, 
 replete with sunshine, bountiful in flowers, with 
 every bird in song, and every tree in leaf, and 
 the whole world full of the warmth and the 
 tenderness of youth. It is true, indeed, that in 
 the early part of the month, April would still 
 H 2 
 
148 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 look in with a tear in her eye to bid the earth 
 good bye ; and such had been the case on the 
 morning of the fourth of May, in the year of 
 which we have lately been speaking. About 
 nine o'clock, two or three showers had swept 
 past, though the blue eye of heaven had seldom 
 been altogether withdrawn, but looked through 
 the rain as through a veil, and every now and 
 then the sun peeped out, even while the drops 
 were coming down, and flung a rainbow over 
 the bosom of the forest. The clouds, however, 
 cleared off entirely before noon, and left the 
 world but the fresher for the sprinkling, the 
 woods looking more green, and the flowers more 
 bright and full of perfume. 
 
 The road from Sheffield — not the high road 
 — running through Bloodsworth, and leaving 
 Nurstead a little to the right, at the distance of 
 about a mile past the former place, entered the 
 extensive woody ground, w^hich had ceased for 
 a space in the neighbourhood of Mansfield, but 
 which at that time covered the whole of the 
 rest of the country. A little farther on again, 
 the scene changed to one of those small, open 
 
FOREST DAYS. 149 
 
 greens, common in the forest, where two or 
 three acres of grassy turf appeared free from 
 trees, but surrounded on all sides by the wood. 
 Fine old oaks and beeches stood forward here 
 and there, stretching out their long and rugged 
 arms, covered with the soft hue of spring, and 
 leaving the line of the little savannah wild and 
 irregular, while a break amongst the trees on 
 the right showed the sunshine streaming into 
 another opening of the same kind, and gave the 
 imagination room to sport through other groves 
 and dells beyond. 
 
 In the midst of this green, with his arms 
 crossed upon his chest, his eyes bent on the 
 ground, and his brow somewhat gloomy, walked 
 Robert of the Lees by Ely, as he had called him- 
 self, while not far off, under the shadow of a 
 wide-spreading oak, stood a boy, holding a white 
 horse and a bow\ Robin seemed to be whiling 
 away a time of waiting, in communing with 
 himself of many things, with that sort of desul- 
 tory meditation which woodlands gender more 
 than any other scenes ; and, ever and anon, his 
 lips proved faithless guardians to his thoughts. 
 
150 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 muttering a word or two of what was passing in 
 his mind, without his knowing that they did so. 
 " Ha ! Left Nottingham so soon with her 
 paramour !" he said. " That was hasty !" and 
 again he was silent for a spaee. " They must 
 have heard that I had taken the chase in hand, 
 or else the Earl has followed them closer than 
 they expected. — How this poor youth suffers ! 
 One would think that he had lost the most 
 precious thing on earth, instead of a light-o'-love 
 May-day flirt ! — And after all, perhaps, he has 
 lost the most precious thing on earth, for he has 
 lost trust — confidence. That can never come 
 again when once it is gone. — Besides, a woman 
 is to us what we esteem her more than what 
 she is. He held her to be all that is good, and 
 so in losing her he loses all that is good. — They 
 are idle things, these women ; and yet there is 
 good as well as bad in them. So goes the old 
 song — 
 
 " To whom does woman's love belong ? 
 And who shall hold that fickle thing ? 
 No iron chain was e'er so strong, 
 As long to bind its fluttering wing. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 151 
 
 '* Caught by the ear — caught by the eye — 
 The handsome face, the flattering tongue, 
 The pleasant smile, the well-told lie. 
 May win it, but not hold it long. 
 
 " The king has no command o'er love, 
 
 The peasant's sweetheart jilts the swain ; 
 And those who stay, and those who rove. 
 Seek bonds for woman's heart in vain, 
 
 " Rank, wealth, prosperity, and power, 
 Have all been tried, without avail ; 
 Yet ne'er in dark misfortune's hour. 
 Has woman's love been known to fail." 
 
 So sung, or rather hummed, the bold forester, 
 as he walked to and fro along the sandy path ; 
 and, as is very often the case, the song seemed 
 the most convincing argument he could use, for 
 it concluded the discussion with himself con- 
 cerning young Harland, and he turned his 
 thoughts to other things again. 
 
 "They will take him by surprise," he muttered 
 to himself in the same low tone as before ; and 
 then having uttered this vaticination, he relapsed 
 into silence, took another turn, and said — " The 
 King at Cambridge ? — That cannot be for 
 nothing: he has misled DeMontfort — Gloucester 
 fortifying his castles too — that looks ill ! He is 
 
152 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 not to be trusted, Gloucester. He never was — 
 he never will be. — Hark ! a horse's feet ! Here 
 come the Earls!" 
 
 Another moment, however, showed him that 
 he was mistaken, for the horse whose tramp he 
 heard came from the side of Nottingham, and 
 not from that of Yorkshire. The animal itself 
 Vv^as a good brown gelding, with a short tail, 
 which, in those days, was a rarity, for many of 
 the barbarous customs of the present time were 
 then unknown. Indeed, though it may seem a 
 contradiction in terms, civilization in general 
 has not a little barbarism in it, and luxury is 
 always sure to introduce practices of which 
 savages would be ashamed. The horse, how- 
 ever, as I have said, was a good brown gelding 
 with a short tail ; the man that bestrode it, a 
 jolly, large-stomached personage, in the garb of 
 a tradesman ; and the moment the forester saw 
 him, he exclaimed, " Ha ! our good friend the 
 sutler of Southwell ! What makes you ride the 
 forest, Barnaby? You do not trouble Sher- 
 wood for nothing." 
 
 " Seeking you, Robin — seeking you," replied 
 the sutler. " One that you know of gave me 
 
FOREST DAYS. 153 
 
 this for you. It was to pass through no hands 
 but mine and yours. But look yc ! look ye ! 
 Here comes a goodly train. Now will there be 
 rough work anon between the silken hoods and 
 the men in Lincoln green. I'll away, Robin — 
 I'll away, for I love no blows but those of the 
 rolling pin !" 
 
 The man to w^hom he spoke took no notice 
 either of his words or hi? departure, so intent 
 was he upon the contents of the letter which 
 had just been put into his hand. He read it 
 over twice after the messenger w^as gone, and 
 seemed scarcely to remark the approach of a 
 large party on horseback, comprising, as the 
 reader may have divined by this time, the very 
 personages for whom he was waiting. When he 
 raised his eyes, however, he beheld advancing to- 
 wards him, at a slow pace, some twenty mounted 
 men, well armed", and headed by the old Earl 
 of Monthermer. That nobleman, however, was 
 unaccompanied by one of those whom our friend 
 in the Lincoln green was the most anxious to 
 see, the Earl of Ashby being, as the reader is 
 well aware, on the other side of Nottingham* 
 II 3 
 
154 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 The party of old Moiithermer, as he was 
 called, consisted of himself and his servants 
 alone, having sent away all the other noblemen 
 and gentlemen who had met him in Yorkshire, 
 to find their way, in separate bodies to join 
 their friends in London. His nephew, too, for 
 reasons that the old lord saw and well ap- 
 proved, had gone on with the Earl of Ashby ; 
 and the only addition to his train since we last 
 saw him, was a stout old priest, his chaplain, 
 who had been previously dispatched on a mis- 
 sion to Northumberland. 
 
 At a distance of about twenty yards from 
 the spot where the bold forester stood, the Earl 
 pulled up his horse and dismounted slowly, 
 giving the word to halt. He then advanced 
 directly towards him, holding out his hand, 
 which tho other took with an air of respect and 
 deference, but without the least approach to 
 fawning. 
 
 *' Welcome to Sherwood, my good lord," said 
 Robert of the Lees. *^ But why come you 
 alone ? Would not the no^le Earl of Ashby 
 trust himself amidst these shades ?" 
 
FOREST DAYS. 155 
 
 " He had left me, Robin," replied the Earl, 
 " before I got your message, with his son 
 Alured and my nephew Hugh. He set out for 
 Nottingham yesterday, just after morning song." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed the forester, his brow grow- 
 ing dark. ^^ 'Tis strange I heard not of it. 
 Gone to Nottingham, just after morning song ? 
 He might have been there by noon ; and yet he 
 was not." 
 
 " No, no," answered the Earl, " he could 
 not arrive by noon. He had matters of some 
 moment to see to by the way. But were 
 you so anxious to have some speech with 
 
 him r 
 
 " I was," answered the forester, abruptly. " I 
 was. — But it matters not — I will send him a 
 message ; and now, my lord, will you mount 
 your horse again, and come with me ? I have 
 much to say to you, and many things to tell, 
 some of which you know, perhaps, already, but 
 some of which you have never heard." 
 
 " I can but stay an hour," replied the Earl; 
 " for I must forward to Nottingham to supper, 
 and that will be a late one, even now*" 
 
156 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " We have supper ready for you, my good 
 lord," answered the forester ; " and you, at least, 
 need not fear to ride through Sherwood in the 
 eventide." 
 
 " No feasting on the King's venison, Robin !" 
 cried the Earl, with a laugh ; " but still our 
 meal must be short, for I have business to do 
 to-night of more importance than my supper. 
 Shall I bid the men come on with me, or to 
 stay here till I return ?" 
 
 " Let them follow — let them follow," said the 
 forester ; " but keep them out of earshot — the 
 priest especially. IIo, boy I bring up my horse." 
 
 More at a sign by which he accompanied the 
 call than at the words themselves, the boy, whom 
 we have mentioned as holding a white horse 
 under one of the trees, ran up with the animal 
 in hand, AAhile the Earl gave directions to his 
 men to follow him slowly, keeping at the distance 
 of some fifty ^^ards. He then remounted, with 
 his forest friend, who led him on still upon the 
 open road, saying — " You shall have as htde of 
 the woodland as possible, and every step you 
 take is so much on your way to Nottingham." 
 
FOREST. PAYS. 157 
 
 " That is well," replied the Earl ; " but now 
 tell me, Robin, how many of 3'om' old friends 
 have you gathered round you here, in case of 
 need?" 
 
 " Not more than a hundred," answered his 
 companion, " with some forty in Barnsdale." 
 
 " Sadly few !" said the Earl, musing. 
 
 " Many a stout soldier and many a true 
 friend," replied the forester, ** love not to live 
 the life and share the perils of an outlaw." 
 
 " There is a reproach in that," said the Earl ; 
 " but I pledge you my knightly word, Robin, 
 that I did my best to have the outlawry reversed 
 whenever we got the power into our own hands, 
 but it was Gloucester opposed it, and the Earl 
 of Leicester judged it dangerous to thwart him." 
 
 " You mistake, my lord," rejoined the forester, 
 " and w^ould have done me but little semce had 
 you succeeded, though I thank you for the 
 wish. The enmity of my lord of Gloucester 
 stood me in good stead. These are riddles, my 
 good lord, but they are easil}^ read. Hark to 
 another, not much more difficult. My hundred 
 men arc not few, but many ; for each man, be- 
 sides a sheaf of arrows, has a sheaf of friends. 
 
158 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 and about the same number of each. We shall 
 not count much less than two thousand, noble 
 sir, in the day of need, and that day is coming 
 faster than you imagine." 
 
 " There are clouds in the sky, certainly," re- 
 plied the Earl. 
 
 *'They overshadow the sun," rejoined the 
 outlaw, abruptly. " The news I had to tell you, 
 but an hour ago, was merely that the King had 
 contrived to lead my lord of Leicester away 
 from his resources, and that Gloucester is forti- 
 fying himself in the marches of Wales — that he 
 has refused to be present at the tournament of 
 Northampton, and that people flock to him who 
 are known to be favourers of the foreigners.'' 
 
 " I have heard something of this," said the 
 Earl, " but knew not that it had gone so far." 
 
 "Farther — farther, my lord," replied the 
 other — ^* farther a great deal I I have more 
 tidings for you now. Gloucester is proclaimed 
 a traitor, Leicester has fallen back upon the 
 Severn, and I fear me that means have been 
 taken to amuse the good Earl's son in that busi- 
 ness of Pevensey. Look at that letter, my lord." 
 
 " Ay ! this bears the likeness of war, indeed," 
 
FOREST DAYS. 159 
 
 replied the Earl, after reading a paper which 
 his companion gave to him — "this bears the 
 likeness of war, indeed ; and I am glad it has 
 come to this. Gloucester is a loss to the good 
 cause, it is true, though he is cold and cau- 
 tious " 
 
 " And selfish, and treacherous, and cunning," 
 added the outlaw. 
 
 " But still there is little to fear," continued 
 the Earl : " he is no more competent to cope 
 with Simon de Montfort, than an usher's white 
 rod with a soldier's battle-axe." 
 
 " He wants the energy of a strong will," said 
 the outlaw, " and therefore can never be a great 
 man; but still his influence makes him dan- 
 gerous, my lord, and you must look to it." 
 
 <« We wdll not despise him," replied the Earl ; 
 " but stiU I fear him not. So long as the Prince 
 is in the hands of De Montfort, the freedom of 
 England is secure. He is the power of the 
 royal party, but we have taken care that he 
 shall have no means of acting — nominally free, 
 but watched, day and night — his ser\^ants, his 
 keepers — ^his companions, his gaolers. I could 
 grieve for the noble Prince, I must confess. 
 
160 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 were it not that the safely of the whole realm, 
 the freedom of every man within it, and the 
 happiness of every English hearth, demand that 
 he should be prevented by any means from 
 giving strength to his father's weakness by his 
 own powerful mind." 
 
 " I grieve for him, too," replied the outlaw. 
 " I once, at York, saw an eagle in a cage, my 
 lord ; and though it looked at me fiercely, as if 
 it would have torn me for my pains, I broke the 
 bars, and let the noble bird go free." 
 
 " We must not do that here," replied the Earl. 
 
 " I fear not," answered his companion. " Ne- 
 vertheless, I grieve for the Prince with all my 
 heart; and would he but swear and keep his 
 oath, which princes seldom do, I would be the 
 first to give him his liberty, upon a promise to 
 respect ours."^ 
 
 " We have tried that, good Robin," replied 
 the Earl, " and we must do so no more. The 
 wisest man that ever lived, said, ' Put not your 
 faith in princes ;* and this young leopard must, 
 I fear, be kept in a chain, however sad it be to 
 fetter noble energies like his." 
 
 " Make the chain strong enough, then, my 
 
lOREST DAYS. 161 
 
 lord," said the outlaw ; " for if he breaks it, he 
 will be more fierce than ever." 
 
 " Forged by Simon de Montfort, it will be 
 strong enough," answered the Earl ; " but let us 
 think of farther proceedings. So, Gloucester 
 is proclaimed a traitor ?" 
 
 " Ay, and Mortimer, too," replied the fores- 
 ter, "and a number of others. Many of the 
 lords marchers have joined him, you see, and 
 his power is dail}'- increasing." 
 
 "Then it is time," said the Earl, "for the 
 friends of England to gather round De Mont- 
 fort. A battle cannot be far distant. Doubt- 
 less there will be letters for me at Nottingham, 
 and I will soon let you know where you can 
 meet us with your brave archers. Gloucester's 
 day is over, and " 
 
 " I know what you would add, my lord," re« 
 plied the forester, " but I say. No. This outlawry 
 sits more easily on my shoulders than you can 
 think. Heaven forbid that you should ever 
 have to try our life ; but, were such the case, 
 you would soon grow fond of it. There is a 
 charm in these wild woods, and in our free ex- 
 
162 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 istence amongst them, which leaves the parade of 
 the city or the castle sadly tasteless in the com- 
 parison. No, my lord, I am well as I am, for 
 the present. No man can call me traitor ; for 
 kings and princes have cast off my allegiance, 
 and I have cast off their rule. Perhaps when 
 happier days come back — when England*s 
 wounds are healed — when justice and honour 
 hold the sway, and peace and liberty go hand 
 in hand, I may reclaim my rights, my lord, and 
 ask your voice to testify that the Outlaw of 
 Sherwood was as just in his dealings, as true to 
 his country, and as fearless in her defence as 
 any judge in his court, or statesman in the hall, 
 or knight in the saddle. But till then — good 
 faith," he added, in a gayer tone, "1 live a 
 merry life of it here, and am troubled with no 
 remorse for the deeds I do under the green 
 leaf of the wood. However, enough of myself, 
 and as for your letters, you will find none at 
 Nottingham. The'sheriff is no friend of Simon 
 de Montfort, and that the Earl of Leicester 
 knows by this time. I would wager, my lord, 
 a pipe of Malvoisie to a flitch of bacon, that if 
 
FOREST x)A\^u 163 
 
 you go on to Nottingham, you will be a tarrier 
 in the castle for longer than you reckon." 
 
 " If so," replied Monthermer, " the Earl of 
 Ashby is a prisoner there by this time." 
 
 " Not so, my lord," said the outlaw, drily ; 
 "the Earl of Ashby has had other things to 
 do." 
 
 " Why, I thought that but now," exclaimed 
 the Earl, " you did not know where our good 
 friend was ?" 
 
 "True," answered his companion, "but I 
 know what waited him at Nottingham, if he 
 arrived there yesterday. — Besides, my good lord, 
 he has a friend at court. Richard de Ashby 
 passed through Nottingham before him, was 
 with the sheriff in close consultation for an 
 hour, and doubtless set forth duly, * how good a 
 subject the Earl is to the King, and how humble 
 a servant to the Earl of Gloucester.' — Take care, 
 my lord, that you are not betrayed, as well as 
 deceived. There is a viper under your hand; 
 and it may sting you." 
 
 '* No — no — no!" said the old nobleman, shak- 
 ing his head. " The Ashbys are incapable of 
 
164 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 treachery : proud and irascible they both are, 
 father and son ; but even in their pride there is 
 no dishonour, though " 
 
 " Though pride be the most dishonest of all 
 our knave passions," interrupted the outlaw, " ay, 
 and the meanest, too ! But I believe you, my good 
 lord, they v^^ill not betray you, either father or 
 son, but they will betray themselves ; and their 
 roguish kinsman will betray you and them and 
 every one. You judge, perhaps, that he came 
 down but upon the lewd errand of carrying off 
 a peasant girl, but his business in Barnsdale 
 was of a darker character than that. Prisoner 
 as the King now is, and watched as the Prince 
 now seems, they have agents over all the land." 
 
 " But can you be sure," said the Earl — " can 
 you prove that this Richard de Ashby is one of 
 them ? Base, I have always believed him to 
 be ; and I recollect that while the feud existed 
 between our two families, he did all in his 
 power to keep it alive, and prevent the breach 
 from ever being healed — pandering, like all 
 mean sycophants, to the fiercer passions of their 
 lords; but I ever judged him a petty scoundrel, fit 
 
FOREST DAYS. 165 
 
 only to cheat at cross and pile, or accomplish 
 the ruin of a milkmaid. I think not, Robin, 
 that he has courage to deal with much greater 
 things. Have you any proof of his treachery in 
 this business ?" 
 
 "Something I know, my lord," replied the 
 outlaw, "and much more do I suspect — let 
 them take my counsel who like it. What will 
 you have? He was first with Mortimer, and 
 then with Gloucester ; and then, making a 
 circuit round, to seem as if he came from the 
 side of Norfolk, he visited Leicester at North- 
 ampton, and spent two days there, seeing the 
 King thrice, and the Prince as often. Thence 
 he went back to London, was purveyed with a 
 spy, one Richard Keen, a servant of the King's 
 who fled from Lewes ; and thus accompanied, 
 he followed you to Pontefract." 
 
 " I will tax him with it in his kinsman's 
 presence," said Monthermer, " The good Lord 
 of Ashby wants not sense and discrimination. 
 He was eager for the business to be inquired 
 into before, but the man's flight with the light- 
 o'-love girl of the inn broke off the investiga- 
 
166 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 tion. Think you his, master has really any share 
 in that bad business ? I left the poor man, her 
 father, nearly broken-hearted." 
 
 ^* Share !'* exclaimed the forester; "somewhat 
 more than a share. She is now his leman at 
 Huntingdon. I had tidings this morning, and 
 they are now tasting together the fiery drop of 
 joy which floats upon the deep draughts of bit- 
 terness in the cup of vice. A few weeks will cloy 
 him, and then her sorrows will begin ; but if I 
 lay my hands upon him, so help me the Blessed 
 Virgin ! as I will nail his ears to the door-posts 
 of good John Greenly's house, and scourge him 
 with bowstrings from Wakefield to Pontefract. 
 But, to speak of what is more important, my 
 lord — do you think the rogue filched any of 
 your secrets ?" 
 
 "No," replied the Earl — "no, many of the 
 people did not come ; Hugh Bigod, too, was 
 away ; and, as is often the case with long-con- 
 certed meetings, to settle matters of great mo- 
 ment, w^e waited for each other, and, in the end, 
 the whole thing went to empty air. I could not 
 but think, however, that he strove hard to re- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 167 
 
 new the breach between the house of Ashby and 
 ourselves. With the father he did not succeed, 
 but with the son he seemed to make some pro- 
 gress; so much so, indeed, that I was well 
 pleased when this Sir Richard told us his pur- 
 pose of going on before to London. After he 
 was gone, Alured grew somewhat placable ; and 
 when we parted company, Hugh went with the 
 . two lords, trying to soothe and gain the younger 
 one. — But here, Robin, what have we here? 
 Why you have made the forest as gay as a May- 
 day bride !" 
 
168 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The words of the old Earl gave a good idea of 
 the picture which was presented to his eyes. It 
 was indeed like a May-day pageant, or like one 
 of those scenes which we now-a-days see upon 
 the stage, but which are but feeble representa- 
 tions of those that in former times were con- 
 stantly acted in reality. Though, it is true, we 
 form exaggerated images of many things that we 
 do not behold, imagination presents but a very 
 faint idea of the splendour and decoration of 
 those ages when sumptuary laws were enacted 
 in various countries to prevent peasants from 
 displaying gold and silver embroidery in their 
 garments. What may be called representation 
 
FOREST DAYC. 109 
 
 was a part of that epoch. It was in every palace, 
 and in every castle, at the table of the grave 
 citizen, with his gold chain, in the arm-chair of 
 the justice, in the hall of the franklin. It sat 
 upon the forked beard of Chaucer's merchant, 
 it appeared in the party-coloured garments of 
 the gallant of the court. In short, a great part 
 of everything in that day was effect : it was one 
 of the great objects of the age, and all classes of 
 people had an eye for it. Perhaps in all things, 
 as in their great buildings, their taste was better 
 than our own — in very few points it could 
 be worse ; and in consulting what is bright and 
 pleasing to the eye, what is exciting and daz- 
 zling to the imagination, they followed where 
 nature led — nature who delicchts in strikinp- 
 contrasts, as much as in gentle harmonies. 
 
 If, indeed, we can form a very faint idea of the 
 splendour of the court and the castle, our con- 
 ception is still more inadequate of the picturesque 
 decoration of humbler scenes in those days. We 
 are apt to conceive that it was all rude, or gross ; 
 and we scarcely believe in the charms of the 
 merry morrice dance, in the graces and attrac- 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
170 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 tions that sported round the May-pole, in the 
 moonlight meetings which Old Fitzstephen re- 
 cords, or in any of the sweeter and more gentle 
 pleasures and pastimes of the peasantry of Old 
 England ; and yet all these things were true, all 
 were enacted by living beings like ourselves 
 upon every village green throughout the land, 
 long before a feeble mockery of them crept into 
 a close and stifling playhouse. 
 
 Stronger passions — or perhaps the same pas- 
 sions but less under control than in the present 
 day — took their part therein, from time to time, 
 and prompted to all those wild energies which 
 spring from deep and highly-excited feelings. 
 Graces free and uncultivated were there likewise, 
 and the honest outpourings of the heart, sub- 
 jected to no dull sneer from the lips of false re- 
 finement, burst forth with the touching force 
 of simplicity and truth. The universal weak- 
 nesses of our nature mingled with all the 
 rest, and varied the drama through a thousand 
 parts. Vanity, and self-love, and pride, and 
 envy, had their share in the gathering of spring 
 flowers, in the weaving of the garland, in the 
 decoration of the tent, in the choice of the May 
 
FOllEST DAYS. 171 
 
 queen, and in the dance upon the sward ; but 
 to say sooth, they gave a pungency and a bright- 
 ness, and a human interest to the whole. 
 
 I beseech thee, then, dear reader, carry thy 
 mind back to the times of which I write, and 
 recollect that such scenes as that which met the 
 eye of the old Lord Monthcrmer, were every- 
 day realities, and not any part of a cold fable. 
 
 Whether planted by accident or design I 
 know not, but at the side of one of the little 
 savannahs I have described, where the grass was 
 short and dry, six old oaks came forward from 
 the rest of the wood, three on either hand, at 
 the distance of about forty feet apart, forming a 
 sort of natural avenue. Their long branches 
 stretched across and nearly met each other, 
 and under this natural canopy w^as spread out 
 the long table, prepared for the good Earl's 
 repast ; while, from bough to bough above, 
 crossing each other in various graceful sweeps, 
 were innumerable garlands, forming a sort of 
 net-work of forest flowers. The board, too — 
 let not the reader suppose that it was rude 
 
 and bare, for it was covered with as fine linen 
 I 2 
 
172 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 as ever came from the looms of Ireland or 
 Saxony.* The board had a nosegay laid where 
 every man was expected to sit, and the ground 
 beneath was strewed with rushes and green 
 leaves to make a soft resting-place for the feet. 
 Under the trees were gathered together various 
 groups of stout archers in their peculiar garb, 
 with many a country girl from the neighbouring 
 villages, all in holiday apparel. A number of 
 young countrymen, too, were present, showing 
 that the rovers of the forest were at no great 
 pains to conceal their place of meeting; for 
 tlieir lawless trade found favour in the sight of 
 the many ; and their security depended as much 
 upon the confidence and goodwill of the lower 
 orders, as upon the dissensions and disunion of 
 the higher classes. 
 
 The first sight of the Earl and the outlaw 
 caused not a little bustle amongst the com- 
 panions of the latter. There was running here 
 and there, and putting things in array ; and it 
 
 * I need not refer the learned reader to the curious in- 
 vestigations of M. le Grand ; and per])aps for the less 
 inquisitive it may be enough to say, that such was lilerally 
 the fact. 
 
FOrtEST DAYS. 173 
 
 was very evident that, although expected and 
 prepared for, everything was not quite ready 
 when the Earl arrived. 
 
 " Give him good morrow — give the noble Earl 
 good morrow!" cried the forester, putting his 
 horn to his lips and waving his hand for a signal. 
 
 Every man followed his example, and in a 
 moment the whole glades of the forest rang 
 w4th the sounds of the merry horn. Not a note 
 was out of tune, no two were inharmonious, 
 and, as with a long swell and fall, the mellow 
 tones rose and died away, the effect in that 
 wdld yet beautiful scene was not a little striking 
 and pleasant to the ear. 
 
 " Yeomanly ! yeomanly ! right yeomanly 
 done !" cried Robin Hood. " This is the way, 
 my lord, that we receive a true friend to the 
 EngUsh Commons and the good old Saxon blood. 
 Will you please to dismount, and taste our cheer ? 
 If yonder cooks have not done their duty, and 
 got all ready, I will fi-y them in their own 
 grease, though I guess from yon blazing log that 
 they are somewhat behindhand." 
 
 As he spoke, he fixed his eyes upon a spot, to 
 which those of the Earl followed them, where a 
 
174 FOHE6T DAYS. 
 
 scene not quite harmonious with the poetry of 
 the rest of the arrangement was going on, but 
 one very satisfactory to the hungry stomachs of 
 the Earl's retainers. An immense pile of blazing 
 wood, fit to have roasted Hercules himself, was 
 crackling^and hissing and roaring so close to a 
 distant angle of the wood, that the flames 
 scorched the green leaves on the farther side. 
 Beside it were some five men, in clean white 
 jackets, running hastity about, and basting sun- 
 dry things of a very savoury odour, which by 
 the contrivance of small chains and twisted 
 strings, were made to revolve before the fire. 
 Each man was glad enough to keep to windward 
 of the blaze ; and, even then, full many a time 
 were they forced to run to a distance for cool 
 air and free breath, for the heat was too intense 
 for any one to endure it long without suffering 
 the fate of the immense masses of meat which 
 were turning before it. 
 
 About fifty yards from this burning moun- 
 tain was a lesser volcano, from which, upon 
 the primitive tripod of three long poles, hung 
 sundry pots of vast dimensions, emitting steams 
 very grateful to the nose ; while, in a cool spot 
 
FOREST DAYS. 175 
 
 under the trees, appeared the no less pleasant 
 sight of two large barrels, one twined round 
 with a garland of young vine-leaves, and the 
 other with a wTeath of oak. A host of drinking 
 cups, fit to serve an army, lay near them, and a 
 man with a mallet was busily engaged in driving 
 a spigot and faucet to give discreet vent to the 
 liquor within. 
 
 '^ Ho ! where is Little John ?" cried Robin 
 Hood — " a small friend of mine, my lord, whom 
 you must know. What ! Naylor ! the master 
 of our revels — where is he ? By my life, he is 
 basting the cooks for not basting the capons! 
 Hallo ! friend John ! — You will easily see, my 
 lord, how he desei-ves his title." 
 
 As he spoke, a yeoman, some six feet four in 
 height, with shoulders that seemed as fit to 
 carry the bull as the calf, a round head covered 
 with nut-brown hair, and a face running over 
 with fun and jest, came near and shook the 
 Earl's proffered hand. 
 
 " We have met before, I believe, Little John," 
 said the Earl, " and I think in as warm a feast- 
 day as this !" 
 
 ** Warmer, my lord, by a bucket full," replied 
 
176 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Naylor. '* One of those feasts where one is as 
 likely to be carved as carve/' 
 
 " I recollect your face well," said the Earl. 
 
 " John of Andelys would recollect it better, 
 my lord^ if he could recollect anything, poor 
 fellow," answered the yeoman. " When last he 
 and I and you met together, he had got you by 
 the throat, with his dagger through your avan- 
 taille, I just tapped him on the head, to re- 
 mind him not to do such things ; and whether 
 he went away «r not I don't know, but if he did, 
 he certainly did not carry his brains with him." 
 
 " Ay, you did me good service there," replied 
 the Earl — " I should have lost an eye, at least. 
 There's a jewel, my good friend," he continued, 
 taking a ring from his finger — " I won it with 
 hard strokes myself, near Tripoli, and I give it 
 to you for as good a blow as ever was struck by 
 an English yeoman." 
 
 " I'll set it in my cap, my lord," replied Little 
 John, "and, perhaps, some day " 
 
 " Nay, now, no boasting, John !" cried Robin 
 Hood, " but let the Earl sit down to meat. It 
 is the season, my good lord, when one strikes 
 neither hart nor hare, when the partridge is free 
 
FOREST DAY?. 177 
 
 for her brood, and even the wild bustard runs 
 unscathed. Thus, my good lord, I cannot give 
 you forest cheer ; otherwise, so help me Heaven 1 
 as you should dine at the King's expense, while his 
 majesty be revelling with my Lord of Leicester. 
 However, not being able to treat you as a yeo- 
 man, I will feast you as a baron ; and if those 
 good cooks do but their duty, no castle hall in 
 all merry England shall show a better supper 
 than yours this day." 
 
 " I doubt it not, good Robin — I doubt it not !" 
 replied the Earl, with a good-humoured laugh; 
 " you are Lord of Sherwood, and may hold your 
 court of free-baron when you like. On my 
 life ! you have a peacock," he continued, as a 
 long train of men began to approach, bearing 
 large wooden trenchers loaded with viands — 
 " and the noble baron of beef too !" 
 
 " True, my lord — true !" replied Robin, " I 
 coidd not feast an carl, you know, without 
 giving him a young peacock with his tail spread, 
 nor receive your merry men honourably without 
 a double sirloin from the best ox in the country. 
 The beefs my own," he continued, ^^for I bought 
 i3 
 
178 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 it with gold out of my purse ; and the peacock's 
 my own, for Little John gave it to me." 
 
 " And how he came by it — you did not ask," 
 said the Earl, smiling. 
 
 " Nay, why should I ?" demanded Robin 
 Hood, in the same jesting tone ; " you would 
 not have me doubt my man's honesty ?" 
 
 ** Heaven forbid !" replied the Earl ; " and I 
 will claim aslice of the fair bird, by the same title." 
 
 " Come, my lord, come," cried Robin ; ^* let us 
 sit down.— We have no salt-cellar here, to make 
 a distinction between highest and lowest," he 
 continued aloud ; " so let every man place him- 
 self where he can find room. — Peaceably there, 
 — peaceably! Give seats to the women, and 
 show yourselves courteous as knights. If there 
 be not stools for all, there are platters for all, with 
 meat to spare, and God made the green ground, 
 you know, long before man made a settle. Here 
 my lord, sit by me, and I will help you ; and, 
 as my chaplain is not here, I will give you a 
 forest grace to your meat — Reverence, my men 
 — reverence !" 
 
 Each man stood up, took off his hat, and 
 crossed himself, and Robin Hood, bowing his 
 
FOREST DAYS. 179 
 
 head, and running the two parts of his sentence 
 somewhat close together, though there was a 
 shght pause between them, said, " God give us 
 his blessing — and let no man disturb us !" 
 
 We have given the words of the forester, as 
 affording the best account of the arrangement of 
 his party ; and it is only necessary to add that 
 about a third of the number of those present 
 found seats upon the ground, while the rest 
 placed themselves on stools round the table ; 
 and it is to be remarked that many of the village 
 girls, who had come as guests, preferred the 
 green sward, with a stout young bowman beside 
 them, eating, as was then customary with lovers, 
 out of the same dish. 
 
 As Robin had said, indeed, there was plenty 
 of food for all ; for, besides two gigantic barons 
 of beef, there was many a roasted pig of tender 
 age, capons, and fowls, and pigeons, a heron 
 here and there, together with that most excel- 
 lent of all ancient dishes, a bittern made into 
 soup, while, in the centre of the table, was seen 
 the peacock with his magnificent tail spread out. 
 
 Close by the herons, wherever they appeared, 
 had been placed, by direction of Little John, 
 
180 FOllEST DAYS. 
 
 who would have his jest at the long-legged fowl, 
 large dishes of magnificent trout. " There," said 
 the master of Robin Hood's revels, " the ancient 
 enemies sit side by side peaceably, to show that 
 man's maw made friends of all things !" 
 
 There was no serving at the table of Robin 
 Hood. The Earl's good yeomen fell as readily 
 into the customs of Sherwood as their lord, and, 
 sitting down pell-mell with the green- coated 
 rangers, attacked the meat as soon as grace was 
 said. The cooks, themselves, when their func- 
 tion was done, and the dinner was dished up, 
 took such places as they could find, and every 
 man drawing forth anelace, or dagger, as the 
 case might be, assailed the dish that was before 
 him, and helped his neighbours and himself. 
 For some time a deep silence fell over the whole 
 party, and less noise attended the proceeding 
 than ever occurs now-a-days, for dishes and 
 platters were all of wood, and the knives were 
 encountered by no forks in those times, so that 
 little clatter accompanied the operation cither 
 of carving or eating. 
 
 At the end of about ten minutes, some five or 
 six of the younger men rose from various parts of 
 
FORKST DAYS. 181 
 
 the table, and made an excursion towards the bar- 
 rels we have mentioned. They returned loaded 
 with large flagons, and the only act of ceremony 
 which took place was, that Little John himself, 
 with a large blackjack full of strong ale in one 
 hand, and a stoup of wine in the other, ap- 
 proached the Earl, while another brought a 
 large silver cup, and offered him to drink. Thus 
 refreshed, another attack upon the unresisting 
 viands succeeded, after which more tankards of 
 wine were set around for every one to help him- 
 self as he liked. The juice of the grape soon 
 had its effect so far as to quicken the move- 
 ments of the tongue ; and the jests and laughter, 
 and, it must be said, noise also, became consi- 
 derable. 
 
 From time to time the Earl and Robin Hood 
 exchanged a word in a lower and more serious 
 tone ; but, in general, the old nobleman joined 
 in gaily with the rest, with few words, indeed, 
 and calm withal, but with a well-plcascd buiilc, 
 and a frequent glance dow^n cither side of the 
 table at the row of merry faces which sur- 
 rounded him. 
 
 " Come, Pigmy, come !" cried Robin Hoed, 
 
182 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 at length, addressing Little John, "cheer us 
 with a song, if thy portion of the baron have 
 left thee any voice ; but mind, no ribaldry, and 
 as little impudence as may be." 
 
 '^ Heaven deliver us !" cried Little John, " I 
 shall never be able to sing ! I am like a city 
 lady, who has just been called madam for the 
 first time in her life, and somewhat faint with 
 the smell of fat viands. Come, Billy of South- 
 well, fill me a cup of wine, for I must do our 
 captain's bidding." 
 
 And having taken a deep draught, he went on, 
 
 in a voice of a fine tone, indeed, but loud enough, 
 
 according to the whimsical thought of the poet, to 
 
 " Sweep the sear leaves oft' the trees, 
 As if a storm pass'd by." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 jaobm ?^ootJ antJ tijc (^iiutTcr. 
 
 *' Lythe and listen, my merry-men all, 
 Lythe and listen to me, 
 Of a wonderful matter that once did befal 
 Under the greenwood tree. 
 
 " Those who go out to catch are caught, 
 As you shall presently hear ; 
 For bold Robin Hood once a lesson was taught 
 Which well nigh had cost him dear. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 183 
 
 " * I'm going alone,' said Robin, one day — 
 
 * I'm going alone, to see 
 
 What sport I can make on the king's highway, 
 For I am as good as three. 
 
 " * Take any three men from Nottingham town, 
 And set them all of a row, 
 If they bide my buffet and do not go down, 
 They shall set me up for a show.' 
 
 " Bold Robin went out, and he met with a man — 
 A grinder he was by trade ; 
 And * Ilillo ! stand fast !* good Robin began, 
 
 * Bide here, till the toll be paid.' 
 
 *' ' Get out of my way, toll-taker,' said he ; 
 ' I'm a grinder, and one of hot blood, 
 And I have a strap that should well leather thee, 
 Wert thou even our bold Robin Hood I' 
 
 " Then Robiu he took his stout staff in his hand. 
 And struck at the grinder a blow. 
 But he jump'd aside, and his running wheel-band 
 O'er Robin's two shoulders did throw. 
 
 " With a tug at the end, and a twitch at the buckle. 
 He puU'd it down over his wrists — 
 I know not if Robin's forgotten his knuckle. 
 But he left him the sign of his fists. 
 
 " Good luck for bold Robin ! — the grinder took fright 
 At three yeomen, who came from the wood. 
 Or right sure he'd have pummell'd him on until night, 
 And made jelly of bold Robin Hood !" 
 
184 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Robin laughed heartily at the song; and 
 turnmg to the Earl, he said—" If men should 
 ever talk of me after I am dead, they'll take my 
 character from yon knave's songs. But come, my 
 lord, I'll give you one myself, to another tune." 
 
 SONG. 
 Mtxx)j (iBnslantr. 
 
 " llo, merry England ! merry England, ho ! 
 
 The crunson grape grows ruddy in fair France; 
 
 There the rich juices from the wine-cup flow, 
 
 There beat the timely feet in graceful dance. 
 But give me back the bower 
 Where pass'd youth's jocund hour — 
 
 IIo, merry England ! merry England, ho ! 
 
 *' IIo, merry England! merry England, ho! 
 
 Light fills the skies, and gilds the fields of Spain ; 
 Orange and olive, thyme and myrtle, grow 
 O'er purple hill and perfume-breathing plain ; 
 
 But give to me the glade, 
 
 And twinkling forest shade, 
 Of merry England, merry England, ho ! 
 
 " Ho, merry England ! merry England, ho ! 
 Bright shines the sun on the Italian shore, 
 And art and nature gain a blighter glow 
 From memories of greatness gone before ; 
 
 But my dear island home 
 
 Veils not the crest to Rome, 
 Ho, merry England, merry England, ho! 
 
FOREST r>A\s. 185 
 
 " IIo, merry Eiiglantl, merry Eiiylaiul, ho! 
 Thy hiils, and dells, and groves, 
 Are full of brigiiter things than other lands : 
 Glorious remembrances, and happy loves, 
 And hearts sincere, and true and honest hands. 
 There let my life go by, 
 And my grave, when I die. 
 Be merry England, merry England, ho ! 
 
 It seemed to be a favourite song with the 
 outlaw, and also with his companions, for at the 
 close of each stanza they took up the refrain of — 
 
 " Ho, merry England, merry England, ho !" 
 
 and singing it to a wild though very simple 
 minor air, produced a powerful effect upon 
 their hearers and upon each other. When they 
 had done, their leader i)oured out some wine, 
 saying, " Pledge us a cup, my lord the Earl, in 
 wine — better than which Gascony never pro- 
 duced, — to that dear mother-land for which we 
 have bled, or are willing to bleed. Here's to 
 merry England !" 
 
 The Earl willingly drunk the toast; and 
 after a few words more, he said, in a low 
 voice, to his companion, " I fear I must mar 
 your merriment, Robin, by departure. I am 
 
186 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 anxious for tidings, and have perhaps delayed 
 somewhat too long already. I know that letters 
 must be waiting for me, and they may need an 
 instant answer." 
 
 " Seek them not at Nottingham, my lord, at 
 all events," replied the forester ; " aware of the 
 trap they had laid for you there, I have already 
 sent out people to stay any messengers De 
 Montfort may have dispatched to you, and bid 
 them turn aside to the little village of Stapleford. 
 There you will find them, if at all. Yet I would 
 fain have you remain here an hour or two 
 longer ; for, in the course of this night, I m^^self 
 expect tidings by a sure hand and a nearer way." 
 
 " I will leave either the priest or my good 
 yeoman, Blawket, with you," said the Earl, in a 
 low tone. " Both are to be trusted." 
 
 " The priest !" exclaimed Robin Hood, 
 " God bless his reverence, I forgot, and took 
 his trade out of his hand just now. I must add 
 a paternoster to-night, when he is at the table ; 
 but, in good truth, I quite forgot him. — Blawket 
 must do, I fear, my lord ; but yet I could have 
 wished to have some one with me whom I could 
 consult in case of need ; for I, too, may have to 
 
FOREST DAYS. 187 
 
 act at a moment's warning, and may require 
 to arrange some plan for joining you speedily, 
 which I could not do with either the yeoman 
 or the priest. Still I suppose you are right, 
 and had better proceed." 
 
 " Hark !'' cried the Earl, and, after a mo- 
 mentary pause, he added, " I thought I heard 
 the blast of a horn at a great distance ; perhaps 
 it is your messenger." 
 
 " No," rephed the outlaw ; " I heard it too, 
 but it came from the east. I have scouts out 
 that way. Some one must be riding Sher- 
 wood worthy of notice. We shall soon know 
 more. Silence, my men, silence ! There is a 
 horn, I think, from the ash-tree covert !" 
 
 All was instantly still, and for rather more 
 than a minute no one spoke. But patience 
 began to grow weary, and one or two at the 
 lower en 1 of the table were beginning to say an 
 occasional word to their next neighbour in a 
 low tone, when the horn again sounded, much 
 nearer than before, and Little John started up, 
 exclaiming, " That's Kneller's blast at the hol- 
 low oak on Mostyn's Edge !" 
 
188 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " Look to your bows, my merry men," cried 
 Robin Hood ; " whoever it is, he comes this 
 way fast. We may have to show the Earl some 
 of our habits of Hfe." 
 
 Every man now rose from the table at once, 
 the implements of archery (which were hung 
 upon, or leaning against, several of the trees 
 around) w^ere hastily resumed, the bows were 
 strung, and an arrow or two fitted to the string. 
 
 In about five minutes more, another horn 
 sounded, not many hundred yards from the 
 spot where the tables were laid. The country 
 girls ran to the other side of the green, although 
 they were told not to be afraid; and the old 
 Earl separating his followers from the rest, 
 bade each man have his hand upon his bridle, 
 ready to mount and take whatever part might 
 seem needful; when gradually the sound of 
 horses' feet coming at a quick pace became 
 distinct, and, after a short pause of expectation, 
 Hugh of Monthermer, with four or five servants, 
 somewhat heated and travel-stained, rode into 
 the little open space, and suddenly halted, as if 
 in wonder at the scene which met their sight. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 189 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Not a little was the surprise of uncle and 
 nephew at thus meeting in the midst of Sher- 
 wood, but it was greater on the part of the old 
 Earl than of Hugh. The scene, indeed, in 
 which he found his venerable relative, might 
 astonish the young gentleman a little ; for the 
 free rangers of the forest, the profusely covered 
 table, the mne barrel, and the drinking cups, 
 were certainly accessories which he had not ex- 
 pected to see around his noble kinsman. With 
 the deference, however, which, at that period, 
 existed for age and renown, he expressed no 
 astonishment, and asked no questions, but dis- 
 mounting from his horse, proceeded, in answer 
 to his uncle, to inform him why and how he 
 had returned, instead of accompanying the Earl 
 
190 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 of Ashby on his way either to Lindwell or to 
 London. 
 
 But as the reader is well aware of the circum- 
 stances connected with tlie sudden disappear- 
 ance of Lucy de Ashby, and of the part in 
 seeking her which Hugh de Monthermer had 
 taken upon himself, we shall not recapitulate 
 this part of the young knight's account, but con- 
 tent ourselves with stating what success he had 
 met with in the pursuit. 
 
 " Last night I swept the whole roads through 
 the forest," he said, " in a breadth of about two 
 miles, without discovering the slightest trace of 
 any one who could have had a share in this 
 outrageous act. I met a swineherd at one time, 
 and then a ploughman with two potters bringing 
 along clay in a cart, but no other persons what- 
 soever. — Why do you smile, good forester ?" he 
 continued, turning to Robin Hood. 
 
 " Because, noble sir," replied the outlaw, 
 " men in the forest of Sherwood are not always 
 exactly what they look. It is difficult there to 
 know a carrion crow from an ousel." 
 
 " I may have been deceived, indeed," said 
 
FOREST DAYS. 191 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer ; '^ but in one thing I 
 must be right ; whether they be ousels or car- 
 rion crows, they had no lady mth them. How^- 
 ever, I anived at Oxton, in the wood, an horn- 
 after sunset, and as there was no possibility of 
 pursuing my search any farther then, I re- 
 mained at the house of the reve, making in- 
 quiries amongst the people of the village, 
 several of whom were coming in from their 
 work in the forest. Last night I discovered 
 nothing, but this morning at dawn a man was 
 brought to me who reported that, in crossing 
 from Southwell about noon yesterday, he had 
 seen two ladies on horseback, accompanied by a 
 number of men on foot. The lady, he said, was 
 gaily dressed, and very beautiful" — the Earl 
 smiled, — " and certainly a lady of high degree. 
 They were bringing her down towards Mans- 
 field, the fellow thought, so I set off at once, 
 beating up every road in the neighbourhood, and 
 often losing my way. From time to time, how- 
 ever, the sound of a horn led me on, though I 
 never could discover who it was that winded it." 
 " Did the man imply," asked the Earl, ** that 
 
192 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 the people who accompanied this lady were 
 using force ?" 
 
 " No," replied Hugh de Monthermer ; " he 
 vowed that she appeared to go very willinglj^ ; 
 but still I thought it could not but be the lady I 
 was seeking, from her great beauty and her 
 dress." 
 
 *^ As if there were no beautiful woman in the 
 world but Lucy de Ashby?" cried the Earl. 
 " What say you to this story, Robin ? You 
 should know if she have passed this way." 
 
 " No lady higher than a franklin's daughter 
 has gone on the road to Mansfield/' replied 
 Robin Hood, " except the Prioress of Wakefield, 
 who came by yesterday with about a dozen men 
 on foot, and a nun with her. She is a goodly 
 dame to look upon, too, with lips like a pair of 
 cherries ; and as to her dress, she had a purfied 
 liripipy might have suited a court harlot, a 
 dagger at her girdle with a silver chain, a 
 peaked hat, and a gold medal round her neck. 
 Yes, she was a goodly dame to look upon, and 
 weighed some fourteen stone or more. I have 
 seen fatter women, but not many." 
 
FOREST DAY^5. 193 
 
 "Psha!" said Hugh de Montliermer; "you 
 are jesting." 
 
 " Not I, in faith and truth," cried Robin 
 Hood ; " she is the only woman of rank who 
 has passed this " way for a week, and assuredly 
 I ought to know. Here is a bevy of as pretty 
 country maidens as ever came out to see fo- 
 resters shoot at the butts ; but I will answer 
 for it that no lady of higher degree than them- 
 selves has gone along the road to Mansfield — 
 except, indeed, the Prioress of Wakefield, and 
 the nun who went with her. But did the good 
 man tell you no more ? — His information must 
 have been somewhat scanty." 
 
 " He told me," replied Hugh de Monthermer, 
 with a momentary smile crossing the anxiety 
 which his countenance displayed — " he told me 
 to take care how I went, for I might meet with 
 Robin Hood and his merry men, and come 
 home with a loss." 
 
 "Ay!" said Robin; "Ay! and, doubtless, you 
 answered, my young lord, that you were not 
 afraid, but would bring Robin Hood to Notting- 
 ham if you met him." 
 
 VOL. r, K 
 
194 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 " No/' answered Hugh de Monthermer, " No, 
 T said' no such thing. I told him, on the con- 
 trary, that I should be very glad to see bold 
 Robin Hood ; and that I was sure, if I did, w^e 
 should meet and part good friends, as he and 
 my uncle had fought side by side in the good 
 cause of Old England." 
 
 Robin Hood held out his hand to him, re- 
 plying — "You said right, young lord: though, let 
 me tell you, it is not every gay gallant who may 
 come through the forest that would go out of it 
 again, without having his smart skin taken off 
 his back as if he were a brown hare or a spotted 
 deer. But you have come just at the nick of 
 time. Let your uncle go on, and tell the Earl of 
 Ashby, when he finds him, that Robin Hood 
 says, the loss of his daughter is the judgment of 
 the Blessed Virgin upon his head, for winking 
 at Richard dc Ashby's carrying off the child of 
 as honest a man as himself, and making a 
 leman of her. — It would be no marvel to hear 
 that she has gone away with some wild young 
 Frenchman of King Henry's bringing over. — 
 Nay, look not so fierce, my noble lord, nor 
 colour up so red ! I mean no insult to the lady. — 
 
POREST DAYS. 195 
 
 How should I know aught about her or her 
 character ? But if I had her in my hands, she 
 should never return to her own home till the 
 old Earl had pledged himself to send back idle 
 Kate Greenly. However, it's no affair of mine, 
 you'll say ; and we have weightier matters to 
 think of Both your uncle and myself were 
 mightily puzzled just now, as he must go on at 
 all speed, and yet it is needful that I should 
 have some one here, to consult with in regard to 
 the news I expect to-night. You have come, 
 then, just in time to remain with me, and to 
 settle whatever plan may seem expedient ac- 
 cording to the tidings that I receive." 
 
 Hugh de Monthcrmer looked doubtfully from 
 the face of the Outlaw to that of his uncle, and 
 then demanded, " Have I your word that she 
 has not passed this way ?" 
 
 " I pawn my soul that she has not," replied 
 the forester. 
 
 The young man cast his eyes down towards 
 
 the ground, and thought for an instant or tv/o, a 
 
 suspicion having taken possession of his mind, 
 
 he knew not well why, that Robin was better 
 
 k2 
 
196 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 informed of Lucy de Ashby's fate than he chose 
 to avow. 
 
 Before he had brought his meditations to an 
 end, however, the old Earl interrupted them, 
 saying, " It is very needful, Hugh, that, if pos- 
 sible, you should remain here, as he asks you. 
 From your account, you have sought this fair 
 lady much farther than 3^ou undertook to do. 
 You have likewise been misled a little from the 
 track, I fancy ; and it seems to me more than 
 probable that some emissary of the king's, or of 
 the Earl of Gloucester's — who has been lately 
 proclaimed by De Montfort, a traitor, — ma}^ 
 have got possession of the fair Lucy, as a 
 hostage for her father's neutrality." 
 
 " Gloucester proclaimed a traitor !" said Hugh 
 deMonthermer. " Then are active times coming, 
 my dear uncle ! — I will not refuse to stay if it be 
 needful, but still " 
 
 " You could do no good by any farther 
 search," interrupted the Earl ; " she must either 
 have been found by her father or her brother, 
 or must be far away ere now. — I look upon it 
 as a duty, Hugh, that one of us should remain 
 here this night ; and assuredly I ought to go on." 
 
 I 
 
lOEEST DAYS. 191 
 
 ** Enough, enough!' rephed Hugh dc Mun- 
 thermer. " Your ^vish, my lord, is sufficient for 
 mc. But what can I do with the men ? Two 
 of them belong to my Lord of Ashby, — and 
 where can I stable my horses ?" 
 
 " Send them all aw^ay but your own charger," 
 said the Outlaw. "You are not afraid to stay 
 alone with Robin Hood — or Robert of the Lees, 
 if you like the name better ?" 
 
 " Not in the least," answered the young gen- 
 tleman. " I know I am as safe with you, bold 
 Robin, as in my owai castle. Take them then 
 with you, fair uncle; and you, sir," he conti- 
 nued, turning to one of the Earl of Ashby's 
 servants, " bear witness to your lord that I have 
 sought this young lady far and near, wdth all zeal 
 and due devotion. Tell him, moreover, that J 
 have ascertained beyond all doubt — as you your- 
 self have heard — that she has not passed in this 
 direction. Should he himself find her, I trust 
 he will send me a messenger to ease my mind — 
 that is to say, to save me the trouble of farther 
 pursuit." 
 
 " Well, then, I will away," said the old Earl, 
 " for the sun is getting far down already. I 
 
198 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 sleep to-night at Stapleford, and to-moiTow go on 
 for Derby. Follow me quickly, Hugh. So long 
 as you are in Sherwood with our good friends 
 here, you are safe, but I wall leave you half a 
 score of archers at Stapleford, and, should I find 
 the roads dangerous, will send you some spears 
 from Derby. If you learn by to-night's tid- 
 ings that war has already begun, arrange with 
 bold Robin for a levy of as many yeomen as 
 possible, and let them march to join me where- 
 ever I am making head." 
 
 Thus saying, the Earl, putting his foot in the 
 stirrup, flung himself lightly into the saddle, 
 gave a brief order for the attendants who had 
 followed his nephew to fall in with the rest of 
 his train ; and, once more grasping the hand of 
 the Outlaw, without forgetting his companion. 
 Little John, he rode away, taking, as his parting 
 benison, a loud cheer from the band of yeomen. 
 
 " Now, my young lord," said Robin, when he 
 had gazed for a moment or two after the gallant 
 old Earl, "you seem fatigued and exhausted 
 after your day's ride. I will warrant you, you 
 have not broken bread since " 
 
 " Since five o'clock this morning," replied 
 
FOREST DAYS. 199 
 
 Hugh de Monthermcr; "but that matters not, I 
 am more anxious than tired, and care little for 
 food." 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense, young gentleman," 
 cried Robin, taking him by the arm, and draw- 
 ing him towards the table. " Here, some one hold 
 the horse. A slice of yon baron, though it be, 
 like a timid counsellor, neither hot nor cold, to- 
 gether with a cup of Bordeaux wine, will do you 
 good, young sir." 
 
 " Nay," replied Hugh, " give me one of those 
 barley cakes and the wine you speak of. That 
 is all I want. Where do we rest to-night ?" 
 
 " Some three miles hence, on the way to 
 Nottingham," answered the forester, " and if 
 you will not sup now, you must have a rerc 
 supper there." 
 
 While Hugh dc Monthermer broke the barley 
 cake and drank the wine, Robin spoke a few 
 words, in an under tone, to Little John, who 
 replied, laughing, " No fear, no fear ; there is 
 plenty of light, dear little souls." 
 
 " Nay, but I will have it so," answered his 
 leader, aloud. " Now, my merry men and pretty 
 maids, disperse, and God's blessing be with you. 
 
200 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 But let it be remembered that if there be a 
 damsel away from her home at sunset, I will 
 reckon with the man that keeps her. They are 
 all under the safeguard of our honour ; and we 
 shall lose their sweet faces at our feasts if any 
 evil happens to them. — Those who have sturdy 
 shoulders, clear away all that is left, and let it 
 be given to the poor in the villages round. So 
 do the monks at their gates, and Robin Hood 
 will be as good as a monk, though his gates be 
 the meres of Sherwood. Here, cooks, here is 
 your reward, and let the tapster take the tuns 
 for his pains." 
 
 Very rapidly after these words were spoken 
 the numbers on the green began to disperse. 
 Some sauntered down the road, some disap- 
 peared amongst the trees, and those that re- 
 mained made themselves busy in carrying off 
 the platters and trenchers from the table, and 
 piUng the whole of the simple dinner-service, 
 stools and all, into some large country carts 
 which stood near. ]\o horses, indeed, were 
 upon the ground, but that of Hugh de Mon- 
 thermer, and the white charger which had borne 
 the bold forester, and which was still seen under 
 
FOREST DAYS. 201 
 
 a tree, finisliing slowly a trough of oats that had 
 been put down for its consumption. 
 
 The boy who had held the beast while 
 Robin was waiting for the Earl of Mont- 
 hermer, now stood close to his master's side 
 looking up in his face ; and, at a sign of the 
 finger, he darted away and led up the steed at 
 a quick pace. 
 
 Robin laid his hand upon the urchin's head, 
 saying, " Good boy !" and that word, if one 
 might judge by the smile of the young counte- 
 nance, was reward enough. 
 
 " Now I am ready," said Hugh de Monther- 
 mer; and, mounting their horses, they rode 
 away into the wood. 
 
 " You will sup better to-night," said Robin, 
 as they went. 
 
 "I do not know," replied the 3^oung lord; 
 " I am anxious about this young lady, Robin, 
 that is the truth ; and anxiety makes but bad 
 sauce to the most savoury food." 
 
 " Nay — nay, take heart of grace," said Robin; 
 " I doubt not she is well enough wherever she 
 may be, and it becomes not a gay gentleman to 
 k3 
 
202 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 pine for any lady till he knows tliat she fares 
 hardly." 
 
 " Nay, I do not pine," replied Hugh, not 
 liking the term ; " methinks I do not look much 
 like a sick crow or a magpie in the moultmg 
 season ; but still I must feel somewhat anxious, 
 as you would if you had ever seen her." 
 
 " Is she so very beautiful, then ?" said Robin 
 Hood, with an arch smile. 
 
 " Faith is she !" answered Hugh de Monther- 
 mer, " and more than beautiful, though you 
 may think my description savours' of extrava- 
 gance. But it is not so. I have seen others 
 perhaps as beautiful — perhaps more so — but 
 there is that sort of charm about her — that sort 
 of sparkling grace, which is like nothing but the 
 bright morning sunshine, giving fresh loveliness 
 to everything it lights upon." 
 
 " Are you sure that the charm is not love ?" 
 asked Robin Hood. " But let us talk of other 
 matters. Here we must turn off from the road, 
 and I take you through paths in Sherwood un- 
 known to any justice, either north or south of 
 Trent. Although I could well trust to your 
 
FOREST DAYS. 203 
 
 knightly honour, and to your regard for the laws 
 of hospitality, yet I must here exact from you 
 a promise, which every one makes who is led 
 where I lead you. It is, that, upon your honour 
 as true man and good knight, everything you 
 sec or hear from this spot till I lead you back 
 to the high road again, shall be forgotten as soon 
 as you quit me, and revealed to no one — no, 
 not to your confessor." 
 
 The notions which then existed of knightly 
 honour caused Hugh de Monthermer to give 
 the promise exacted from him without the 
 sUghtest hesitation ; and, that having been done, 
 the bold forester led him on through one of 
 those narrow lanes which we have before men- 
 tioned, where only one horse could advance at 
 a time. This path continued for about half a 
 mile, and opened out into one of the wildest 
 parts of the forest, through which there seemed 
 to be no track of any kind. 
 
 It was not one of those spots properly called 
 coverts — which name was only applied to woods 
 so thick that the branches of the trees touched 
 each other, — but, on the contrary, it was a 
 sort of wild chase, scattered with fine old oaks, 
 
204 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 and encumbered with an immense quantity of 
 brushwood. There were patches of green grass 
 to be seen here and there, indeed, and once or 
 twice a sandy bank peeped out amongst the 
 bushes, while two or three large ponds, and a 
 small silver stream appeared glistening at about 
 half a mile's distance from the spot where the 
 horsemen issued forth from the lane. 
 
 It was as lovely a forest scene as ever the eye 
 rested upon, for the ground was broken, and a 
 thousand beautiful accidents diversified the land- 
 scape. Every here and there a tall mound of 
 earth, sometimes covered with turf, sometimes 
 rounded with brushwood, would rise up, bearing 
 aloft a graceful clump of trees, while the setting 
 sun, pouring its long horizontal rays across the 
 Avild track, cast lengthened shadows over the 
 ground below, and brightened all the higher 
 points with gleams of purple light. 
 
 Beyond, again, at the distance of not less than 
 two miles and a half, and considerably lower 
 than the spot where the tw^o journey ers stood, 
 reappeared the thicker coverts of the forest, 
 rolling like the waves of a deep green sea in the 
 calm and mellow rays of the departing day. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 205 
 
 while a slight mist here and there marked out 
 its separate lines, growing fainter and more faint, 
 till some distant objects, like towers and pin- 
 nacles — they might be clouds — they might be 
 parts of a far city — closed the scene, and united 
 the earth with the sky. 
 
 Here all trace of a road ended, but without 
 the slightest hesitation, bold Robin Hood led the 
 way onward, threading with unerring steps the 
 different green lines which separated one mass 
 of brushwood from another, guiding his compa- 
 nion under one tall bank, and round another 
 high mound, between the bolls of old oaks, and 
 across the dancing stream, without even once 
 meeting a check, or having to pause in his whole 
 course through the woody labyrinth. 
 
 At length, however, the sun went down, and 
 the twilight just sufficed to show Hugh de Mon- 
 thermer his way, as they had reached the lowest 
 spot of the chase, and approached a clump of 
 several acres of thick covert. There was a path 
 at one angle by which Robin and his companion 
 entered, and winding on in darkness for some 
 way — for the trees excluded the whole of the 
 
206 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 remaining rays — they at length emerged into an 
 open space in the centre, where they could again 
 see, though faintly, the objects around them. 
 
 Opposite to the mouth of the road by which 
 they came, was the first building that they had 
 seen upon their ride. It was of a very peculiar 
 architecture, consisting of round stones piled 
 upon one another, and cemented together, 
 being what, I believe, is called rubble, while the 
 windows and doors alone, presented hewn stone 
 lintels and transoms, with short small columns 
 supporting each. A quantity of ivy had grown 
 over the greater part of the building ; but there 
 were lights within, and gay voices laughing, and 
 for a moment Robin Hood drew up his horse as 
 if to listen. 
 
 " Here," he said, at length, " lived and reigned 
 a Saxon Thane when the trees of Sherwood 
 were yet young. His bones lie in the little 
 chapel behind. The memory of the place has 
 passed away as well as the people that inhabited 
 it, and it has come to be the abode of a child of 
 the same race, when outlawed for the love of 
 his country." 
 
FOREST DAYS, 207 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Two notes, or, as they were then called, mots, 
 upon his horn, formed the only signal that Robin 
 Hood gave of his retm'n ; but in an instant those 
 sounds brought forth a head from one of the 
 windows, at the height of about twelve or thir- 
 teen feet from the ground. That it was appa- 
 rently a human head, Hugh could distinguish, 
 and also that it was a very large one, somewhat 
 strangely shaped ; but he was not a 111 tic sur- 
 prised when the body began to follow after, with 
 an extraordinary serpent-like suppleness, till the 
 knees were brought upon the window sill ; and 
 then, the feet being swung over, the body was 
 suddenly dropped, and hung against the side of 
 the house, while one hand retained its hold of 
 the stone work^ and the other waved,' what 
 
208 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 seemed to be, an odd-looking cap, round and 
 round in the air. The next instant the being 
 who had thought fit to employ this unusual 
 method of descent, let go the grasp of its left- 
 hand, and came down upon its feet, bounding 
 up again from the earth like a ball, and cutting 
 a curious caper in the air. 
 
 Although well accustomed to all the mon- 
 sters which were then much sought for in 
 courts and castles, Hugh de Monthermer at first 
 imagined that the creature before him was an 
 enormous ape, so extraordinary was its agility, 
 and such the pliancy of all its limbs. The arms, 
 too, like those of the Simla tribe, were of an ex- 
 traordinary length, and the one which attached 
 it to the window as it hung from above, seemed 
 to be longer than the whole body. The 
 moment after it descended, however, the young 
 knight was undeceived, for a human voice pro- 
 ceeded from the supposed ape, of remarkable 
 sweetness. 
 
 " Ho ! Robin, Ho !" it said in EngUsh.* " So 
 you have come home at length, wicked wan- 
 
 * It must be remembered that Norman French was at 
 
FOREST DAYS. 209 
 
 derer. You have been feasting in the forest, I 
 know, and carried off little Harry with you to 
 pamper him on wine and comfits, and left Tangel 
 behind with the women." 
 
 " Did I not take thee at Christmas," asked 
 Robin, " and leave Harry behind ? It was but 
 fliir, Tangel!" 
 
 " Ay, but he's the favourite," said the dwarf, 
 " though he can't do half that I can. Pretty 
 looks, Robin, pretty looks ! You're like all the 
 world, beauty's fool. Pretty looks are every- 
 thing ! But I'll comb him into worsted when 
 he comes back again." 
 
 " Nay ; thou wilt not hurt him," replied 
 Robin ; '* thou lovest him as well as we do, 
 Tangel." 
 
 " I love him !" exclaimed the dwarf. " Scurvy 
 little monster of whiteness ! I love him not — 
 out upon him ! I'll carve his pink cheeks for 
 him, and bore a hole in each of his eyes. Take 
 care what you do with him, Robin, and look 
 well to your meat ; for if I find you kinder to 
 him than to me, I'll roast him before a slow fire, 
 baste him in his own fat, and serve him up to 
 
210 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 you as a barbecued pig. Ha ! ha ! ha ! — that 
 will be fine sport ! — Come, give me the horses. — 
 Who have you got here in the purfled jerkin ? — 
 Give you good day, sir," and with his cap in 
 his hand, he made a low and grotesque bow to 
 the young lord. 
 
 " He will take your horse, my lord," said 
 Robin. " Now let us in," and approaching the 
 door, he shook it with his hand. It was locked, 
 however, and the stout forester was obliged to 
 have recourse to an instrument, in use during 
 many centuries in England, which served the 
 purpose of a knocker. It consisted merely of a 
 large ring with sundry notches in it; and, a 
 small iron bar, hanging beside it by a chain, 
 being rapidly run over the indented surface, 
 produced a sharp and unpleasant sound, which 
 soon called the attention of those within, who 
 enquired who was there. 
 
 The door was speedily thrown open at Robin's 
 well-known voice, and Hugh de Monthermer 
 followed his guide through a long dark passage 
 into a room at the back of the house. There 
 were lights in it, though it was vacant ; and it 
 
FOREST DAYS. 211 
 
 was hung with tapestry, which was stained in 
 some places as if with damp, though in general 
 the colours were as fresh as when first the 
 texture was wrought. 
 
 " Here, Cicely," said Robin Hood, pausing 
 at the door after his guest had entered, and 
 speaking to a pretty young woman who had 
 given them admission — " Bid them prepare a 
 chamber for this young lord; and hark! tell 
 old Martha " 
 
 The rest of the sentence was lost to the ears 
 of the young gentleman, and after the girl had 
 tripped away, the Outlaw remained upon the 
 threshold, with his eyes bent down upon the 
 ground, apparently in a meditative mood, till 
 at length the sound of some one singing seemed 
 to rouse him from his reverie. It was a remark- 
 ably sweet voice, and the air was one but little 
 known in England at the time, coming from 
 those Southern lands where music had made 
 greater progress than with us. 
 
 Robin listened for a moment or two, and then 
 said aloud, though evidently speaking to him- 
 self—" It is scarcely just, after all, to punish the 
 
212 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 innocent for the guilty ; and it must be a j)unish- 
 ment, though she bears it lightly. I must speak 
 with him first, however." 
 
 " Remember, you are not alone, good Robin," 
 said Hugh of Monthermer, unwilling to be a 
 partaker in the Outlaw's counsels, 
 
 Robin Hood laughed — " It was ever a fault 
 of mine," he replied, " that my tongue was a 
 false gaoler to my thoughts. One would some- 
 times fancy I w^as an old doating woman, to 
 mumble to myself the fragments of half di- 
 gested purposes. But come, my lord, you 
 have not supped, I have ; and as there is much 
 business to do, I must leave you for a time. I 
 go to see a young friend of yours and mine, in 
 order to hold with him some counsel of import- 
 ance; and I beseech you, quit not this house 
 till 1 return, which will be in about two hours' 
 time." 
 
 " I will not," answered Hugh, " and in the 
 meantime, rather than sup, I Avill lie me down 
 and take some rest, having first, with your good 
 leave, seen to the accommodation of my horse." 
 
 " Trust hnn to my people, trust him to my 
 
FOREST DAYS. 213 
 
 people," replied Robin Hood — " and follow my 
 advice. Take some supper: you may have to 
 ride far to night, for aught you know ; and meat 
 and drink in moderation, is strength, if not cou- 
 rage. Hunger is a sad tamer of stout limbs." 
 
 As he spoke, he lighted a small silver lamp at 
 one of the candles, which hung in a large 
 polished brass sconce against the wall, and bid- 
 ding the young lord follow, he led the way 
 through another of those long narrow passages 
 which occupied so much space in all ancient 
 houses. No doors appeared on either side till 
 a sudden turn to the right brought them to the 
 foot of a heavy wooden staircase, the steps of 
 which seemed to be composed of solid blocks 
 of wood, piled round a common centre. There 
 was a rope on either hand fastened by stanchions 
 of iron let into the stonework of the wall. 
 
 " There," said Robin Hood, giving the 
 young lord the lamp, " if you go up and open 
 the door just before you, at the top, you will 
 find some supper ready. When you are tired, 
 and wish to go to bed, call for Cicely or Tangel, 
 and they will show you the way. I must hasten 
 away, or I may miss my time." 
 
214 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer took the lamp, and 
 bidding God speed him for the present, as- 
 cended the stairs with a slow step. At the top 
 he found himself in a large sort of vestibule, 
 lighted from one end, and containing three doors; 
 one immediately opposite to him, as Robin had 
 said ; another a little farther down, and another 
 upon his left hand ; but although the directions 
 of the Outlaw had been very distinct, Hugh de 
 Monthermer paused and hesitated, for he heard 
 the sound of voices speaking within, and the 
 tongues seemed those of women. 
 
 Although he was by no means averse to the 
 society of the fair, the young knight imagined 
 that there must be some mistake, as the Outlaw 
 had given him no cause to suppose that any 
 one was waiting for him. After a moment of 
 suspense, however, he approached and knocked ; 
 and a voice answered, " Come in, whoever you 
 are ;" adding, as he opened the door, " Come 
 in, for we have no means of keeping any one 
 out." 
 
 The sight that presented itself to Hugh de 
 Monthermer made him pause suddenly in sur- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 215 
 
 prise not unmingled with pleasure. The room 
 was a small low-roofed chamber, covered with 
 dark-coloured painted cloth instead of arras, but 
 well hghted, and with a blazing log on the 
 hearth, which might be needed in that old 
 dwelling, notwithstanding the month being May. 
 Although the furniture was ancient even in those 
 times, yet everything was most comfortable ac- 
 cording to the usages of the day. The floor was 
 thickly strewed with dry rushes, and a table 
 was in the midst, on which pretty Cicely was 
 arranging, in haste, a number of dishes, and 
 plates, and drinking-cups. 
 
 But it was neither on the maid nor on the 
 table that the eyes of Hugh rested, for in a 
 chair, at some distance from the fire, sat a fair 
 lady, amusing herself with an old embroidery 
 frame, while on two seats somewhat lower, en- 
 gaged in winding and unwinding silks, sat two 
 girls of about the same age as their mistress, one 
 of whom was evidently the person who had 
 spoken, as her eyes were fixed upon the door, 
 and her pretty httlc lips still apart. 
 
 If the surprise of Hugh de Monthcrmer was 
 great, that of the party within seemed not less 
 
216 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 SO. The lady at once dropped the embroidery 
 frame, started up and ran towards him with her 
 hands extended, as if she would have cast her- 
 self into his arms, exclaiming, with a glowing 
 cheek and sparkling eye — " Hugh !" Then, 
 suddenly stopping herself, she turned her eyes 
 to the ground, and the colour became still 
 brighter in her face than before. She recovered 
 herself in a moment ; but neither of the maids 
 of Lucy de Ashby ever jested with their mis- 
 tress afterwards upon her wearing the colours 
 of the House of Monthermer. 
 
 Hugh, however, did not hesitate, but ad- 
 vancing, with a quick step, took the hand that 
 was held out to him, and pressed his lips upon 
 it. " Lucy !" he cried, " have I then found you 
 at last?'' 
 
 " Have you been seeking me, my lord ?" 
 asked Lucy de Ashby, glancing her eyes timidly 
 towards the two maids ; " I trust you are come 
 to deliver us — though, to say sooth," she added, 
 with a gay look, " we have been so well treated 
 in the forest, and so thoroughly despaired of 
 gaining our freedom, that we had well-nigh 
 chosen ourselves husbands from the bold rangers." 
 
FOREST DAYS. 217 
 
 " You might do worse, Lady," said Cicely, 
 scarcely liking the subject to be jested with; 
 " there are honest hearts in the forest !" 
 
 " Doubtless, my good girl," replied Lucy ; 
 " but you forget, we have not tried them yet. 
 Now, my good Lord Hugh, let us know, in a 
 word, whether you are come to deliver us or 
 not. — On my life, one would think that he was 
 the man who goes about preaching patience : 
 to keep a lady one whole minute without an 
 answer !" 
 
 " Nay," replied Hugh, " I am so surprised to 
 find you here, that my wonder must have 
 time to cool ! But, in reply to your question, 
 fairest lady, I must own, though I certainly 
 came into Sherwood to seek you, I came not 
 here to deliver you." 
 
 " Why, how is that, Sir Knight ?" demanded 
 Lucy, a shade of disappointment coming over 
 her bright countenance, at the thought of being 
 detained longer in the forest ; for, however 
 gaily we may bear it, the loss of liberty is 
 always painful, and the exercise of that gift 
 which has brought so much misery to every 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
218 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 man — our own free will — is not the less dear 
 under any circumstances — " Why, how is that ? 
 Surely, if you came to seek me, you came to 
 deliver me ! You speak in riddles but to tease 
 me a little longer." 
 
 " Nay, Heaven forbid ! " replied Hugh de 
 Monthermer, " that I should tease you at all ! 
 But, to explain what I mean, I must tell you the 
 whole story." 
 
 "Oh, tell it, tell it then!" cried the lady; 
 " that is quite according to every ballad in the 
 land ! The knight always finds the lady in the 
 wood, and then narrates his lamentable history." 
 
 "Mine shall be a short one, at all events," 
 said Hugh, and he proceeded, as briefly as pos- 
 sible, to relate all that had occurred to him 
 during the last six-and-thirty hours. 
 
 Every one, of course, in this world tells his 
 story in his own way, and his manner of telling 
 it is not alone modified by his own peculiar 
 character, but by the circumstances in which he 
 is placed, and the passions that are within him 
 at the moment. This truism may be trite 
 enough, but it was applicable to the case of 
 
FOREST DAYS. 219 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer, for his own sensations at 
 the time affected the method of telHng his tale 
 even more than any of the pecuharities of his 
 own nature. The feelings that he entertained to- 
 wards Lucy de Ashby — the difficulty of restrain- 
 ing those feelings, and yet the fear of suffering 
 them to appear too openly, circumstanced as he 
 then was, all modified his history, and made it 
 very different from what it would have been 
 had he been indifferent to the person whom he 
 addressed. Love, however, has ever been con- 
 sidered a skilful teacher of oratory, and without 
 any actual intention of doing so, every word 
 that Hugh de Monthermer uttered showed the 
 fair girl beside him something more of the pas- 
 sion w^hich she already knew was in his heart. 
 
 He paused but little upon the anxiety of her 
 father, or the indignation of her brother, but he 
 detailed at length the whole of his own course 
 while seeking her, the grief he had felt, the ap- 
 prehensions he had entertained, and the dis- 
 appointment he had experienced when frus- 
 trated in his endeavours ; and, although there 
 appeared from time to time flashes of his own 
 l2 
 
220 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 gay and sparkling disposition — though he told 
 his tale jestingly, with many a light figure and 
 playful illustration, there was an under-tone of 
 deep tenderness running through the w^hole, 
 which showed Lucy that the sportive tone was 
 but as a light veil cast over the true feelings of 
 his heart. 
 
 The reader need hardly be told, after the 
 traits that we have given — which, though they 
 be few, were significant enough — that Lucy was 
 not by any means displeased with the disco- 
 veries which she made in Hugh de Monther- 
 mer's bosom. That she loved him we have 
 not attempted to conceal, but the history of 
 her love is somewhat curious, and worth in- 
 quiring into, as it displays some of the little 
 secrets of the human heart. 
 
 Lucy de Ashby was by no means a coquette ; 
 her nature was too tender — too sensitive, her 
 mind too imaginative for cold arts. She knew 
 that she was beautiful, it is true; indeed she 
 could not doubt it, for she saw it in every mirror, 
 and heard it from every tongue ; but she was far 
 less anxious for admiration than for love. In- 
 deed, to persons not naturally vain, who aim 
 
FOREST DAYS. 
 
 at higher objects than merely to please the 
 eye, personal admiration, although they may 
 know that they deserve it, may sometimes become 
 even burdensome. Lucy, for one, was tired of 
 hearing that she was beautiful, and to tell her 
 that she was so, in whatever courtly forms the 
 intimation might be conveyed, was no way of 
 winning her favour. It was the general mode, 
 however, adopted by the young nobles who fre- 
 quented the Court of England, and were admit- 
 ted to her father's house. They thought they 
 could never too much praise her loveliness or 
 extol her grace. It was the custom of the 
 day, the only mode of winning lady's love then 
 known ; and the world were much surprised to 
 find that for one or two years she remained very 
 cold and insensible to all who strove by such 
 means to raise a warmer feeling in her bosom. 
 
 During the greater part of that time the 
 House of Monthermer had been at open enmity 
 with that of Ashby, and Hugh himself was the 
 object of many a bitter and an angry speech on 
 the part both of her father and her brother. Now 
 it may seem that the f«iir lady wac a little ani- 
 mated by the spirit of contradiction, when v\c 
 
222 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 acknowledge that the hatred which her faniily 
 entertained towards the young Lord Hugh was 
 one of the first causes that created in Lucy's 
 bosom a feehng in his favour. But the reader 
 must not forget, Lucy had no reason to sup- 
 pose that the animosity of her family was well- 
 founded, or their harsh censure just. On 
 the contrary, from every indifferent person 
 whom she was inclined to respect and esteem, 
 she heard the highest praises of him whom her 
 father and brother delighted to decry. She 
 saw, also, that they themselves had no slight dif- 
 ficulty in finding matter for blame in the con- 
 duct of the rival house ; and when occasionally 
 the two famihes met, either at the Court or at 
 any of the chivalrous pageants of the day, it 
 seemed to her that in demeanour, at least, Hugh 
 de Monthermer was very different from that 
 which the voice of angry passion represented 
 him. All these things sunk into her mind; 
 and although she said nothing upon the sub- 
 ject, but remained equally silent when he was 
 condemned or praised, the conviction forced it- 
 self upon her that he was the object of injus- 
 tice ; and where is the woman's heart without 
 
FOREST DAYS, 223 
 
 that latent chivalry which instantly takes arms 
 in favour of the oppressed ? 
 
 Thus went on the history of Lucy's love till 
 that reconciliation was brought about between 
 the famihes, of Avhich we have already spoken. 
 Circumstances then led them into frequent com- 
 munication, and a great change took place in 
 her father's opinion of the young lord. He 
 made no longer any difficulty of acknowledging 
 that Hugh was one of the most distinguished 
 gentlemen of the day ; and though her brother 
 Alured did not forget his enmity so easily — for 
 in his case there was a touchof envious jealousy 
 in it — yet he suffered the motives too plainly to 
 appear ; and Lucy, seeing, esteeming, and ad- 
 miring, had always ready a champion in her 
 own breast to defend the cause of Hugh de 
 Monthermer. Had anything been wanting to 
 lead her onward to that state in which the whole 
 heart is given — where there is no retreat, and 
 where all other sensations are swallowed up in 
 love — some of the events of the first few months 
 succeeding the reconciliation of the two families 
 would have speedily furnished it. 
 
 For some time Hugh de Monthermer paid 
 
224 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 only such attention to Lucy de Ashby as the 
 courtesy of the day required. She was certainly 
 surprised — perhaps a little disappointed, that 
 the only man for whose admiration she had 
 ever wished, should not at once be captivated 
 by her beauty, as others had been. Many a 
 woman, under such circumstances, would have 
 thrown out every hu'e, would have used every 
 art to win his attention ; but Lucy did not so : 
 she retired to her own chamber, and fell into 
 deep meditation. "He may love some one else,'* 
 she said to herself, and as she said so, she felt 
 inclined to weep ; but she repressed her tears, 
 and determined never to let her thoughts rest 
 for a moment upon him again. She chid her- 
 self for unwomanly rashness, even for the pre- 
 ference she felt ; but with poor Lucy the time for 
 good resolutions or self-chiding to be of any 
 avail, was past. She loved already — loved truly, 
 and those who have so loved, will know that, 
 like the garment imbued with the blood of 
 Nessus, true affection, when once it clothes the 
 human heart, can never be torn off, and that 
 even in the effort to do so the very veins and 
 flesh arc rent away along with it. 
 
FOKEST DAYS. 22 
 
 ^O 
 
 She was not destined long to suffer any doubt, 
 however: a single day brought her rehef, and 
 changed sorrow into joy. The Earl of Mon- 
 thcrmer and his nephew were then at her 
 father's castle of Lindwell, enjoying the sports 
 of the brown autumn, and cementing the newly- 
 revived friendship between the two houses in 
 the intimate communication of domestic life. 
 The day after she had indulged in the me- 
 lancholy thoughts, and made all the vain reso- 
 lutions, and addressed to her own heart the 
 idle reproaches we have mentioned, Hugh and 
 Lucy were seated, next each other at the table, 
 and at first their conversation was cold and 
 commonplace. At length, however, as so often 
 happens, something was said — some accidental 
 word — some mere casual observation — some sen- 
 tence, apparently as light as air, but accompanied 
 by smile, or glance, or tone, indicative of feelings 
 deeper than the words imphed, and the heart of 
 each seemed to open to the other as if by magic. 
 
 I recollect once visiting a house where the 
 scenery around appeared tame and monotonous 
 enough. The rooms were stately, fine pictures 
 l3 
 
226 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 hung upon the walls, and many objects of art 
 and interest lay scattered round, but still when 
 one looked forth there was nothing beautiful 
 before the eye, till suddenly, in a dark, dull 
 chamber, in a remote part of the mansion, 
 a servant drew back a blind from a small 
 window, and one of the most magnificent scenes 
 in nature burst instantly upon the view. 
 
 What it was that Lucy de Ashby said to 
 Hugh de Monthermer I know not, but it drew 
 back the veil from her heart and showed him a 
 new world, such as he had never dreamt was near 
 at hand. He had certainly not been without 
 warm admiration of her beauty: he had felt its 
 power, and somewhat dreaded its effects ; but 
 the master spell was now added, and the har- 
 mony between her person and her mind left 
 him no power to resist. His whole manner 
 towards her changed at once ; admiration and 
 regard were thenceforward in every look and in 
 every tone ; the whole of the day passed over in 
 bright interchange of thoughts and feelings ; and 
 when Lucy laid her head down upon her pillow, 
 her brain reeled with the memory of a thousand 
 
FOREST DAYS. 227 
 
 sweet sensations crowded into the short space 
 of a few hours. 
 
 Her brother was absent — there is reason to 
 beheve purposely — and on the following day 
 her father's horse fell in the chase and injured 
 him, though not dangerously. It was Hugh who 
 brought her the tidings, who soothed her appre- 
 hensions, who calmed and consoled her, and 
 every hour added something to the intimacy that 
 grew up between them. They rode forth in the 
 woods together, they walked side by side upon 
 the battlements ; and, though the words of love 
 that might be spoken, were all vague and 
 shadowy, yet each understood the feelings of 
 the other ; and Hugh only waited till the friend- 
 ship of their houses should be more confirmed, 
 to demand the hand of Lucy as a new bond 
 of union between their families. 
 
 The man who delays even for an hour in 
 love is a fool, or has no experience. The latter 
 was the case of Hugh de Monthermer. Had he 
 asked for Lucy de Ashby then, the old Earl 
 would have granted her to him at once ; but in 
 a few days Alured dc Ashby returned, bringing 
 his cousin Richard with him j and it soon be 
 
228 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 came evident to the lover that the favourable 
 moment was past for the time. 
 
 Such is the history of the affection which had 
 grown up between Hugh and Lucy to the time 
 when last they parted. Some months had in- 
 tervened, and it may well be supposed that it 
 was not a little soothing to the sweet girl's 
 heart to mark that strain of tenderness which, 
 as we have said, ran through the whole of Hugh 
 de Monthermer's story. So pleasant was it, 
 iiideed, that for a short time the disappoint- 
 ment of her hopes of deliverance was forgot- 
 ten in the gratification of other feelings. She 
 paused and mused; but at length her mind re- 
 verted to the more painful consideration. She 
 at once saw, when she reflected on all he had 
 just told her, that Hugh was bound by his pro- 
 mise to the Outlaw to take no step whatever to 
 set her free. He had sworn that all he beheld and 
 heard there should be to him as if it were not ; 
 and Lucy herself had too much of the chival- 
 rous spirit in her nature to wish that one she 
 loved should ever evade, even were it possible, 
 the sincere execution of an engagement he had 
 formed. She looked in his face for a moment 
 
FOREST DAYS. 229 
 
 or two in bileiice, and in the end asked him 
 simply, " What then do you intend to do ?" 
 
 '* Good faith, dear lady," he replied, " I see 
 but one thing to be done, which is, as I cannot 
 take you away with me, to stay here with you ; 
 and, if this terrible enchanter of Sherwood will 
 not set you free, why we must spend our days 
 here under the green leaves, chasing the wild 
 deer, and singing the hours away." 
 
 Lucy smiled gaily, for the images were not 
 unpleasant ones that Hugh de Monthermcr's 
 reply called up. She thought it would be a 
 very happy life ; and if those sad bonds of cir- 
 cumstances which continually tie down the no- 
 blest energies of the mind and the best and 
 strongest feelings of the heart had permitted it, 
 she would willingly have cast off high rank and 
 station, and all the gawds and gewgaws of so- 
 ciety, to remain with Hugh de Monthermer in 
 the forest of Sherwood and pass the rest of her 
 days in low estate. 
 
 His reply threw her into a new fit of musing, 
 however, and their farther conversation was in- 
 terrupted, for the moment, by the pretty maid, 
 Cicely, calling their attention to the supper, 
 
230 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 which was spread upon the table. The two 
 lovers sat down side by side ; Lucy's maidens 
 took their seats opposite, and the meal passed 
 over partly in gay, partly in serious conversa- 
 tion ; but, between Lucy and Hugh, there was 
 of course a degree of restraint from the presence 
 of others, which was sufficiently evident to 
 those who caused it. 
 
 There is a general sympathy in every woman's 
 heart for love, but, of course, that sympathy is 
 more active in the young, who feel, than in the 
 old, who only remember the passion. With 
 unchilled hearts ready to thrill at the first touch, 
 Lucy de Ashby's two maids having so lately 
 been enlightened fully in regard to their mis- 
 tress's feelings for Hugh de Monthermer, were 
 only anxious for an excuse to leave the lady and 
 her lover alone ; and not finding any ready to 
 their hand, they dispensed with all pretexts 
 whatever, first the one and then the other quit- 
 ting the room, and betaking themselves to the 
 sleeping-chamber which had been assigned to 
 them and their lady. 
 
 There can be but little doubt that Lucy was 
 well satisfied with their departure ; but yet a 
 
FOREST DAYS. 231 
 
 sort of timid panic took possession of her, and 
 she had well-nigh called them back. The next 
 moment she smiled at her own fears, and would 
 have given a great deal to renew the conver- 
 sation, which had come to a sudden halt, upon 
 some indi^erent topic; but words were wanting, 
 and Lucy sat with the colour a little heightened 
 in her cheek, and the silky fringes of her soft 
 dark eyes drooping so as to veil half their light. 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer gazed at her with ad- 
 miration and love, and although he felt very 
 certain that she was not without her share of 
 tenderness towards him, he determined to make 
 " assurance double sure," and not lose the op- 
 portunity which fortune had presented. 
 
 " Well, Lucy," he said, breaking the long 
 pause at length, " as I cannot deliver you, shall 
 I remain with you to protect you ?" 
 
 " Assuredly !" she answered, covering a cer- 
 tain degree of agitation with a gay look, " you 
 are a faithless knight, even to dream of quitting 
 a lady in this enchanted castle ! Did you not 
 say that you were to stay here ; and that we were 
 to live a woodland life — chasing the wild deer, 
 and making the groves and dells echo with our 
 
Z6Z FOREST DAYS. 
 
 horns? I declare it is quite delightful to 
 think of !" 
 
 " And you are to be my lady, and I am to be 
 your knight ?" asked the lover. " Is it not so, 
 Lucy ?" 
 
 " To be sure !" replied his fair companion. 
 " I will have you my most devoted servant, as 
 in duty bound. You shall train my hawks for 
 me, and teach my dogs, and ride by my side, 
 and be ever ready to couch your lance in my 
 defence. In short, as I have said, you shall be 
 my very humble servant on all occasions." 
 
 " And nothing more ?" inquired Hugh de 
 Monthermer. " May I not sometimes have a 
 dearer title ?" Lucy blushed deeply and was 
 silent, and Hugh de Monthermer went on ; 
 " May I not be called your lover, Lucy ? — may I 
 not some time, perhaps, be called your husband ? 
 Dear girl," he continued, taking her hand, 
 which trembled a little in his, — " Dear girl, if 
 we are to remain here, depend upon it, we shall 
 soon have to look for a priest in the forest. 
 What say you, Lucy, shall it be so?" 
 
 Lucy crushed a bright drop through her eye- 
 lashes, and giving her pretty brow a wild fawn- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 233 
 
 like shake, she turned her glowing face towards 
 him with a look of gay daring, saying, " I dare 
 say we could find one, Hugh, if it were needful." 
 
 Her lover drew her somewhat nearer to him, 
 whispering a few low words in her ear. 
 
 " Hush, hush !" she said, " be satisfied, I 
 will tell you no more !" 
 
 " But hsten, dearest Lucy," said Hugh de 
 Monthermer, " we have here a few moments to 
 ourselves : it may be long ere we have the same 
 again. It is right that we should clearly un- 
 derstand how we are placed. I love you, dearest 
 Lucy, as well as woman was ever loved ! Do 
 you believe me ?" 
 
 " I dare say you do," replied Lucy, laughing, 
 " I think it is quite natural you should — How 
 could you help yourself, poor youth ?" 
 
 " And you love me as much, Lucy," added 
 the young knight. " Is it not so?" 
 
 " No !" cried Lucy, " I hate you ! You 
 know it quite well, and I shall hate you still 
 more if you tease me about it !" 
 
 " Hate me in the same way ever," replied 
 Hugh dc Monthermer, kissing her cheek, " and 
 
234 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 I will forgive you, my sweet mistress. — But the 
 case is this, Lucy," he added, in graver tone ; 
 " there are difficulties and dangers before us. 
 Why they have brought you here, I do not know. 
 How long they may keep you, I cannot tell ; but 
 the moment that I dare to leave you, I must 
 march with all speed towards Wales. Battle 
 and peril are in my way — perhaps I may never 
 see you more. A thousand evils may occur, a 
 thousand dark mischances may separate us for 
 long, if not for ever, and I would fain " 
 
 " Say no more, Hugh, say no more," cried 
 Lucy, at once rendered serious by his words ; 
 '^ I do love you, if it will make you happy to 
 hear it. I have never loved any but you — 
 There, I can say no more, can I ?" 
 
 Hugh rewarded the confession as such an 
 acknowledgment may best be rewarded; but 
 still he went on, after a few minutes, in the 
 same tone. 
 
 " No one can tell, dear girl," he proceeded, 
 " what events the future may have in store ; but 
 I see clouds gathering in the sky, portending 
 storms which may well dash down the blossom 
 
FOREST DAYS. 235 
 
 of our hopes, if we put it not under shelter. 
 What I mean is, that we must not fancy our 
 affection will meet with no opposition." 
 
 " But my father loves you, Hugh," exclaimed 
 Lucy ; " he loves, esteems, and praises you." 
 
 " But your brother does not," replied her 
 lover. "It is in vain, Lucy, that I have tried 
 to soften Alured's feelings, it is in vain that I have 
 sought his regard, by every honest means that a 
 true heart could take. Still he loves me not; 
 and I am apprehensive lest in the coming 
 events some cause of dissension should arise, 
 which might induce him, and perhaps your 
 father also, to endeavour to separate us for ever." 
 
 Lucy bent down her eyes thoughtfully, and 
 remained for several moments without answer- 
 ing. " One cannot resist the will of a father," 
 she said, at length, "but I am not bound to 
 obey the will of a brother. What is it you 
 would have me to do, Hugh ? — I am in a 
 foohsh mood for complying,'' she added, with a 
 smile. " I know not w^hat you men would do, 
 if we women did not sometimes become as soft 
 as wax when the sun shines on it." 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer paused, for there was 
 
236 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 a strong temptation at his heart, and, to say the 
 truth, he could scarcely resist it. He saw that 
 Lucy was in a yielding mood — he saw that, 
 taking advantage of the opportunity, he might, 
 perhaps, win her even to give him her hand at 
 once. There were excuses for such a step, which, 
 probably, no other moment would furnish. In 
 a situation of danger and captivity, where she 
 required the protection of one invested with some 
 sacred right — far from her own relatives, and 
 having every reason to believe that her father 
 would approve her choice, a thousand motives 
 for yielding to such a request might easily be 
 urged ; and when pleaded by the voice of love 
 would doubtless prevail. 
 
 These were strong temptations to Hugh de 
 Monthermer, whose heart was not of the most 
 icy nature ; but, on the other hand, there were 
 those chivalrous feelings of honour in which he 
 had been educated, which but too few, indeed, of 
 the nobles of his own day entertained, but which 
 were rooted in his mind as principles that even 
 passion could not overthrow. He demanded of 
 himself. Would it be honourable ? would it be 
 just? — Treated with kindness and trust as he had 
 
FOREST DAYS. 237 
 
 lately been by the Earl of Ashby, ought he not 
 to return confidence for confidence, and boldly 
 ask her father for Lucy's hand without taking 
 advantage of her unprotected situation to induce 
 her to grant what might otherwise be refused ? 
 
 " It is like stealing a treasure," said Hugh to 
 himself, " which we have found by chance, but 
 which we know belongs to another man." 
 
 Lucy looked up, wondering that he did not 
 reply ; and her lover, believing that he risked 
 nothing to show her both the passion which was 
 in his heart, and the principles which restrained 
 that passion, answered, at length, " Dear girl, I 
 am sorely tempted — tempted to ask you to be 
 mine at once — tempted to ask j'^ou to send for 
 that same priest we talked of but now, and to 
 give me this fair hand before we quit these 
 greenwood shades." 
 
 " Nay, nay, Hugh," cried Lucy, colouring 
 brightly. 
 
 " Hear me, Lucy," said her lover ; " I only 
 said I was sorely tempted ; but I know I must 
 not yield. Yet one thing, Lucy, I may seek, and 
 that fairly, for it is what I would ask were we 
 now in the midst of the gayest hall, — ay ! or in 
 
238 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 that sweet oriel window of your father's castle, 
 where we have whiled away so many an hour 
 with idle words that covered deeper thoughts 
 within. Will you promise to be mine ? — Will 
 you promise to be mine whatever betide ?" 
 
 Lucy gazed somewhat sadly in his face — 
 " Sooner or later, Hugh," she said ; " sooner or 
 later, I will. I must not resist my father's will. 
 If he oppose, I must obey so far, as to deny you 
 for the time ; but never — believe me, Hugh, for 
 I promise by all I hold most sacred — never shall 
 this hand rest as a bride in that of another man. 
 They can but send me to a convent ; and that 
 my father will not do, for I know that often, 
 when my brother's rash mood frets him and 
 brings a cloud over the calm evening sunshine 
 of his days, he finds a comfort in my presence, 
 which he would not willingly be without." 
 
 " But, dear Lucy," said Hugh, " were your 
 father dead, might not your brother doom you 
 to the dark cold shade of the cloister ?" 
 
 ^' He cannot, Hugh — he dare not !" re- 
 plied Lucy. " He has no power. The lands I 
 hold are not from him, nor from the King of 
 England. However* they might strip me of 
 
FOREST DAYS. 239 
 
 them, Hugh, it is true, and Lucy de Ashby 
 might be a dowerless bride, but " 
 
 " But the more welcome, dearest Lucy !" re- 
 phed Hugh. " Would that your father even now 
 would give me this fair hand, with nothing on it 
 but the ring that makes you mine ! and should 
 the time ever come when, after his death, your 
 brother opposes our union, but bring me that 
 sweet smile, and the kind word, ' Yes,' at 
 the altar, and I shall think my Lucy dowered 
 well enough." 
 
 " It is sad, Hugh," said Lucy, " even to look 
 forward to future joys when one of those we 
 love shall be no longer here ; and, therefore, I 
 will still trust that my father's eyes may see 
 our wedding, and his voice give us a blessing. 
 But my proud brother, Alured, shall never 
 stand between you and me. — Hark ! there are 
 steps upon the stairs !'' she exclaimed ; " before 
 they come, let me bind myself by bonds that 
 cannot be broken. — I promise you that, sooner 
 or later, I will be yours, Hugh ; and that I will 
 never be the bride of another ; so help me Hea- 
 ven at my need !" 
 
240 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 All the principal streets of the old town of 
 Hereford were thronged with personages of va- 
 rious conditions and degrees, towards the evening 
 of one of those soft, but cloudy summer days, 
 when the sun makes his full warmth felt, but 
 without the glare which dazzles the eye when he 
 shines unveiled upon the world. That street, 
 however, to which we shall conduct the reader, 
 was narrow, so that not more than three or four 
 horsemen could ride abreast, and yet it was one 
 of the best in the town. But, in reality, the space 
 for passengers was much wider than it seemed ; 
 for, as was then very common, especially upon 
 the frontiers of Wales, one half of the ground- 
 floor of the houses was taken up by a long, 
 open arcade, which sheltered the pedestrians 
 
FOREST DAYS. 241 
 
 from the rain at some periods of the year, 
 and from the heat at others. From the first 
 floors of these houses — just high enough to 
 allow a tall horse, mounted by a tall man with 
 a lance in his hand to pass, without striking the 
 head of the cavalier or the weapon he carried — 
 projected long poles, usually gilt ; and suspended 
 therefrom appeared many of the various signs 
 wliich are now restricted to inns and taverns, 
 but were then common to every mansion of any 
 importance. 
 
 Down this street, and underneath innumerable 
 symbols of swans, and horses, and eagles, and 
 mermaids, and falcons, and doves, and of all 
 those heterogeneous mixtures of birds, beasts, 
 and fishes, which the fertile fancy of man ever 
 confounded, were riding, at the time I speak of, 
 various groups of horsemen, while ever and anon 
 the progress of one party or another would be 
 stopped by some man, woman, or child, darting- 
 out from the arcade at the side, and holding fi 
 conversation, short or long, as the circumstances 
 might be, with one of the equestrians. 
 
 Amongst other groups in the gay and ani- 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 mated scene, was one which remained ungreeted 
 by any of the good people of the town, but 
 which was suffered to pass along uninterrupted 
 till it reached a second-rate inn, called the May- 
 pole. It consisted of four human beings and 
 three beasts — namely, three men and a woman, 
 two horses, and a sleek, vicious-looking mule. On 
 one of the horses was mounted a tall sturdy man 
 in the guise of a servant ; on the other was evi- 
 dently a fellow-labourer in the same vineyard ; 
 but he was not alone, for on a pillion behind him 
 appeared a female form, covered with a thick 
 veil which shrouded the face, so that it was ini- 
 possifele to see whether there was beauty beneath 
 or not, although the figure gave indications of 
 youth and grace which were not to be mistaken. 
 Jogging along upon the mule, with his legs 
 hanging down easily by the side of the animal, 
 and his fat stomach resting peacefully upon the 
 saddle, was a jolly friar, clothed in grey, with 
 his capuche thrown back, the sun not being 
 troublesome, and a bald head — the glistening- 
 smoothness of which had descended by tradition 
 even to Shakspeare's days, and was recorded 
 
FOREST DAYS. 243 
 
 by him in his Two Gentlemen of Verona — 
 peeping out from a narrow ring of jet black 
 hair, scarcely streaked with grey. 
 
 His face was large and jovial, which, in good 
 sooth, was no distinction in those times between 
 one friar and another ; but there was withal a 
 look of roguish fun about the corners of his small 
 grey eyes ; and a jeering smile, full of arch satire, 
 quivered upon his upper lip, completely neu- 
 tralizing the somewhat sensual and food-loving 
 expression of the under one, which moved up 
 and down every time he spoke, like a valve, 
 to let out the words that could never come in 
 again. Indeed, he seemed to be one of those 
 easy-living friars who, knowing neither sorrow 
 nor privation in their own persons, appeared to 
 look upon grief and care with a ready laugh 
 and a light joke, as if no such things in re- 
 ality exist. His rosy gills, his double chin, 
 and his large round ear, all spoke of marrow 
 and fatness ; and, indeed, at the very first sight, 
 the spectator saw that he was not only a well- 
 contented being, but one who had good reason 
 to be so. 
 
 m2 
 
244 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Just as they reached the entrance of the 
 tavern which we have mentioned, the friar, by 
 some mismanagement, contrived to get his mule's 
 hindquarters towards the servant, who was riding 
 singly on horseback, and by a touch of the 
 lieel, given, apparently, to make the beast put 
 itself into a more convenient position for all 
 parties, he produced a violent fit of kicking, in 
 the course of which the horseman received a 
 blow upon the fleshy part of his thigh, which 
 made him roar with pain. The seat upon the 
 vicious beast's back was no easy one, but yet the 
 fat monk kept his position, laughing heartily, and 
 calling his mule a petulant rogue, while he held 
 him by his left ear, or patted his pampered neck. 
 As soon as the fit was done, he rolled quietly off 
 at the side, and looking up to his companion, 
 saw, or appeared to see, for the first time, the 
 v/ry faces which the servant man was making. 
 
 " Bless my heart !" he cried, " has he touched 
 thee, the good-for-nothing rogue ? I will chas- 
 tise him for it soundly." 
 
 " If he have not broke my leg it is not his 
 fault," replied the man, dismounting, and 
 
FOREST DAYS. 245 
 
 limping round bis horse ; *' and you have as 
 great a share in it, mad priest, for bringing his 
 heels round where they had no business to be." 
 
 ** Nay,** rejoined the friar, " I brought not 
 his heels round, he brought them himself, and 
 me along with them. It was all intended to cast 
 me off ; so the offence is towards myself, and I 
 shall punish him severely. He shall have five 
 barley-corns of food less for his misbehaviour." 
 
 " Psha !" said the serving-man, looking up at 
 the inn. '' You are jesting foully, friar ; I am 
 sorry I let you join us. Is this the hostel you 
 boasted had such good wine ? It seems but a 
 poor place for such commendation." 
 
 " Thou shalt find the liquor better than in any 
 house in Hereford," replied he of the grey gown ; 
 *' whether you choose mead, or metheglin, or 
 excellent warm Burgundy, or cool Bordeaux. 
 Taste and try — taste and try ; and if you find 
 that I have deceived you, you shall cut me into 
 pieces not an inch square, and sow me along 
 the high road ! There is good lodging, too. — 
 Canst thou not trust a friar ?" 
 
 The man grumbled forth some reply not very 
 
246 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 laudatory of the order to which his fat friend 
 belonged ; and in a few minutes after, the whole 
 party were seated in a hall, which, for the time 
 being, lacked other tenants. The usual hour of 
 supper was over, and in many a hostelry of 
 those days the wayfarers would have found no 
 food in such a case, unless they brought it with 
 them. But the host was a compassionate man, 
 and, moreover, knew right well the twinkle of 
 the jolly friar's eye, so that, for old friendship's 
 sake, many a savoury mess was speedily set before 
 them, together with a large flagon of wine, 
 which fully bore out the character that had been 
 given to it by the friar as they rode along. 
 
 Under the influence of such consolations, the 
 serving-man forgot his bruise; and the lady, 
 laying aside her veil, shewed a pretty face, with 
 which the reader is in some part acquainted, being 
 none other than that which, once happy and 
 bright, graced the door of the little village inn 
 under the name of Kate Greenly. There was 
 some sadness upon that fair countenance — the 
 cheerful smile was gone, although there was a 
 smile of a different character still left. The 
 
FOREST DAYS. 247 
 
 freshness, the ease, the lightness, were all want- 
 ing ; though there was greater depth of thought 
 andfeeling in the expression than during the plea- 
 sant days of village sport and girlish coquetry. 
 The rough touch of passion had brushed the 
 bloom from the fruit, and Kate Greenly, in look 
 at least, was three or four years older than a few 
 weeks before. 
 
 As she put aside her veil to take part in the 
 meal, the eye of the friar fixed upon her, till 
 she reddened under his gaze, looking half angry, 
 lialf abashed ; but the moment after, the colour 
 became deeper still, when he said, " Methinks, 
 fair lady, I have seen that sweet face before." 
 
 " Perhaps so," she replied — " I cannot tell. 
 There's many a wandering friar comes to my 
 father's door ; but I heed them not, good sooth." 
 
 The friar laughed, answering gaily — 
 
 " Beauty, fair girl, is like the sun- 
 Is marked by all, but marketh none." 
 
 " Try some of these stewed eels, pretty one ; 
 they are worthy of the Wye, whose waters have 
 no mud to give them a foul flavour. Try them — 
 
248 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 try them — ^they are good for the complexion ; 
 and now, Master Serving-man, what think you 
 of the wine ? Did you ever taste better out of 
 the spare tankard which the butler hideth behind 
 the cellar door ?" 
 
 The serving-man was forced to admit that he 
 had seldom drunk such good liquor, and gra- 
 dually getting over the ill humour which had 
 been sharpened by a lurking suspicion that the 
 heels of the mule had been turned towards him 
 by human agency rather than the brute's own 
 obstinacy, enjoyed his supper, and laughed and 
 talked with the friar till the wine seemed to 
 mount somewhat into the brain of both. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the light-o'-love, Kate 
 Greenly, sat by for some three quarters of an 
 hour, melancholy in the midst of mirth. The 
 thoughts of home had been called up in her 
 heart by the monk's words — the thoughts of 
 home and happy innocence ! and she now found 
 that in giving up every treasure with which 
 Heaven had gifted her lot, for one trinket that 
 she could not always wear upon her hand, she 
 had made a mighty sacrifice for an uncertain 
 
FOREST DAYS. 
 
 249 
 
 reward. The only object that could console her 
 was away ; and after enduring for the space of 
 time we have mentioned the pangs of others' 
 mirth, she rose, and said she would seek her 
 chamber, as they had to proceed early. 
 
 The two sei'ving-men sat idly at the table, 
 leaving her to find her way alone, for they re- 
 verenced but little their master's leman ; but the 
 jovial fot friar started up from his seat with an 
 activity which he seemed little capable of, saying, 
 " Stay, stay, pretty one — I will call my host or 
 hostess to you. They are worthy, kind people, 
 as ever lived," and he walked side by side with 
 her towards the door. 
 
 Had the eyes of her two companions been 
 upon her, they would have seen her start as she 
 was quitting the room with the friar; but their 
 looks were directed to the tankard which was 
 passing between them, and in a moment after^ 
 the rich full voice of the grey gown was heard 
 calling for the host and hostess. In another 
 instant he rolled back into the room, and re- 
 suming his place at the table, did as much justice 
 as any one to the good wine of the Maypole. 
 m3 
 
250 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 ^^ Here's to thy lord, whosoever he may be l" 
 cried the friar, addressing the serving-man whom 
 his mule had kicked. *' God prosper his good deeds, 
 and frustrate his bad ones, if he commits any I" 
 
 " I'll not drink that,'' replied the worthy who 
 had carried Kate Greenly behind him. " I say, 
 God prosper my master, and all his works — 
 good, bad, and indifferent. I have no business 
 to take exceptions." 
 
 " Tut, man, drink the toast, and sing us a 
 song !" cried he of the grey gown. 
 
 *« Sing first, thyself, fat friar," answered the 
 serving-man. 
 
 The friar rejoined, " That I will !" and after 
 taking another deep draught, lie poured forth, 
 in full mellow strains, the well-known old song, 
 
 " In a tavern let me die, 
 And a bottle near me lye, 
 That the angelic choir may cry, 
 God's blessing on the toper !" 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 The song was much applauded, and as both 
 the friar's companions were now sufficiently im- 
 bued with drink to be ready for any species of 
 
FOREST DAYS. 251 
 
 jollity, the same musical propensity "seized upon 
 them both in turn, and they poured forth a 
 couple of strains, which, if they could be found 
 written down in the exact terms in which they 
 were sung, might well be considered as invalu- 
 able specimens of the English poetry of that 
 early age. As they had no great tendency to 
 edification, however, and contained more ri- 
 baldry than wit, the gentle reader will probably 
 excuse their omission in this place. 
 
 While thus with mirth and revelry three out 
 of the personages whom we saw arrive at the 
 inn passed more than one hour of the night, 
 the fourth was ushered to a chamber hung with 
 dark-painted cloth, while a lamp placed in the 
 window shewed a deep recess projecting over 
 the street, and making, as it were, a room within 
 the room. The hostess accompanied Kate 
 Greenly to her apartment, and for some time 
 bustled about, seeing that all was in order, 
 much to the poor girl's discomfort. In vain she 
 assured the good landlady that she had all she 
 wanted ; in vain she expressed weariness and a 
 desire to retire to bed : still the hostess found 
 something to set to rightS; some table to place. 
 
252 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 some slool to dust, while ever and anon she de- 
 clared that her girls were slatterns, and lier 
 chamberlain a lazy knave. At length she turned 
 towards the door, and Kate Greenly thought 
 that she was going to be freed from her pre- 
 sence ; but it was only to call for her husband, 
 and to tell him, at the top of her voice, that he 
 was " wonderful slow.'* 
 
 The poor girl could bear it no longer, but 
 approaching the deep recess, where the lamp 
 stood in the window, she mounted the two little 
 steps, which separated it from the rest of the 
 room, and standing close to the light, unfolded 
 a paper which she held in her hand. At first 
 she could scarcely see the words which were 
 written therein, but shading her eyes with her 
 hand, she gazed intently on the lines, and 
 read, — 
 
 " Return to your father ; leave him not 
 broken-hearted with shame and sorrow ! If you 
 are willing to go back, I will soon find means ; 
 for I have more help at hand than you wot of. 
 Say but one word to the hostess, and ere day- 
 light to-morrow you shcill be on the way to 
 
FOREST DAYS. 253 
 
 Barnesdale. As I know the whole, so I tell you 
 tliat the last hope is before you. IF you go back 
 you may have peace and ease, though you have 
 cast away happiness ; if you go forward, you 
 may have a few hours of joy, but a long life of 
 misery, neglect, destitution, and despair, without 
 the hope of this world or the hope of the next. 
 
 '' The Friar." 
 
 Kate trembled very much, and her whole 
 thoughts seemed to refuse all direction or con- 
 trol ; but at that moment the host of the May- 
 pole himself appeared, bearing a small silver 
 chalice of warm wine, and a plate filled with 
 many-coloured comfits. 
 
 ^' I pray you, taste the sleeping-cup," he said, 
 approaching his fair guest; and as she mecha- 
 nically followed the common custom of the day 
 in taking the cup, putting a few comfits in, and 
 raising it for an instant to her lips, she saw the 
 eyes of both her companions fix upon her coun- 
 tenance with a look of interest and inquiry, and 
 perceived at a glance that they also had, in some 
 way, been made acquainted with her history. 
 
254 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 The burning glow of shame — the first time 
 that she had felt it fully — came into Kate 
 Greenly 's cheek, but it only roused her pride; 
 and instead of trampling that viper of the hu- 
 man heart under her feet, after a moment's 
 pause to recover herself, she said, with the look 
 and air of a queen— 
 
 *' I want nothing more. You may go ! If I 
 want aught else, I will call." 
 
 The host and hostess retired, wishing her 
 good night ; but she thought she saw upon the 
 man's lip one of those maddening smiles which 
 say more than words, but do not admit of reply. 
 
 The moment they were gone she clasped her 
 hands together, and burst into tears — tears, not 
 calm and soothing ; tears, not bitter and purify- 
 ing ; but tears of fierce and passionate anger at 
 meeting, perhaps, kinder treatment than she 
 deserved. Seating herself upon the step to the 
 window, she sobbed for a few minutes with un- 
 controllable vehemence ; and then, starting up, 
 she approached the lamp, and once more read 
 the lines she had received. 
 
 They seemed to change the current of her 
 
FOREST DAYS. 255 
 
 thoughts again, for her eye fixed upon vacancy, 
 the paper dropped from her hand, and once or 
 twice she uttered, in a low, solemn voice, the 
 word " Return !" 
 
 *' Oh no !" she cried at length, «* no; I can- 
 not return. What ! return to my father's 
 house, with every object that my eyes could 
 light upon crying out upon me, and telling me 
 what I was once, and what I am now, — to have 
 the jeers and smiles and nods of my companions, 
 and be pointed at as the light-o'-love and the 
 wanton ! — to be marked in the walk, and in the 
 church, to be shunned like a leper, to be pitied 
 by those who hate me most, and looked cold 
 upon by those who loved me ! No, no, no ! I 
 can never return. There is no return in life 
 from any course that we have once taken. — I 
 feel it, I know it now. We may strive hard, 
 we may look back, we may stretch forth our arms 
 towards the place from which we set out ; but 
 we can never reach it again, struggle however 
 we may. No, no ; I must forward ! I have 
 chosen my path, I have sealed my own fate, 
 and by it I must abide !" 
 
 She paused and thought for several minutes. 
 
256 rOREST DAYS. 
 
 and as she did so, it would seem, the fears and 
 apprehensions, die doubts and anxieties, that dog 
 the steps of sin, the hell-hounds that are ever 
 ready to fall upon their prey the moment that 
 lassitude overtakes it on its onward course, 
 seized upon the heart of poor Kate Greenly 
 with their envenomed teeth. 
 
 Yes, you may struggle on, poor thing ; you 
 may burst away, for an instant, from the fangs 
 that hold, you may get a fresh start and run on, 
 thinking that you have distanced them, but those 
 fell pursuers, Fear and Apprehension, Doubt 
 and Anxiety, are still behind you, and shall 
 hunt you unto death ! 
 
 They were now, for the first time, tearing the 
 sides of their victim ; and the shapes they as- 
 sumed may be discovered by the words that 
 broke from her in her mental agony — " He will 
 never surely abandon me ! — -he will never surely 
 ill-treat me I after all that he has promised, after 
 all that he has told me, after all that he has 
 sworn ! He will never surely be so base, so 
 utterly base ! — and yet why has he not come on 
 with me ? Why, after two poor days' com- 
 panionship, send me on with serving-men ? If 
 
FOREST DAYS. 257 
 
 he needs must to London, why not take me with 
 him ? — But no," she continued, soothing herself 
 with fond hopes ; " no, it cannot be ; he has 
 some weighty business on hand requiring instant 
 dispatch. Doubtless his journey was too swift 
 and fatiguing for a woman. — Oh, yes, he will 
 come back to me soon. — Perhaps he is already 
 at his castle — perhaps I may see him to-morrow:" 
 and she clapped her pretty hands with joy at the 
 happiness which imagination had called up. 
 
 At that moment, however, by one of those 
 strange turns of thought which the mind some- 
 times suddenly takes, whether we will or not — 
 like a bird struggling away from the hand that 
 would hold it — the image of poor Ralph Har- 
 land rose up before her, and the satisfoction she 
 felt at the idea of again seeing her seducer, 
 seemed to contrast itself painfully in imagination 
 with the anguish which he must endure at never 
 beholding more the object of his earliest love, 
 and knowing that she was in the arms of another. 
 
 " What," she asked herself, '' what would be 
 my own feelings under such circumstances?" 
 and the answer which naturally sprang to her 
 lips from the eager and passionate heart that 
 
258 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 beat within her bosom, was, " I should kill 
 some one and die !" 
 
 The contemplation, however, was too painful ; 
 she would think of it no more. Sorrow and 
 repentance had not yet sufficiently taken hold 
 of her, to render it difficult for Kate Greenly 
 to cast away thought with the usual lightness of 
 her nature, and she answered the reproaches of 
 conscience, as usually happens, with a falsehood. 
 
 " Oh, he will soon find some one to console 
 him!" she said; and for fear of her own better 
 judgment convicting her of an untruth, she 
 hastened to employ herself on the trifles of the 
 toilet, and to seek in sleep that repose of heart 
 which her waking hours were never more to 
 know. But there was a thorn in her pillow too, 
 and her nights had lost no small portion of their 
 peace. 
 
 The following morning dawned bright and 
 clear, and Kate Greenly's state of mind was 
 changed. Fears and apprehensions, self-reproach 
 and regret, had vanished with the shades of night. 
 The stillness, the darkness, the solitude — those 
 powerful encouragers of sad thoughts — were gone ; 
 the busy, bustling, sunshiny day was present; she 
 
FOREST DAYS. 259 
 
 heard songs coming up from the streets, she heard 
 voices talking and laughing below ; all the sounds 
 and sights of merry life were around her ; and 
 her heart took the top of the wave, and bounded 
 onward in the light of hope. Her only care, as 
 she dressed herself in the morning, was, how she 
 should meet the keen grey eye of the Friar ; 
 but that was soon resolved. She would frown 
 upon him, she thought ; she would treat him 
 with silent contempt, and doubtless he would not 
 dare to say another word, for fear of calling upon 
 himself chastisement from her two attendants. 
 
 She was spared all trouble upon the subject, 
 however, for the friar had departed before day- 
 break. She had sent him no answer by the 
 hostess, and her silence was answer enough. 
 
 After a hasty meal the light-o'-love and those 
 who accompanied her once more set out upon 
 their way, and rode on some fifteen miles down 
 the Wye without stopping. Not that the two 
 serving-men would not willingly have paused at 
 one of the little towns they passed, to let the fair 
 companion of their journey take some repose ; 
 but Kate herself was eager to proceed. Hope and 
 expectation were busy at her heart— hope, that 
 
260 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 like a moth, flies on to burn itself to death in the 
 fla meof disappointment. 
 
 At length, upon a high woody bank, showing 
 a bold craggy face towards the river — the reader 
 who has travelled that way may know it, for a 
 little country church now crowns the hill, — ap- 
 peared, peeping from amongst the trees, a small 
 castellated tower, with one or two cottages 
 seeking protection beneath its walls. The serving- 
 man who rode beside her pointed forward with 
 his hand, as they passed over a slight slope in 
 the ground, which first presented this object to 
 their sight, saying, '^ There is the castle, Ma- 
 dam." 
 
 Kate looked forward, and her eyes sparkled ; 
 and in a few minutes more they were entering 
 the archway under the building. 
 
 The castle was smaller than she expected to 
 see it. It was, in fact, merely one of those strong 
 towers which had been built about a century 
 before, for the protection of the Norman en- 
 croachers upon that fair portion of the island, 
 into which the earliest known possessors of the 
 whole land had been driven by the sword of 
 various invaders. Many of these towers, with 
 
FOREST DAYS. 261 
 
 a small territory round them, had fallen into the 
 possession of the younger sons of noble families, 
 upon the mere tenure of defending them against 
 the attacks of the enemy ; and although the in- 
 CLU-sIons of the Welsh upon the English lands 
 were now much less frequent than they had been 
 some time before, the lords of these small castles 
 had often to hold them out against the efforts of 
 other still more formidable assailants. 
 
 It mattered not to Kate, however, whether the 
 place was large or small : how furnished or de- 
 corated was the same to her. It was his casde — 
 liisy to whom all her though. ts and feelings were 
 now given ; and she looked upon it but as the 
 home of love and joy, where all the hours of 
 the future were to be passed. 
 
 Her disappointments began almost at the 
 threshold. An old warder who let them in, not 
 only said in a rough tone, that Sir Richard do 
 Ashby had not yet arrived, but gazed over the 
 form of the female visitor with a look of harsh 
 and somewhat sullen displeasure. He murmured 
 something to himself too, the greater part of 
 which she did not hear, but words that sounded 
 like — '« This new Icman," caught her ear, and 
 
262 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 made her start, while a thrill of agony indescrib- 
 able passed through her bosom at the thought of 
 a name which might but too justly be applied to 
 her. The eyes of two or three archers, however, 
 who were hanging about the gate, were upon her, 
 as she knew ; and, fancying that the same term 
 mijjht be in their hearts also, she hurried on 
 after the old warder, who said he would show 
 her the chamber which had been prepared for 
 her by his master's orders. 
 
 She found it convenient, and fitted up with 
 every comfort, some of the articles being evi- 
 dently new; and she concluded, with love's 
 eager credulity, that these objects had been sent 
 down to decorate her apartment, and make 
 every thing look gay and cheerful in her eyes. 
 She was well used also ; but still, amongst the 
 men who surrounded her, there was a want of 
 that respect, which, although she knew she had 
 fairly forfeited all claim to it, she was angry 
 and grieved not to obtain. She had fancied, in 
 her idle vanity, that the concubine of a man of 
 rank would approach, in a degree at least, to 
 the station of his wife ; and she now consoled 
 herself with believing that she could easily in- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 263 
 
 diice Richard de Ashby, if not to punish such 
 want of reverence, at least to put a stop to it. 
 But day passed by, after day, without the ap- 
 pearance of him for whom she had sacrificed all ; 
 and melancholy memories and vain regrets kept 
 pouring upon her mind more and more strongly, 
 till she could hardly bear the weight of her own 
 thoughts. 
 
 At length, one day, towards eventide, she 
 saw, as she wandered round the batdements, 
 which were left unguarded, a small party of 
 horsemen coming up over the hill ; and, with 
 impatience which would brook no restraint, she 
 ran down to meet him who, she was convinced, 
 was now approaching. The old warder would 
 have prevented her from passing the gate, but 
 she bade him stand back in so stern and per- 
 emptory a tone that he gave way : for few are 
 the minds upon which the assumption of autho- 
 rity does not produce some effect. 
 
 Kate Greenly was not mistaken. The party 
 consisted of her seducer, and four or five sol- 
 diers, whom he had obtained at Hereford, for 
 the purpose of strengthening his little garrison, 
 
264 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 war being by this time imminent, and the post 
 that he lield considered of some importance. 
 
 Richard de Ashby sprang down from his horse 
 to meet her, and kissed her repeatedly, with 
 many expressions of tenderness and affection. 
 It is true, he spoke to her lightly; called her 
 *' Pretty one,'* and used those terms with which 
 he might have fondled a child, but which he 
 would never have thought of employing to a 
 woman he much respected. To other ears, this 
 might have marked the difference between Kate 
 Greenly's real situation, and that which fancy 
 almost taught her to believe was hers ; but poor 
 Kate saw it not ; for happiness swallowed up all 
 other feeling. He was with her — he was kind — 
 he was affectionate — she was no longer a solitary 
 being, without love, or joy, or occupation, or 
 self-respect, and that evening, and the next day, 
 and the next, passed over in happiness, which 
 obliterated every sensation of remorse for the 
 past or apprehension for the future. 
 
 Gradually, liowevcr, a change came over 
 Eichard de Ashby ; he lost some of his tender- 
 ness — he now and then spoke angrily — he would 
 
FOREST DAYS. 26^ 
 
 he out on horseback the v/hole day, and return 
 at night, tired, imperious and irritable. Kate 
 tried to soothe him, but tried in vain. He ut- 
 tered liarsh and unkind words — he langlied at 
 her fears — he turned from her caresses. 
 
 It were painful to pursue and recapitulate the 
 very well-known course of the events which, in 
 nine cases out often, follow such conduct as she 
 had adopted. The retribution was beginning. 
 The pangs of ill-requited affection, of betrayed 
 confidence, and of disappointed hope, rapidly 
 took possession of the young, light, wilful heart, 
 which had inflicted the same on others ; and, in 
 the gentler paroxysms of her grief, Kate would 
 sit and think of young Ralph Harland, and his 
 true love, of the fiither she had deceived and 
 disgraced, of the happy scenes of her childhood 
 and her youth, her village companions, her in- 
 nocent sports, the flowers gathered in the early 
 morning, and the Maypole on the green. 
 
 Of all these she would think, I say, in the 
 gentler moments of her sorrow, and would sit 
 and weep for many an liour together. But 
 there were other times, when a fiercer and a 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 haughtier mood would come upon her, when dis- 
 appointed vanity and irritated pride would raise 
 their voice, as well as injured love ; and dark 
 and passionate thoughts would pass through her 
 mind, sometimes flashing forth fiery schemes of 
 vengeance, like lightning from a cloud, soon 
 swallowed up in the obscurity again. An angry 
 word, also, would often break from her when 
 she saw herself trifled with, or neglected, or ill- 
 treated, but it only excited a mocking laugh, or 
 some insulting answer. It seemed, indeed, as if 
 Pvichard de Ashby took a pleasure in seeing her 
 fair face and beautiful figure wrought by strong 
 passion ; for, when he beheld her wrath kindled, 
 he would urge her on, with mirth or taunts, till 
 the fire would flash from her eyes, and then 
 drown itself in tears. 
 
 There was still, however, so much of unsated 
 passion yet left in his bosom, as to make him 
 generally soothe her in the end ; and, though 
 sometimes Kate's heart would continue to burn 
 for a whole day, after one of these scenes, they 
 generally ended with her face hid on his bosom. 
 The very quickness and fiery nature of her 
 
FOREST DAYS. *267 
 
 spirit, indeed, gave her charms in his cold, dis- 
 solute eyes, which none of tlie softer and the 
 weaker victims who had preceded her had ever 
 possessed. It kept his sensations alive, amused 
 and excited him, and he treated her as a good 
 cavalier will sometimes treat a fiery horse, which 
 he now spurs into fury, now reins and governs 
 with a strong hand, now soothes and caresses 
 into tranquillity and gentleness. 
 
 His servants marked all this, and smiled, and 
 one would turn to another and say, '* This has 
 lasted longer than it ever lasted before. She 
 must have some spell upon him, to keep his 
 love for a whole month !" But it was clear to 
 see that, under such constant vehemence and 
 irritation, affection, on her part, at least, could 
 not long endure, or that, as will sometimes hap- 
 pen, love would change its own nature, and act 
 the part of hate. 
 
 W2 
 
*2G8 rORKST DAYS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 As unpleasant a moment as any in tlie ordinary 
 course of life is when a conversation with tlie 
 being we love best — one of the few sweet en- 
 trancing resting-places of the heart which fate 
 sometimes affords us in the midst of the ocean 
 of cares, anxieties, sorrows, and trifles, that sur- 
 rounds us on every side — is interrupted suddenly 
 by some one to whom we are wholly indilTerent. 
 
 The step upon the stairs, and the knock that 
 followed it at the dooi', were amongst the most 
 ungrateful sounds that could have struck tlie 
 ear of Hugh de Monthermer and Lucy de 
 Ashby ; and there was no slight impatience in 
 the tone of the former, as he said, " Come in !" 
 
 The door opened slowly ; but, instead of 
 
FOREST DAYS. 269 
 
 either of Lucy'b maids or ]:>relty Cicely, who 
 waited upon them, the ape-like ilice and figure 
 of poor Tangel, the dwarf, appeared, beckoning 
 Hugh out of the room with one of his strange 
 gestures. 
 
 " What would you, boy ?" said Hugh, with- 
 out risinic from his seat. 
 
 " I w^ould have you get upon your walking- 
 sticks," replied Tangel, '*• and come with me." 
 
 ** I must first know why," answered Hugh 
 de Monthermer. '* Go away, good Tangel ; I 
 will come presently." 
 
 '' Nay, you must come now," said the dwarf. 
 " Robin stays for no man ; and Robin and the 
 t'other fellow sent me for him of the purfled 
 jerkin. He has matter of counsel for thine car, 
 though well I wot that it is for all the world 
 like sticking a flower in a cock's tail." 
 
 " I see not the likeness, good Tangel," an- 
 swered Hugh, slowly rising. 
 
 " It will soon fall out again," said Tangel. 
 " Counsel, I mean. Sir Man at Arms. What's 
 the wit of giving counsel to a man in a purfled 
 jerkin? But you must come and have it, whe- 
 ther you will or not." 
 
270 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 '^ It must be so, 1 suppose," answered Hugh. 
 But Lucy held him for a moment by the sleeve, 
 saying, anxiously — 
 
 '* You will come back, Hugh ? You will 
 come back ?'' 
 
 ** Think you that I will leave you here now, 
 Lucy ?" he asked, with a smile. " No, no, dear 
 Lucy ; as I said before, if I take you not with 
 me, I will remain and spend my life in the 
 forest with you." 
 
 " Ho, ho !" cried the dwarf, as if he had 
 made a discovery. " Ho, ho ! I were better 
 away, methinks." 
 
 *« We did not wish for you, good Tangel,*' 
 answered Hugh, laughing. " Lead on, how- 
 ever. Where is your master ?" 
 
 The dwarf again made a sign, waving one of 
 his long arms in the direction of the stairs, and 
 Hugh de Monthermer, after a word or two more 
 to Lucy de Ashby, in a lower tone, quitted the 
 room, and followed the boy down to the same 
 chamber into which the Outlaw had led him on 
 his first arrival. It was now tenanted by two 
 men — the bold forester, and another, who was 
 standing with his back towards the door. At 
 
FOREST DAYS. 2? I 
 
 the step of the young lord, however, the latter 
 turned round, displaying the face of the good 
 franklin, Ralph Harland. 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer started ; for in the short 
 space which had passed since last he saw him 
 on the village green, a change had taken place 
 in his countenance such as nothing but intense 
 grief can work. Indeed, mortal sickness itself 
 but rarely produces so rapid an alteration ; he 
 looked like one of those, whom we read of, 
 stricken with the plague of the fourteenth cen- 
 tury, where the warning sign of the coming 
 death was read by others in the face and eyes, 
 before the person doomed was at all aware that 
 the malady had even laid the lightest touch 
 upon them. Of poor Ralph Harland, it might 
 indeed be said, as then of those attacked by the 
 pestilence, " the plague was at his heart,'' 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer instantly took him by 
 the hand, exclaiming, " Good Heaven ! Ralph, 
 what ails thee ? Thou art ill, my good friend 
 — thou art very ill !" 
 
 '* Sick in mind, my lord, and ill in spirit," 
 replied Ralph Harland, gloomily, " but nothing 
 
272 roil EST DAYS. 
 
 ** Nay, nay, llalpli," exclaimed Hugh do 
 Munthermer, " you must not speak to me so 
 coldly. We have wrestled on the turf in our boy- 
 hood, we have galloped together through the 
 woodland in our youth ; I have eaten your good 
 father's bread and drank his wine, and rested my 
 head upon the same pillow with yourself — and 
 Hugh de Monthermer must have a brother's 
 answer from Ralph Harland. What is it ails 
 thee, man ? On my honour and n)y knighthood, 
 if oiy sword, or my voice, or my power can do 
 
 you service But I know, I know what it is," 
 
 he continued, suddenly recollecting the events 
 of the May-day ; and though he was not fully 
 aware of the whole, divining more than lie 
 actually knew, by combining one fact with 
 another — "I remember now, Ralph ; and I 
 know what is the serpent that has stung thee. 
 Alas, Ralph, that is a wound I have no balm 
 to cure!" 
 
 '* There is none for it on earth," replied 
 Ralph Harland. 
 
 " Ay," said Robin Hood, '* but though there 
 be none to cure, there may be bahn to allay, 
 my lord; and yours must be the hand to give it. 
 
FOllEST DAYS. 273 
 
 I will tell you the trulh ; we liokl liere a cer- 
 tain fair young lady, wliom, as you see, we treat 
 with all respect. You may ask, why we hold 
 her — why we have taken her from her friends ? 
 My lord, one of her noble house has taken 
 from a father's care, a child as beloved as she 
 can be ; has broken bonds asunder which 
 united many a heart together — parent and 
 child, lover and beloved — has made a liome 
 desolate, crushed the hopes of an honest spirit, 
 and made a harlot of a once innocent coun- 
 try girl. This is all bad enough, my lord ; 
 but still wc seek not for revenge. All that we 
 require is, the only slight reparation that can be 
 made by man. Let her be sent back to her 
 home — let her be given up to her father — let her 
 not be kept awhile in gaiety and evil, and then 
 turned an outcast upon the bitter, biting world. 
 You, my lord, must require this at the liands of 
 the Earl of Ash by ; he only can do that which is 
 right, and to you we look to induce that noble 
 lord to do justice even to us poor peasants." 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer paused for a moment 
 or two in thought ere he replied, but he then 
 N 3 
 
274 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 ansvvered — *' I can bear no compulsory message 
 to the Earl, my good friend. What yon have 
 done here is but wild justice ; this lady never in- 
 jured you — her father never injured you. You 
 take her unvi^illing from her home as a hostage 
 for the return of one who went willingly where 
 she did go — who stays willingly where she now 
 is. If she chooses to stay there, who can send 
 lier back again ? I can do nothing in this, so 
 long as you keep this lady here. Indeed, I tell 
 you fairly, as you have bound me by my honour 
 not to mention what I have seen, I must e'en re- 
 main here, too ; for my first act as a knight and 
 a gentleman, when I am at liberty, must be to 
 do my endeavour to set her free." 
 
 '* And as a lover, also," added Robin Hood; 
 "but, my lord, we will spare you a useless trouble, 
 for, let me tell you, that not all the men of Mon- 
 thermer, and Ashby to boot, would liberate that 
 lady if I chose to hold her. But there is some 
 truth in what you say ; and that truth struck me 
 before you uttered it. It was on that account I 
 left you an hour or two ago, and went to seek this 
 much-injured young man, to confess to him what 
 
FOREST DAYS. 275 
 
 I am never aybamed to confess, when it is so, that 
 I have been rash — that I had no right to punish 
 a fair and innocent lady for the fault of a false 
 traitor. To-morrow morning she shall return 
 under your good charge and guidance ; but still, 
 my lord, to you I look to demand of the Earl of 
 Ashby that he compel his kinsman both to send 
 back that light-o'-love, Kate Greenly, to her 
 father's house, and to make such poor reparation, 
 in the way of her dowry to a convent, as may at 
 least punish the beggarly knave for the wrong- 
 he has committed. I charge you, my lord, as a 
 knight and gentleman, to do this." 
 
 " And I will do it," answered Hugh de Mon- 
 thermer, '* since you so willingly set the lady 
 free, whatever be the consequences ; and to me 
 they may be bitterer than you think. I will do 
 what you require because my heart tells me it is 
 right, and my oath of chivalry binds me to per- 
 form it." 
 
 " Ah, my lord !" said Robin Hood, *' would 
 the nobles of England but consult the dictates of 
 the heart, and keep that heart unhardened — 
 would they remember the oath cf their cliivalry, 
 
2/6 rOKEST DAVS. 
 
 and act ab tliaL oath requires, thfie would be 
 less mourning in the land — there would be more 
 happiness in the cottage, and some reverence for 
 men in high station." 
 
 '* You are wrong," said Hugh de Monthermei*, 
 laying his hand upon the bold forester's arm — 
 "you are wrong, and give more way to connnon 
 prejudice than 1 had hoped or expected. There 
 are amongst us, Robin, men who disgrace the 
 name of noble^ whose foul deeds, like those of this 
 Richard deAshby, carry misery into other orders, 
 and disgrace into their own. But vices and 
 follies find ready chroniclers — virtues and good 
 actions are rarely written but in the book of 
 Heaven. One bad man's faults aie remembered 
 and talked of, and every one adds, 'He was a 
 noble;' but how many good deeds and kindly 
 actkms, how many honourable feelings and fine 
 thoughts remain without a witness and without a 
 record ? Who is there that snys. This good old 
 lord visited my cottage and soothed me in sick- 
 ness or in sorrow ? Who is there that says, I 
 love this baron, or that, because he defended me 
 against wrong, protected me ngainst trouble, sup- 
 
FOREST DAYS. 27/ 
 
 ported me in want, cheered me in adversity ? 
 And yet there are many such. I mean not to 
 assert that there are not many corrupt and 
 vicious, cruel and liard-hearted. I mean not 
 to contend that there are any without iaults, lor 
 every man has some, be he rich or poor. But 
 if the merits and demerits could be fairly 
 weighed, I do believe that the errors of my own 
 class would not be found greater than those of 
 any other, only that our rank serves to raise us, 
 as it were, on a pedestal, that malice may see 
 all flaws, and that envy may shoot at them." 
 
 Itobin Hood paused, with his eyes bent down 
 upon the ground, making no reply ; and Hugh 
 do Monthermer went on a moment after, saying, 
 '' At least, do lis justice in one point. In this 
 age, and in others gone before, the nobles of 
 England have stood forward against tyranny 
 wherever they found it. Have they ever failed 
 to shed their blood in defence of the rights of the 
 people ? Is it not their doing, that such a thing 
 as human bondage is disappearing from the 
 island ? We may have vassals, followers, rc- 
 tainers^ men who are bound, for the land they 
 
278 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 hold, to do us service in time of need, but we 
 have no serfs, no theows, as in the olden time, and 
 even villain tenure is passing av^^ay. Again, who is 
 it, even at the very present time, that is calling 
 deputies from the ranks of the people to the high 
 parliament of the nation, to represent the rights 
 and interests of those classes which had hereto- 
 fore no voice in making the laws of the land ? I 
 say, it is the nobles of England ; and I am much 
 mistaken if, in all times to come, that body of 
 men — though there may be, and ever will be, evil- 
 doers amongst them — will not stand between the 
 people and oppression and wrong — will not 
 prove the great bulwark of our institutions, pre- 
 serving them from all the tempests that may 
 assail them, let the point of attack be where it 
 will." 
 
 " Perhaps it may be so," said Robin Hood ; 
 «^ but yet, my good lord, I could wish that per- 
 sons in high station would remember that, with 
 their advantages and privileges, with wealth, 
 power, and dignity, greater than their fellow- 
 men, they have greater duties and obligations 
 likewise ; and, as envy places them where all 
 
FOREST DAYS. 279 
 
 their faults may be observed, it would be as well 
 if, asyn body, they were to remember that each 
 man who disgraces himself disgraces his whole 
 order, and were to punish him for that crime 
 by withdrawing from him the countenance 
 of those upon whom he has brought discredit. 
 When the virtuous associate with the vicious, 
 they make the fault their own ; and no wonder 
 that men of high birth, though good men in 
 themselves, are classed together with the wicked 
 of their own order when they tolerate the evil- 
 doer, and leave him unpunished even by a 
 frown." 
 
 '' I cannot but agree with you," said Hugh de 
 Monthermer ; <« but " 
 
 " Ay, my lord, there is many a but," replied 
 the bold outlaw, after having waited for a mo- 
 ment to hear the conclusion of the young lord's 
 sentence : " and there ever will be a but, so lono: 
 as men are men, and have human passions and 
 human follies. There w^as but one In whose life 
 there was no hut, and Him they nailed upon a 
 tree;" and the outlaw raised his hand, and touched 
 his bonnet, reverently, for he felt deep rever- 
 
280 roREsr days. 
 
 eiice, however much his words might seem to 
 want it. 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer was not inclined to 
 pursue the conversation any farther, and, turn- 
 ing to the young frankhn, he said, " I fear, 
 Ralph, that after all the wrong you have suffered 
 from one of my class, you will not be inclined 
 to allow us much merit in any respect ; but, 
 believe me, we are not all like him." 
 
 " I know it, my lord — I know it," replied 
 Ralph. '* If I were ignorant that, as well as the 
 blackest vices whicli can degrade man, there are 
 to be found in your order the brightest virtues, 
 I should not merit to have known you. — But in 
 good sooth, my lord, my thoughts are not of 
 general subjects just now. One private grief 
 presses on me so hard that I can think of no- 
 thing else.'* 
 
 " I would fain have you wean yourself from 
 those remembrances," said his friend. " Nay, 
 shake not your head, I know that it can only be 
 done by banishing all those sights and sounds 
 that are the watchwords of memory, and by seek- 
 ing other matter for thought. Ay, even matter 
 
FOREST DAYS. 281 
 
 lliat will force your mind away iVom the subject 
 that it clings to, and occupy you whether you 
 will or not. There are stirring times before us, 
 llalpli, — times when the great inteiests of the 
 state, — when dangers to our liberties and ri^»hts 
 may well divide men's attention with private 
 griefs. What say you j will you come with me 
 to the west, and take a part in the struggle that 
 I see approaching ?" 
 
 " 1 will follow you right willingly, my lord," 
 replied Ralph Harland, *' though 1 cannot well 
 go with you. I must not forget, in my selfish 
 sorrow, that I have a father who loves me ; and 
 whose life and happiness rests upon mine, as I 
 have seen an old wall held up by the ivy which 
 it first raised from the ground. I must speak 
 with him before I go — must bid him adieu, and 
 do what I can to comfort and console him. He 
 will not seek to make me stay, and I will soon 
 follow you ; but it shall not be alone, for I can 
 bring you many a heart right willing to fight 
 under the same banner with yourself. Where 
 shall I find you, my good lord ?" 
 
 '* As soon as I have taken this fair lady's 
 
282 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 orders," said Hugh de Monthermer, ^' and con- 
 ducted her whither she is pleased to go, I shall 
 turn my steps direct to Hereford by the way of 
 Gloucester, hoping to overtake my uncle and 
 the good Earl of Ashby, and should I find with 
 him his cousin Richard, he shall render to me 
 no light account of more than one base act." 
 
 " Nay, my lord, nay," replied the young- 
 franklin, " I do beseech you, quarrel not for 
 me. I know, or at least guess, what dear in- 
 terests you may peril. But, moreover, though 
 1 be neither knight nor noble, there are some 
 wrongs that set aside all vain distinctions, and I 
 do not despair of the time coming when I shall 
 find that base traitor alone to give me an an- 
 swer. When that moment arrives, it will be a 
 solemn one ; but I would not part with the hope 
 thereof for a king's crown. But now, my lord, 
 let me not keep you from the lady of your love. 
 Go to her ; let her know she is free to come 
 and go, as far as I at least am concerned ; but 
 tell her, my lord, I charge you, why she v/as 
 brought here, that she may be aware of what d 
 serpent her father and her brother cherish." 
 
FOREST DAYS. 283 
 
 " Ay, tell her — tell her," said Robin Hood — 
 ** tell her, for her own sake ; for there is some- 
 thing that makes me fear — I know not why — 
 that the day will come when that knowledge 
 may be to her a safeguard and a shield against 
 one who now seems powerless. Scoff not at it, 
 my lord, as if he were too pitiful to give cause 
 for alarm. The scorpion is a small, petty-looking 
 insect, but yet there is death in his sting. And 
 now, good night j when you have spent another 
 hour in the sweet dreams that lovers like, betake 
 you to repose, and early to-morrow you shall 
 have some one to guide you on your way." 
 
284 roiiEST OAYs. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 There are some days of life when everything 
 appears to conibiiie to heighten the hues of hap- 
 piness, when not only the sensations in our own 
 bosoms, and the circumstances of our fiiteare all 
 bright and cheerful, but when every external 
 object, every feature in Nature's face seems to 
 smile, and every sound to be in harmony with 
 our feelings. But such hours are too precious 
 to be many ; blessed is that life which can count 
 two or three of them ; and it has been often re- 
 marked, that as at some seasons of the year, a 
 pecuHarly fine day generally announces the ap- 
 proach of storm and tempest, so do one of those 
 bright intervals in our cloudy existence precede 
 a period of sorrow, trouble, and disaster. 
 
FOREST DAYS, 285 
 
 An lioiir after day-break, on as sweet a morn- 
 ing as ever dawned, in the midst of the magnifi- 
 cent scenery of the forest, Hugh de Montherraer 
 and Lucy de Ashby stood by the side of their 
 horses, ready to mount and depart. Love gave 
 its sunshine to each heart. Lucy's bosom beat 
 high at her dehverance by her lover. The assur- 
 ance of her affection — the deh'ght of lier pre- 
 sence — the increased hope of obtaining her, ren- 
 dered his sensations not less joyful. The yellow 
 morning light spread sweetly overhead ; the 
 old grey Saxon building rested calm in its ivy 
 robe behind them ; every blade of grass was 
 sparkling with a thousand diamonds; every air 
 wafted the breath of the sweet forest flowers ; 
 every tree was tuneful with the song of the birds. 
 It was like some happy dreanijwhen imagination, 
 stripping life of its stern realities, revels su- 
 preme, and decks the brief moments of sleep 
 whh all the boundless treasures of her airy 
 kingdom. 
 
 A step nearer to the lodge stood the bold 
 forester ; his fine, muscular limbs clear and de- 
 fined in his tight-fitting garb, and his nu^ brown 
 
286 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 hair curling round his thoughtful forehead. A 
 faint smile hung upon his lip as he watched the 
 two lovers, leaving them to proceed as they 
 would, without interrupting them with cour- 
 tesies. It seemed as if he was reading a plea- 
 sant book, of the truth of which he might have 
 some doubt, but which yet interested and amused 
 him ; for Robin knew the world too well to 
 suppose that such happiness could last long, but 
 yet his mind was of that firm and hardy nature 
 which clouds not the present with cares and 
 fears of the future, but extracts from every hour 
 its honey, and leaves the rest to fate. 
 
 When Hugh de Monthermer had placed 
 Lucy on her horse, he turned to bid their host 
 good by, frankly holding out his hand. 
 
 " Farewell, my lord !" said Robin, taking it. 
 '' We shall soon meet again in busier scenes, if 
 I judge right. But where is the guide I pro- 
 mised you ? Why, Tangel, Tangel ! where are 
 you ?" and he raised his voice loud and some- 
 what sternly. At his last call the dwarf crept 
 forth from behind the house, with a bent head 
 and crouching posture, like an unwilling dog. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 287 
 
 approaching his master slowly, and eyeing him 
 askance. 
 
 ^' What now — what now?" said Robin Hood. 
 '* Did I not give you orders? Where is the 
 horse ?" 
 
 " I would fain not go," cried the dwarf. " Let 
 me stay with thee, Robin, let me stay with thee. 
 Send Smooth Face, send White Skin, send 
 Harry the page. — If the fool can't take care of 
 himself, and must have a boy to lead him about 
 the world, like a blind beggar, send young Pork- 
 flesh with him. — Why should he take me?" 
 
 " Nay, my good friend," said Hugh de Mon- 
 thermer, seeing the bold forester about to speak 
 somewhat angrily, '^ Let the lad stay with thee ! 
 I shall find my way well enough ; his only fault 
 is loving thee well." 
 
 " Those that love me obey me," replied Robin 
 Hood ; '* and, my good lord, he must do so, or 
 never see me more. It is not alone to guide 
 you through the forest I send him with you ; 
 you must take him to Hereford, and keep 
 him till we meet again. You will find him 
 faithful and true, crafty and active, though 
 
288 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 he sliews himself so unruly at present ; and 
 in these dangerous times it may be of great 
 service both to you and me that you should 
 have some one with you who knows every 
 man in my band. I may have to convey intel- 
 ligence to you and to the good lord, your uncle ; 
 for I gain a knowledge of all that takes place 
 throughout the land, which my Lord of Leices- 
 ter, with all his power, cannot attain. It is 
 needful that you should have some means of 
 knowing which messengers are really mine, and 
 v/hich are not, for these are times full of deceit, 
 and human cunning is more busily at work than 
 the world ever saw, I believe. If anybody 
 comes to you in my name, call for this boy, and 
 make him tell you whether he be one of my 
 people or not. Go, Tangel; and let me hear 
 that you have done your duty." 
 
 " Come, my boy — corneal'' said Hugh de Mon- 
 thermer, speaking to him kindly ; '' I will try to 
 make thee as happy as may be; and thou shalt 
 love me, whether thou wilt or not." 
 
 " Goodsooth, I love thee well enough," re- 
 plied the dwarf, " though I liave no weakness 
 
FOREST DAYS. 289 
 
 for men in purfled jerkins. I love thee well 
 enough, though not so well as him ; but what 
 must be, must be. Poor Tangel has always 
 been Fate's foot-ball. Well, I will get the 
 horse.*' 
 
 So saying, he stretched out his long arms, 
 put his hands suddenly upon the shoulders of 
 Lucy's two maids, who were standing close to- 
 gether, and vaulting over them with a leap that 
 made them both scream, he bounded round the 
 angle of the building, and soon re-appeared, 
 leading a small brown forest horse, furnished 
 with saddle-bags for his journey. 
 
 As soon as the whole party were mounted, 
 the Outlaw approached the side of Hugh de 
 Monthermer's horse, and, looking up in his face, 
 said a few words to him in a low tone which 
 seemed to excite some surprise. 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed the young knight ; 
 " but are you certain ?" 
 
 " As certain," replied Robin Hood, " as of 
 that being a magpie in the tree." 
 
 " Then you must have taken some means to 
 delude them," said Hugh de Monthermer. 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
290 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 '* Not I," answered Robin Hood, " I always 
 leave fools to delude themselves ; they are sure 
 to do it more cleverly than I could. However, 
 it was necessary that you should know the fact, 
 so I tell you. Now, God speed you, sir — we 
 shall meet again soon." 
 
 In a moment or two after, the little caval- 
 cade was moving along through the glades of 
 the forest, Tangel riding on before, in somewhat 
 sullen mood, followed at the distance of about 
 twenty yards by Lucy and her lover, with a 
 discreet space between them and the maids who 
 followed. The pace at which they proceeded 
 was not quick, for those were hours which two 
 at least of the party would willingly have spun 
 out slowly — a fine golden thread, which they 
 feared v/ould end only too soon. 
 
 But why should I pause upon their happiness ? 
 Why should I relate what each said to the other ? 
 Tlie stream of human pleasure, except when it 
 falls in the fierce cataract of passion, is so calm 
 and smooth that there is little to describe. Let 
 each one bring such a moment home to his own 
 breast; let him fancy himself riding by the side 
 
 1 
 
FOREST DAYS. 291 
 
 of her whom he loves best through scenes as 
 fair, with hopes as bright, and his own heart 
 will present him a better picture tlian any which 
 my hand could draw. 
 
 They soon emerged from the deeper part of 
 the wood, and wound slowly on through the 
 mingled savannahs and copses which occupied a 
 considerable part of the forest ground, till they 
 came upon a high road running from Notting- 
 ham to some of the Yorkshire towns, with a 
 finger-post — which is a much older invention 
 than is generally supposed — marking the vari- 
 ous paths towards Mansfield, Southwell, and 
 other small places within the meres of the 
 forest. 
 
 To say the trudi, Hugh de Monthermer, 
 with a true lover's forget fulness, had never re- 
 membered to give their dwarfish guide any or- 
 ders as to the direction he should take, and the 
 first thing tliat called the necessity to his mind 
 was the question which that finger-post mutely 
 put to the traveller. 
 
 *« I fear, dear Lucy," he said, " that Lind- 
 well is not far off, and thither I suppose I must 
 o2 
 
292 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 conduct you direct, although it is sad to bring 
 such happy moments as these to an end." 
 
 " I fear it must be so," answered Lucy, with 
 a sigh ; " my father will be anxious, you know, 
 till he sees me again, and I must think of him 
 before myself, Hugh." 
 
 " But if it be on his account you would go 
 to LindwelV* replied her lover, " you will be 
 disappointed, dear Lucy, for he is not there. 
 Judging hastily that you must have been carried 
 off by some emissary of the King's party, in 
 order to detach him from the English cause, he 
 and your brother have, I find, gone on in the 
 direction of Gloucester likewise." 
 
 " Oh, then I will not stay at Lindwell all 
 alone," cried Lucy, gaily — " I should be as 
 melancholy as one of the rooks that haunt the 
 old trees round it; and besides," she added, 
 perhaps not ill-pleased at having a good excuse 
 to go on under her lover's protection — "and 
 besides, who can tell what might happen. The 
 foreign party are strong in Nottingham and all 
 tlie neighbouring places, and I might have to 
 put on armour and defend Lindwell against an 
 
FOREST DAYS. 293 
 
 army. No, no, Hugh, if you are a good knight 
 and true, you will guide me on to seek my 
 father till we have found him. By my sooth, I 
 would rather have remained with the blithe 
 foresters than be confined to Lindwell, with all 
 the chances of these evil times." 
 
 The reader may easily suppose that Hugh de 
 Monthermer was not at all dissatisfied with 
 Lucy's decision, and as he was one whose heart 
 was no way faint, he doubted not that he should 
 be able to guide her safely and well to her 
 father's side, although he could not conceal from 
 himself, and would not conceal from her, that 
 there were difficulties and dangers in the way. 
 
 " You put a hard task upon me, Lucy," he 
 said, laughing. 
 
 " What mean you, uncourteous knight ?" 
 she asked, in the same tone ; — " This is the first 
 time that I ever met a gentleman unwilling to 
 guide and protect me whithersoever I went. — 
 A mighty hard task, truly !" 
 
 " No, by those bright eyes," replied Hugh, 
 " that is not the task I speak of; but it is to 
 persuade you not to do that which I most wish 
 
294 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 you woiikl. I mean, dear Lucy, that I must 
 dissuade you from going on, though to ride be- 
 side you thus, for two or three days more, were 
 worth a whole year of any other part of life. 
 But I cannot let you choose without telling you 
 that there is many a peril to be encountered be- 
 tween this and Gloucester. Gilbert de Clare, 
 whose faith has long been doubtful, it is now 
 ascertained, is ready to take arms against De 
 Montfort. Indeed, he may alreadj^ have done 
 so ; and one thing is certain, that in the forest 
 of Dean, armed men are gathering thick, with- 
 out any known object, so that the way is dan- 
 gerous." 
 
 " I have no fear, Hugh," replied Lucy, " so 
 that you be beside me ; and moreover we can get 
 some men from Lindwell. I would not stay 
 tliere alone to be Queen of Cyprus, so that my 
 only choice is to go with you, or to put myself 
 at the head of the best troop I can gather, and 
 then, like an errant lady, seek my way without 
 yo.,." 
 
 " Nay, then, if such be your will," answered 
 her lovei', " there is no choice for either of us, 
 
FOREST DAYS. 295 
 
 though perhaps your brother may frown, and even 
 your father look cold. There is still, however, 
 a chance that we may overtake my uncle at 
 Torwel, and if we do so, his grave company 
 and stout men at arms will save us from all 
 danger, and all reproaches. At all events, he 
 will leave some four or five archers behind him, 
 trusty soldiers at one's need ; and if we can get as 
 many from Lindwell, I would undertake, with 
 care and forethought and good precautions, to 
 guard you uninjured hence to Palestine." 
 
 "Oh, how pleasant !" cried Lucy — '' Let us go, 
 Hugh — why should we not go ? I think every 
 woman should make a pilgrimage to Palestine 
 before she marries." 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer, however, thought it 
 would be better to reverse the proceeding, and, 
 marrying first, make the pilgrimage afterwards — 
 if they I'ked it. So he told Lucy ; nor did she 
 say no ; and putting their horses into a quicker 
 pace, he directed their dwarfish guide to lead on 
 towards Torwel. Passing by Arnold, and 
 skirting the edges of Thorney Wood, they 
 crossed the Lind not far from Basfort, at which 
 
296 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 little village they paused for a moment or two, to 
 water their horses, towards nine in the morning. 
 At Torwel, however, they found that the Earl 
 had gone on, leaving six archers behind him to 
 await his nephew's coming. Here a longer re- 
 pose was necessary, for though Lucy, trained to 
 hardier habits than ladies affect in the present 
 day,*was capable of enduring much more fatigue ; 
 she was still a woman, and might well feel some- 
 what weary with a four-hours* ride. 
 
 The time they passed at Torwel flew quick 
 away, and they were speedily retreading, in some 
 degree, their steps towards her father's castle. 
 Great were the rejoicings at Lindwell to see her 
 safe returned, and every man would have gladly 
 accompanied her to guard her by the way. The 
 defence of the place itself, however, was not to 
 be neglected, and as Lucy was resolved to pro- 
 ceed that night, six stout men-at-arms were 
 chosen from the rest, and being quickly mounted 
 and accoutred, the party once more set out with 
 four hours clear daylight before them, taking 
 their way towards the frontiers of Derbyshire. 
 
 Onward they rode with light, gay hearts ; the 
 
FOREST DAYS. 297 
 
 spirit of adventure and enterprise itself adding 
 something to all the manifold enjoyments which 
 had crowded into that day. 
 
 The boy Tangel had by this time dropped 
 into the rear, being no longer necessary as a 
 guide, and to say truth, although Hugh had 
 spoken to him once or twice as they pro- 
 ceeded, absorbed in his own feelings towards 
 Lucy, he had taken but little notice of his ab- 
 sence from the front. When they had left 
 Lindwell, however, some seven miles behind 
 them, the boy urged his horse up at a quick 
 pace, saying, ^' On your guard — on your guard ! 
 there are men coming up fast behind;" and turn- 
 ing round, Hugh de Monthermer perceived some 
 six or seven persons galloping down from a hill 
 at the distance of about half a mile. 
 
 Lucy paused to gaze likewise, and as the 
 pursuers came nearer, she exclaimed, with a 
 look, it must be owned, of no great pleasure — 
 "It is my brother, Hugh ; I am sure that is 
 Alured on the black horse." 
 
 " I think so too," replied Hugh de Monther- 
 mer, drawing in his rein ; " but even if it be 
 not, we have nothing to fear." 
 
298 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 The little party of liorsemen who were follow- 
 ing, came on at full speed, and certainly not 
 with the most peaceful appearance ; but every 
 stretch of the horses showed more and more 
 clearly the form of Alured de Ashby, and at 
 length, after slackening his pace a good deal, 
 as if to examine the group which was now wait- 
 ing his approach, he rode up, with a counte- 
 nance expressive of less pleasure than might have 
 been expected at seeing his sister in safety. 
 
 " How now !" he exclaimed — '* What is all 
 this ? Why have you turned your back upon 
 Lindwell, my good lord 1 and whither are you 
 having the great kindness to conduct my sister ?" 
 
 '* To overtake Lord Ashby, my lord," re- 
 plied Hugh, " who has gone on towards Glou- 
 cester, we find." 
 
 " Methinks, sir," answered Alured de Ashby, 
 " that Lindwell castle were the properest place 
 for you to conduct her to, after having so dex- 
 terously found her when no one else knew where 
 she was." 
 
 " But suppose, Alured," said Lucy, ere Hugh 
 de Monthermer could utter the somewhat sharp 
 rejoinder which was springing to his lips — 
 
FOREST DAYS. 299 
 
 " suppose, Alured, that your sister did not choose 
 to be so conducted. Suppose, after visiting 
 Lindvvell, she thought fit to ask this noble gen- 
 tleman to guard and protect her by the way, till 
 she overtook her father ?'' 
 
 " Doubtless he was very willing," answered 
 Lord Aluredj with a sneer. 
 
 " Beyond all question," replied Hugh de 
 Monthermer, in as cool a tone as he could com- 
 mand ; " and not more willing to do so than 
 justified in doing it. But you were pleased just 
 now to make use of a word which must be ex- 
 plained. You said, sir, that I had found your 
 sister when no one else knew where she was. 
 Do you mean to imply that I did know?" 
 
 " Good fliith," replied the hot young noble- 
 man, " it is not for me to say whether you did 
 or not. It is mighty strange, however, that you 
 could discover her in the twinkling of an eye, as 
 soon as her relations were gone." 
 
 " Not half so strange," said Lucy, interposing 
 once more in terror for the result, "as that you 
 should show yourself so ungrateful, Alured, for 
 his having found me. Instead of giving him 
 
300 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 deep thanks, which are his due both from you 
 and me, you seem as angry as if you had wished 
 me to remain and perish in the forest." 
 
 " Well, well," said Alured de Ashby, a little 
 ashamed perhaps of his irritable heat — ^* this is 
 all waste of words ! — Where were you ? What 
 was the cause of your being taken away ? What 
 has happened to you ?" 
 
 " Three questions in a breath," exclaimed 
 Lucy, " each of which would take an hour to 
 answer fully, even if I could answer them all. 
 As to the first, then, I have been in the forest; 
 as to the last, I reply, a good deal has hap- 
 pened to me, of which I will tell you at lei- 
 sure. As to the middle one, Why they took 
 me away ? my answer must be very short, — I do 
 not know." 
 
 " Perhaps you do, sir ?" said her brother, 
 turning to Hugh. 
 
 The young nobleman looked him straight- 
 forwardly and somewhat sternly in the face, 
 answering, " I do." 
 
 *' Then pray explain," said Alured. 
 
 " You will excuse me," replied Hugh, "I shall 
 
FOREST DAYS. 301 
 
 first explain the whole to your father, as he is the 
 person who must act in the business, and as I 
 bear a message to him of which he alone can 
 judge." 
 
 " Mighty mysterious, my good lord," cried 
 Alured — " But as I am now present here, and 
 am going with all speed to overtake the Earl 
 of Ashby, my sister will no longer need your 
 kind protection." 
 
 " But as we take the same road," said Hush 
 de Monthermer, " it will be safer for all, if we 
 travel it together." 
 
 " Fie I Alured ; in common courtesy " 
 
 exclaimed Lucy. 
 
 But her brother interrupted her petulantly, 
 saying — " These are times that abridge cour- 
 tesy, Lucy. — I differ, my good lord," he con- 
 tinued — " I judge that it will be safer for us 
 to travel apart. With our two troops united 
 we form a body that cannot escape observation, 
 and which is yet too small to make a good de- 
 fence. I therefore think that it will be better 
 for us to separate. Thanking you much for the 
 assistance and protection you have given to this 
 
302 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 lady, and waiting with devout patience for the 
 explanations which you have not thought fit to 
 afford, I will take one way if you will take 
 another." 
 
 Hugh de Monthermer bit liis lip ; but though 
 quick and fiery in his own disposition, he was act- 
 ing under a restraint which made him bear to the 
 utmost, rather than quarrel with the brother of 
 her whom he loved, resolved that it should be no 
 act of his which placed a barrier between them. 
 Without making any reply to Alured de Ashby 
 then, he wheeled round his horse to Lucy's side, 
 asking in a low voice — " Shall I go ?" 
 
 " You had better," said Lucy, with a sigh — 
 " you had better :" and then raising her voice, 
 she added — " Farewell, Lord Hugh ; I at least 
 am grateful, and so you will find my father, I 
 am sure. Farewell." 
 
 Thus speaking she held out her hand to him ; 
 and Hugh de Monthermer, pressing his lips 
 upon it, turned his horse, and bade his men 
 follow him, without offering any salutation to the 
 ungracious young nobleman who had brought 
 so happy a day to so unpleasant a close. 
 
FOREST DAYS. 303 
 
 Taking a road which lay somewhat to the 
 north of that which Lucy and her brother were 
 pursuing, he advanced towards Gloucester, 
 keeping nearly upon a line with the other party, 
 and gaining from time to time some information 
 of their movements. Towards the end of the 
 fifth day's march, his little troop approached 
 the city in which he expected to find his uncle ; 
 but at the small town of Charlton, he received 
 intimation from his host that if he were going 
 to join the army of the great Earl of Leicester, 
 it would be well for him to take a large circuit, 
 the road between that place and Gloucester 
 beino: somewhat dangerous. 
 
 " Gilbert de Clare," he said, ^' our good 
 Earl, keeps the forest of Dean with some five 
 thousand men ; and we just this morning heard 
 that the young Lord of Ashby, who left last 
 night, has been taken with all his company. 
 His sister was with him, too, pretty lady; but 
 some say the young lord was not unwilling to 
 liill into the Earl's hands. At all events he 
 was well forewarned, for we told him what 
 would happen when he set out." 
 
304 FOREST DAYS. 
 
 Hugh bit his lip, mused for a moment or 
 two; and then murmuring — " It is not impos- 
 sible," mounted his horse and rode away, taking 
 the road which the host had pointed out as the 
 most secure. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 T. C. SavUl, Printer, 107, St. Martin's Lane.