While this was going forward the rest of the band were occupied in various ways--some striking a light with flint and steel--some gathering together sticks and dried leaves to form a fire--others producing various strange-shaped cooking utensils--while others were assisting their leader in his butcherly task, which he executed with infinite skill and expedition.
As soon as the fire was kindled, Herne distributed certain portions of the venison among his followers, which were instantly thrown upon the embers to broil; while a few choice morsels were stewed in a pan with wine, and subsequently offered to the leader and Wyat.
This hasty repast concluded, the demon ordered the fire to be extinguished, and the quarters of the deer to be carried to the cave.He then mounted his steed, and, attended by Wyat and the rest of his troop, except those engaged in executing his orders, galloped towards Snow Hill, where he speedily succeeded in unharbouring another noble hart.
Away then went the whole party--stag, hounds, huntsmen, sweeping like a dark cloud down the hill, and crossing the wide moonlit glade, studded with noble trees, on the west of the great avenue.
For a while the hart held a course parallel with the avenue; he then dashed across it, threaded the intricate woods on the opposite side, tracked a long glen, and leaping the pales, entered the home park.It almost seemed as if he designed to seek shelter within the castle, for he made straight towards it, and was only diverted by Herne himself, who, shooting past him with incredible swiftness, turned him towards the lower part of the park.
Here the chase continued with unabated ardour, until, reaching the banks of the Thames, the hart plunged into it, and suffered himself to be carried noiselessly down the current.But Herne followed him along the banks, and when sufficiently near, dashed into the stream, and drove him again ashore.
Once more they flew across the home park--once more they leaped its pales--once more they entered the great park--but this time the stag took the direction of Englefield Green.He was not, however, allowed to break forth into the open country; but, driven again into the thick woods, he held on with wondrous speed till the lake appeared in view.
In another instant he was swimming across it.
Before the eddies occasioned by the affrighted animal's plunge had described a wide ring, Herne had quitted his steed, and was cleaving with rapid strokes the waters of the lake.Finding escape impossible, the hart turned to meet him, and sought to strike him with his horns, but as in the case of his ill-fated brother of the wood, the blow was warded by the antlered helm of the swimmer.The next moment the clear water was dyed with blood, and Herne, catching the gasping animal by the head, guided his body to shore.
Again the process of breaking up the stag was gone through; and when Herne had concluded his task, he once more offered his gourd to Sir Thomas Wyat.Reckless of the consequences, the knight placed the flask to his lips, and draining it to the last drop, fell from his horse insensible.
VII.How Wyat beheld Mabel Lyndwood--And how he was rowed by Morgan Fenwolf upon the Lake.
When perfect consciousness returned to him, Wyat found himself lying upon a pallet in what he first took to be the cell of an anchorite; but as the recollection of recent events arose more distinctly before him, he guessed it to be a chamber connected with the sandstone cave.Asmall lamp, placed in a recess, lighted the cell; and upon a footstool by his bed stood a jug of water, and a cup containing some drink in which herbs had evidently been infused.Well-nigh emptying the jug, for he felt parched with thirst, Wyat attired himself, took up the lamp, and walked into the main cavern.No one was there, nor could he obtain any answer to his calls.Evidences, however, were not wanting to prove that a feast had recently been held there.On one side were the scarcely extinguished embers of a large wood fire; and in the midst of the chamber was a rude table, covered with drinking-horns and wooden platters, as well as with the remains of three or four haunches of venison.While contemplating this scene Wyat heard footsteps in one of the lateral passages, and presently afterwards Morgan Fenwolf made his appearance.
"So you are come round at last, Sir Thomas," observed the keeper, in a slightly sarcastic tone.
"What has ailed me? " asked Wyat, in surprise.
"You have had a fever for three days," returned Fenwolf, "and have been raving like a madman.""Three days!" muttered Wyat."The false juggling fiend promised her to me on the third day.""Fear not; Herne will be as good as his word," said Fenwolf."But will you go forth with me? I am about to visit my nets.It is a fine day, and a row on the lake will do you good."Wyat acquiesced, and followed Fenwolf, who returned along the passage.It grew narrower at the sides and lower in the roof as they advanced, until at last they were compelled to move forward on their hands and knees.For some space the passage, or rather hole (for it was nothing more) ran on a level.A steep and tortuous ascent then commenced, which brought them to an outlet concealed by a large stone.
Pushing it aside, Fenwolf crept forth, and immediately afterwards Wyat emerged into a grove, through which, on one side, the gleaming waters of the lake were discernible.The keeper's first business was to replace the stone, which was so screened by brambles and bushes that it could not, unless careful search were made, be detected.
Making his way through the trees to the side of the lake, Fenwolf marched along the greensward in the direction of Tristram Lyndwood's cottage.Wyat mechanically followed him; but he was so pre-occupied that he scarcely heeded the fair Mabel, nor was it till after his embarkation in the skiff with the keeper, when she came forth to look at them, that he was at all struck with her beauty.He then inquired her name from Fenwolf.
