XI.
How Tristram Lyndwood and Mabel were liberated.
Intelligence of the queen's return was instantly conveyed to AnneBoleyn, and filled her with indescribable alarm. All her visions ofpower and splendour seemed to melt away at once. She sent for herfather, Lord Rochford, who hurried to her in a state of the utmostanxiety, and closely questioned her whether the extraordinary change hadnot been occasioned by some imprudence of her own. But she positivelydenied the charge, alleging that she had parted with the king scarcelyan hour before on terms of the most perfect amity, and with the fullconviction that she had accomplished the cardinal's ruin.
"You should not have put forth your hand against him till you were sureof striking the blow," said Rochford. "There is no telling what secretinfluence he has over the king; and there may yet be a hard battle tofight. But not a moment must be lost in counteracting his operations.Luckily, Suffolk is here, and his enmity to the cardinal will make hima sure friend to us. Pray Heaven you have not given the king freshoccasion for jealousy! That is all I fear."
And quitting his daughter, he sought out Suffolk, who, alarmed at whatappeared like a restoration of Wolsey to favour, promised heartily toco-operate with him in the struggle; and that no time might be lost,the duke proceeded at once to the royal closet, where he found the kingpacing moodily to and fro.
"Your majesty seems disturbed," said the duke.
"Disturbed!--ay!" exclaimed the king. "I have enough to disturb me. Iwill never love again. I will forswear the whole sex. Harkee, Suffolk,you are my brother, my second self, and know all the secrets ofmy heart. After the passionate devotion I have displayed for AnneBoleyn--after all I have done for her--all I have risked for her--I havebeen deceived."
"Impossible, my liege?" exclaimed Suffolk.
"Why, so I thought," cried Henry, "and I turned a deaf ear to allinsinuations thrown out against her, till proof was afforded which Icould no longer doubt."
"And what was the amount of the proof, my liege?" asked Suffolk.
"These letters," said Henry, handing them to him, "found on the personof Sir Thomas Wyat."
"But these only prove, my liege, the existence of a formerpassion--nothing more," remarked Suffolk, after he had scanned them.
"But she vows eternal constancy to him!" cried Henry; "says she shallever love him--says so at the time she professes devoted love for me!How can I trust her after that? Suffolk, I feel she does not love meexclusively; and my passion is so deep and devouring, that it demandsentire return. I must have her heart as well as her person; and I feel Ihave only won her in my quality of king."
"I am persuaded your majesty is mistaken," said the duke. "Would Icould think so!" sighed Henry. "But no--no, I cannot be deceived. Iwill conquer this fatal passion. Oh, Suffolk! it is frightful to be thebondslave of a woman--a fickle, inconstant woman. But between the depthsof love and hate is but a step; and I can pass from one to the other."
"Do nothing rashly, my dear liege," said Suffolk; "nothing that maybring with it after-repentance. Do not be swayed by those who haveinflamed your jealousy, and who could practise upon it. Think thematter calmly over, and then act. And till you have decided, see neitherCatherine nor Anne; and, above all, do not admit Wolsey to your secretcounsels."
"You are his enemy, Suffolk," said the king sternly.
"I am your majesty's friend," replied the duke. "I beseech you, yield tome on this occasion, and I am sure of your thanks hereafter."
"Well, I believe you are right, my good friend and brother," said Henry,"and I will curb my impulses of rage and jealousy. To-morrow, before Isee either the queen or Anne, we will ride forth into the forest, andtalk the matter further over."
"Your highness has come to a wise determination," said the duke.
"Oh, Suffolk!" sighed Henry, "would I had never seen this siren! Sheexercises a fearful control over me, and enslaves my very soul."
"I cannot say whether it is for good or ill that you have met, my dearliege," replied Suffolk, "but I fancy I can discern the way in whichyour ultimate decision will be taken. But it is now near midnight. Iwish your majesty sound and untroubled repose."
"Stay!" cried Henry, "I am about to visit the Curfew Tower, and musttake you with me. I will explain my errand as we go. I had some thoughtof sending you there in my stead. Ha!" he exclaimed, glancing at hisfinger, "By Saint Paul, it is gone!"
"What is gone, my liege?" asked Suffolk.
"My signet," replied Henry, "I missed it not till now. It has beenwrested from me by the fiend, during my walk from the Curfew Tower. Letus not lose a moment, or the prisoners will be set free by him,--if theyhave not been liberated already."
So saying, he took a couple of dags--a species of short gun--from arest on the wall, and giving one to Suffolk, thrust the other into hisgirdle. Thus armed, they quitted the royal lodgings, and hurried inthe direction of the Curfew Tower. Just as they reached the HorseshoeCloisters, the alarm-bell began to ring.
"Did I not tell you so?" cried Henry furiously; "they have escaped. Ha!it ceases!--what has happened?"
About a quarter of an hour after the king had quitted the Curfew Tower,a tall man, enveloped in a cloak, and wearing a high conical cap,presented himself to the arquebusier stationed at the entrance to thedungeon, and desired to be admitted to the prisoners.
"I have the king's signet," he said, holding forth the ring. On seeingthis, the arquebusier, who recognised the ring, unlocked the door, andadmitted him. Mabel was kneeling on the ground beside her grandsire,with her hands raised as in prayer, but as the tall man entered thevault, she started to her feet, and uttered a slight scream.
"What is the matter, child?" cried Tristram..
"He is here!--he is come!" cried Mabel, in a tone of the deepest terror.
"Who--the king?" cried Tristram, looking up. "Ah! I see! Herne is cometo deliver me."
"Do not go with him, grandsire," cried Mabel. "In the name of all thesaints, I implore you, do not."
"Silence her!" said Herne in a harsh, imperious voice, "or I leave you."
The old man looked imploringly at his granddaughter.
"You know the conditions of your liberation?" said Herne.
"I do--I do," replied Tristram hastily, and with a shudder.
"Oh, grandfather!" cried Mabel, falling at his feet, "do not, I conjureyou, make any conditions with this dreaded being, or it will be at theexpense of your salvation. Better I should perish at the stake--betteryou should suffer the most ignominious death, than this should be."
"Do you accept them?" cried Herne, disregarding her supplications.
Tristram answered in the affirmative.
"Recall your words, grandfather--recall your words!" cried Mabel. "Iwill implore pardon for you on my knees from the king, and he will notrefuse me."
"The pledge cannot be recalled, damsel," said Herne; "and it is to saveyou from the king, as much as to accomplish his own preservation, thatyour grandsire consents. He would not have you a victim to Henry'slust." And as he spoke, he divided the forester's bonds with his knife."You must go with him, Mabel," he added.
"I will not!" she cried. "Something warns me that a great danger awaitsme."
"You must go, girl," cried Tristram angrily. "I will not leave you toHenry's lawless passion."
Meanwhile, Herne had passed into one of the large embrasures, andopened, by means of a spring, an entrance to a secret staircase inthe wall. He then beckoned Tristram towards him, and whispered someinstructions in his ear.
"I understand," replied the old man.
"Proceed to the cave," cried Herne, "and remain there till I join you."
Tristram nodded assent.
"Come, Mabel!" he cried, advancing towards her, and seizing her hand.
"Away!" cried Herne in a menacing tone.
Terrified by the formidable looks and gestures of the demon, the poorgirl offered no resistance, and her grandfather drew her into theopening, which was immediately closed after her.
About an hour after this, and when it was near upon the stroke ofmidnight, the arquebusier who had admitted the tall stranger to thedungeon, and who had momentarily expected his coming forth, opened thedoor to see what was going forward. Great was his astonishment to findthe cell empty! After looking around in bewilderment, he rushed to thechamber above, to tell his comrades what had happened.
"This is clearly the work of the fiend," said Shoreditch; "it is uselessto strive against him."
"That tall black man was doubtless Herne himself." said Paddington. "Iam glad he did us no injury. I hope the king will not provoke his malicefurther."
"Well, we must inform Captain Bouchier of the mischance," saidShoreditch. "I would not be in thy skin, Mat Bee, for a trifle. The kingwill be here presently, and then--"
"It is impossible to penetrate through the devices of the evil one,"interrupted Mat. "I could have sworn it was the royal signet, for I sawit on the king's finger as he delivered the order. I wish such anotherchance of capturing the fiend would occur to me."
As the words were uttered, the door of a recess was thrown suddenlyopen, and Herne, in his wild garb, with his antlered helm upon his brow,and the rusty chain depending from his left arm, stood before them. Hisappearance was so terrific and unearthly that they all shrank aghast,and Mat Bee fell with his face on the floor.
"I am here!" cried the demon. "Now, braggart, wilt dare to seize me?"
But not a hand was moved against him. The whole party seemed transfixedwith terror.
"You dare not brave my power, and you are right," cried Herne--"a waveof my hand would bring this old tower about your ears--a word wouldsummon a legion of fiends to torment you."
"But do not utter it, I pray you, good Herne--excellent Herne," criedMat Bee. "And, above all things, do not wave your hand, for we have nodesire to be buried alive,--have we, comrades? I should never have saidwhat I did if I had thought your friendship within hearing."
"Your royal master will as vainly seek to contend with me as he did tobury me beneath the oak-tree," cried Herne. "If you want me further,seek me in the upper chamber."
And with these words he darted up the ladder-like flight of steps anddisappeared.
As soon as they recovered from the fright that had enchained them,Shoreditch and Paddington rushed forth into the area in front of theturret, and shouting to those on the roof told them that Herne was inthe upper room--a piece of information which was altogether superfluous,as the hammering had recommenced, and continued till the clock strucktwelve, when it stopped. Just then, it occurred to Mat Bee to ring thealarm-bell, and he seized the rope, and began to pull it; but the bellhad scarcely sounded, when the cord, severed from above, fell upon hishead.
At this juncture, the king and the Duke of Suffolk arrived. When toldwhat had happened, though prepared for it, Henry burst into a terriblepassion, and bestowed a buffet on Mat Bee, that well nigh broke his jaw,and sent him reeling to the farther side of the chamber. He had not atfirst understood that Herne was supposed to be in the upper room; butas soon as he was made aware of the circumstance, he cried out--"Ah,dastards! have you let him brave you thus? But I am glad of it. Hiscapture is reserved for my own hand."
"Do not expose yourself to this risk, my gracious liege," said Suffolk.
"What! are you too a sharer in their womanish fears, Suffolk?" criedHenry. "I thought you had been made of stouter stuff. If there isdanger, I shall be the first to encounter it. Come," he added, snatchinga torch from an arquebusier. And, drawing his dag, he hurried up thesteep steps, while Suffolk followed his example, and three or fourarquebusiers ventured after them.
Meanwhile Shoreditch and Paddington ran out, and informed Bouchier thatthe king had arrived, and was mounting in search of Herne, upon whichthe captain, shaking off his fears, ordered his men to follow him, andopening the little door at the top of the stairs, began cautiously todescend, feeling his way with his sword. He had got about half-way down,when Henry sprang upon the platform. The light of the torch fell uponthe ghostly figure of Herne, with his arms folded upon his breast,standing near the pile of wood, lying between the two staircases. Soappalling was the appearance of the demon, that Henry stood still togaze at him, while Bouchier and his men remained irresolute on thestairs. In another moment, the Duke of Suffolk had gained the platform,and the arquebusiers were seen near the head of the stairs.
"At last, thou art in my power, accursed being!" cried Henry. "Thou arthemmed in on all sides, and canst not escape!"
"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Herne.
"This shall prove whether thou art human or not," cried Henry, takingdeliberate aim at him with the dag.
"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Herne. And as the report rang through the room, hesank through the floor, and disappeared from view.
"Gone!" exclaimed Henry, as the smoke cleared off; "gone! Holy Mary!then it must indeed be the fiend. I made the middle of his skull my aim,and if he had not been invulnerable, the bullet must have pierced hisbrain.
"I heard it rebound from his horned helmet, and drop to the floor," saidBouchier.
"What is that chest?" cried Henry, pointing to a strange coffin-shapedbox, lying, as it seemed, on the exact spot where the demon haddisappeared.
No one had seen it before, though all called to mind the mysterioushammering; and they had no doubt that the coffin was the work of thedemon.
"Break it open," cried Henry; "for aught we know, Herne may be concealedwithin it."
The order was reluctantly obeyed by the arquebusiers. But no force wasrequired, for the lid was not nailed down; and when it was removed, ahuman body in the last stage of decay was discovered.
"Pah! close it up," cried Henry, turning away in disgust. "How came itthere?"
"It must have been brought by the powers of darkness," said Bouchier;"no such coffin was here when I searched the chamber two hours ago. Butsee," he suddenly added, stooping down, and picking up a piece of paperwhich had fallen from the coffin, "here is a scroll."
"Give it me!" cried Henry; and holding it to the light, he read thewords, "The body of Mark Fytton, the butcher, the victim of a tyrant'scruelty."
Uttering a terrible imprecation, Henry flung the paper from him; andbidding the arquebusiers burn the body at the foot of the gallowswithout the town, he quitted the tower without further search.
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