Windsor Castle

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  VII.

  How the Train was fired, and what followed the Explosion.

  About ten o'clock in the night under consideration, Surrey and Richmond,accompanied by the Duke of Shoreditch, and half a dozen other archers,set out from the castle, and took their way along the great park, in thedirection of the lake.

  They had not ridden far, when they were overtaken by two horsemen who,as far as they could be discerned in that doubtful light, appearedstalwart personages, and well mounted, though plainly attired. Thenew-comers very unceremoniously joined them.

  "There are ill reports of the park, my masters," said the foremost ofthese persons to Surrey, "and we would willingly ride with you acrossit."

  "But our way may not be yours, friend," replied Surrey, who did notaltogether relish this proposal. "We are not going farther than thelake."

  "Our road lies in that direction," replied the other, "and, if youplease, we will bear you company as far as we go. Come, tell mefrankly," he added, after a pause, "are you not in search of Herne theHunter?"

  "Why do you ask, friend?" rejoined the earl somewhat angrily.

  "Because if so," replied the other, "I shall be right glad to join you,and so will my friend, Tony Cryspyn, who is close behind me. I have anold grudge to settle with this Herne, who has more than once attackedme, and I shall be glad to pay it."

  "If you will take my advice, Hugh Dacre, you will ride on, and leavethe achievement of the adventure to these young galliards," interposedCryspyn.

  "Nay, by the mass! that shall never be," rejoined Dacre, "if they haveno objection to our joining them. If they have, they have only to sayso, and we will go on."

  "I will be plain with you, my masters," said Surrey. "We are determinedthis night, as you have rightly conjectured, to seek out Herne theHunter; and we hope to obtain such clue to him as will ensure hiscapture. If, therefore, you are anxious to join us, we shall be glad ofyour aid. But you must be content to follow, and not lead--and to actas you are directed--or you will only be in the way, and we would ratherdispense with your company."

  "We are content with the terms--are we not, Tony?" said Dacre.

  His companion answered somewhat sullenly in the affirmative.

  "And now that the matter is arranged, may I ask when you propose to go?"he continued.

  "We are on our way to a hut on the lake, where we expect a companion tojoin us," replied Surrey.

  "What! Tristram Lyndwood's cottage?" demanded Dacre.

  "Ay," replied the earl, "and we hope to recover his fair granddaughterfrom the power of the demon."

  "Ha! say you so?" cried Dacre; "that were a feat, indeed!"

  The two strangers then rode apart for a few moments, and conversedtogether in a low tone, during which Richmond expressed his doubts ofthem to Surrey, adding that he was determined to get rid of them.

  The new-comers, however, were not easily shaken off. As soon as theyperceived the duke's design, they stuck more pertinaciously to him andthe earl than before, and made it evident they would not be dismissed.

  By this time they had passed Spring Hill, and were within a mile ofthe valley in which lay the marsh, when a cry for help was heard inthe thicket on the left, and the troop immediately halted. The cry wasrepeated, and Surrey, bidding the others follow him, dashed off in thedirection of the sound.

  Presently, they perceived two figures beneath the trees, whom theyfound, on a nearer approach, were Sir Thomas Wyat, with Mabel in a stateof insensibility in his arms.

  Dismounting by the side of his friend, Surrey hastily demanded how hecame there, and what had happened?

  "It is too long a story to relate now," said Wyat; "but the sum of itis, that I have escaped, by the aid of this damsel, from the clutchesof the demon. Our escape was effected on horseback, and we had to plungeinto the lake. The immersion deprived my fair preserver of sensibility,so that as soon as I landed, and gained a covert where I fanciedmyself secure, I dismounted, and tried to restore her. While I was thusoccupied, the steed I had brought with me broke his bridle, and dartedoff into the woods. After a while, Mabel opened her eyes, but she was soweak that she could not move, and I was fain to make her a couch in thefern, in the hope that she would speedily revive. But the fright andsuffering had been too much for her, and a succession of fainting-fitsfollowed, during which I thought she would expire. This is all. Now, letus prepare a litter for her, and convey her where proper assistance canbe rendered."

  Meanwhile, the others had come up, and Hugh Dacre, flinging himself fromhis horse, and pushing Surrey somewhat rudely aside, advanced towardsMabel, and, taking her hand, said, in a voice of some emotion, "Alas!poor girl! I did not expect to meet thee again in this state."

  "You knew her, then?" said Surrey.

  Dacre muttered an affirmative.

  "Who is this man?" asked Wyat of the earl.

  "I know him not," answered Surrey. "He joined us on the road hither."

  "I am well known to Sir Thomas Wyat," replied Dacre, in a significanttone, "as he will avouch when I recall certain matters to his mind. Butdo not let us lose time here. This damsel claims our first attention.She must be conveyed to a place of safety, and where she can be welltended. We can then return to search for Herne."

  Upon this, a litter of branches were speedily made, and Mabel being laidupon it, the simple conveyance was sustained by four of the archers.The little cavalcade then quitted the thicket, and began to retrace itscourse towards the castle. Wyat had been accommodated with a horse byone of the archers, and rode in a melancholy manner by the side of thelitter.

  They had got back nearly as far as the brow of Spring Hill, when ahorseman, in a wild garb, and mounted on a coal black steed, lashedsuddenly and at a furious pace, out of the trees on the right. Hemade towards the litter, over-turning Sir Thomas Wyat, and before anyopposition could be offered him, seized the inanimate form of Mabel, andplacing her before him on his steed, dashed off as swiftly as he came,and with a burst of loud, exulting laughter.

  "It is Herne! it is Herne!" burst from every lip. And they all startedin pursuit, urging the horses to their utmost speed. Sir Thomas Wyat hadinstantly remounted his steed, and he came up with the others.

  Herne's triumphant and demoniacal laugh was heard as he scoured withthe swiftness of the wind down the long glade. But the fiercestdetermination animated his pursuers, who, being all admirably mounted,managed to keep him fully in view.

  Away! away! he speeded in the direction of the lake; and after him theythundered, straining every sinew in the desperate chase. It was a wildand extraordinary sight, and partook of the fantastical character of adream.

  At length Herne reached the acclivity, at the foot of which lay thewaters of the lake glimmering in the starlight; and by the time he haddescended to its foot, his pursuers had gained its brow.

  The exertions made by Sir Thomas Wyat had brought him a little inadvance of the others. Furiously goading his horse, he dashed down thehillside at a terrific pace.

  All at once, as he kept his eye on the flying figure of the demon, hewas startled by a sudden burst of flame in the valley. A wide circleof light was rapidly described, a rumbling sound was heard like thatpreceding an earth-quake, and a tremendous explosion followed, hurlingtrees and fragments of rock into the air.

  Astounded at the extraordinary occurrence, and not knowing what mightensue, the pursuers reined in their steeds. But the terror of the scenewas not yet over. The whole of the brushwood had caught fire, and blazedup with the fury and swiftness of lighted flax. The flames caught theparched branches of the trees, and in a few seconds the whole grove wason fire.

  The sight was awfully grand, for the wind, which was blowing strongly,swept the flames forward, so that they devoured all before them.

  When the first flash was seen the demon had checked his steed and backedhim, so that he had escaped without injury, and he stood at the edge ofthe flaming circle watching the progress of the devastating element; butat last, finding that his pursuers had
taken heart and were approachinghim, he bestirred himself, and rode round the blazing zone.

  Having by this time recovered from their surprise, Wyat and Surreydashed after him, and got so near him that they made sure of hiscapture. But at the very moment they expected to reach him, he turnedhis horse's head, and forced him to leap over the blazing boundary.

  In vain the pursuers attempted to follow. Their horses refused toencounter the flames; while Wyat's steed, urged on by its franticmaster, reared bolt upright, and dislodged him.

  But the demon held on his way, apparently unscathed in the midst of theflames, casting a look of grim defiance at his pursuers. As he passeda tree, from which volumes of fire were bursting, the most appallingshrieks reached his ear, and he beheld Morgan Fenwolf emerging from ahole in the trunk. But without bestowing more than a glance upon hisunfortunate follower, he dashed forward, and becoming involved in thewreaths of flame and smoke, was lost to sight.

  Attracted by Fenwolf's cries, the beholders perceived him crawl out ofthe hole, and clamber into the upper part of the tree, where he roaredto them most piteously for aid. But even if they had been disposedto render it, it was impossible to do so now; and after terrible andprotracted suffering, the poor wretch, half stifled with smoke, andunable longer to maintain his hold of the branch to which he crept, fellinto the flames beneath, and perished.

  Attributing its outbreak to supernatural agency, the party gazed on inwonder at the fire, and rode round it as closely as their steeds wouldallow them. But though they tarried till the flames had abated, andlittle was left of the noble grove but a collection of charred andsmoking stumps, nothing was seen of the fiend or of the hapless girlhe had carried off. It served to confirm the notion of the supernaturalorigin of the fire, in that it was confined within the mystic circle,and did not extend farther into the woods.

  At the time that the flames first burst forth, and revealed thecountenances of the lookers--on, it was discovered that the self-styledDacre and Cryspyn were no other than the king and the Duke of Suffolk.

  "If this mysterious being is mortal, he must have perished now,"observed Henry; "and if he is not, it is useless to seek for himfurther."

  Day had begun to break as the party quitted the scene of devastation.The king and Suffolk, with the archers, returned to the castle; butWyat, Surrey, and Richmond rode towards the lake, and proceeded alongits banks in the direction of the forester's hut.

  Their progress was suddenly arrested by the sound of lamentation, andthey perceived, in a little bay overhung by trees, which screened itfrom the path, an old man kneeling beside the body of a female, whichhe had partly dragged out of the lake. It was Tristram Lyndwood, and thebody was that of Mabel. Her tresses were dishevelled, and dripping withwet, as were her garments; and her features white as marble. The old manwas weeping bitterly.

  With Wyat, to dismount and grasp the cold hand of the hapless maiden wasthe work of a moment.

  "She is dead!" he cried, in a despairing voice, removing the danktresses from her brow, and imprinting a reverent kiss upon it."Dead!--lost to me for ever!"

  "I found her entangled among those water-weeds," said Tristram, in tonesbroken by emotion, "and had just dragged her to shore when you came up.As you hope to prosper, now and hereafter, give her a decent burial. Forme all is over."

  And, with a lamentable cry, he plunged into the lake, struck out to ashort distance, and then sank to rise no more.

  THUS ENDS THE FIFTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLE OF WINDSOR CASTLE

  BOOK VI. JANE SEYMOUR