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Updated: June 11, 2025
"To thee, fool!" cried Herne, with a derisive laugh. "Thinkest thou I would resign such a treasure to thee? No, no. But rest easy, I will not give her to Wyat." "You mean her for yourself, then?" said Fenwolf. "Darest thou to question me?" cried Herne, striking him with the hand armed with the iron gyves. "This to teach thee respect."
The personage who received the command, and who was wildly and fantastically habited, beckoned Wyat to follow him, and after many twistings and turnings brought them to the edge of the lake, where the skiff was lying, with Fenwolf reclining at full length upon its benches.
With this he placed the bugle to his lips, blew a low call upon it, and Fenwolf and Tristram immediately answering the summons, he whispered some instructions to the former, and disappeared down one of the side passages. Fenwolf's, deportment was now more sullen than before. In vain did Mabel inquire from him what Herne was about to do with Sir Thomas Wyat.
The door of the dungeon opened, and the guard ushered in the tall Franciscan friar. "What ho! dog of a prisoner," he cried, "here is a holy man come to pass the night with you in prayer." "He may take his Ave Maries and Paternosters elsewhere-I want them not," replied Fenwolf moodily.
"Your majesty's orders shall be faithfully obeyed," replied Bouchier. Bound hand and foot, Fenwolf was thrown upon the back of a horse, and guarded by two halberdiers, who were prepared to strike him dead on the slightest movement. In this way he was conveyed to the castle, and placed in the guard-chamber of the lower gate till further orders should be issued respecting him.
"It seems so, certes," replied Fenwolf doubtfully. "But I will make sure." While he placed his ear to the door, Mabel gave a signal to Tristram that she was safe. Persuaded that he heard some sound in the chamber, Fenwolf nodded to Tristram that all was right, and resumed his seat. In less than ten minutes he was again asleep.
"I will take my chance," replied Tristram moodily: "my mind is made up to the worst. I will no longer serve this fiend." "What! dare you break your oath?" cried Fenwolf. "Remember the terrible consequences." "I care not for them," replied Tristram. "Harkee, Fenwolf: I know you will not betray me, for you hate him as much as I do, and have as great a desire for revenge.
All this while, her grandfather had averted his face from her, as if fearing to meet her regards, and he now busied himself in striking a light and setting fire to a pile of fagots and small logs of wood. "I thought you told me Herne was here," said Mabel in a tone of bitter reproach, to Fenwolf, who seated himself beside her on the bench. "He will be here ere long," he replied sullenly.
If we could capture him, and deliver him to the king, we might purchase our own pardon." "No, that can never be," said Tristram. "My plan is to destroy him." "Well, let me hear it," said Fenwolf. "Come with me, then," rejoined Tristram. And taking up the lamp, he led the way down a narrow lateral passage.
"It will be time enough to fire it on his return," replied the old forester; "it is but postponing our vengeance for a short time. And now to fix our positions. I will take my station in yon brake." "And I in that hollow tree," said Fenwolf. "Whoever first beholds him shall fire the train." "Agreed!" replied Tristram.
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