How Sir Thomas Wyat
found Mabel in the Sandstone Cave, and
what happened to him
there
A week after the foregoing occurrence,
the Earl of Surrey was set free. But his joy
at regaining his liberty was damped by learning that
the Fair Geraldine had departed for Ireland.
She had left the tenderest messages for him with his
sister, the Lady Mary Howard, accompanied with assurances
of unalterable attachment.
But other changes had taken place,
which were calculated to afford him some consolation.
Ever since the night on which he had been told the
Lady Mary was not indifferent to him, Richmond had
devoted himself entirely to her; and matters had already
proceeded so far, that he had asked her in marriage
of the Duke of Norfolk, who, after ascertaining the
king’s pleasure on the subject, had gladly given
his consent, and the youthful pair were affianced
to each other. Surrey and Richmond now became
closer friends than ever; and if, amid the thousand
distractions of Henry’s gay and festive court,
the young earl did not forget the Fair Geraldine,
he did not, at least, find the time hang heavily on
his hands.
About a week after Wolsey’s
dismissal, while the court was still sojourning at
Windsor, Surrey proposed to Richmond to ride one morning
with him in the great park. The Duke willingly
assented, and mounting their steeds, they galloped
towards Snow Hill, wholly unattended. While mounting
this charming ascent at a more leisurely pace, the
earl said to his companion, “I will now tell
you why I proposed this ride to you, Richmond.
I have long determined to follow up the adventure of
Herne the Hunter, and I wish to confer with you about
it, and ascertain whether you are disposed to join
me.”
“I know not what to say, Surrey,”
replied the duke gravely, and speaking in a low tone.
“The king, my father, failed in his endeavours
to expel the demon, who still lords it in the forest.”
“The greater glory to us if we succeed,”
said Surrey.
“I will take counsel with Lady
Mary on the subject before I give an answer,”
rejoined Richmond.
“Then there is little doubt
what your grace’s decision will be,” laughed
Surrey. “To speak truth, it was the fear
of your consulting her that made me bring you here.
What say you to a ride in the forest to-morrow night?”
“I have little fancy for it,”
replied Richmond; “and if you will be ruled
by me, you will not attempt the enterprise yourself.”
“My resolution is taken,”
said the earl; “but now, since we have reached
the brow of the hill, let us push forward to the lake.”
A rapid ride of some twenty minutes
brought them to the edge of the lake, and they proceeded
along the verdant path leading to the forester’s
hut. On arriving at the dwelling, it appeared
wholly deserted, but they nevertheless dismounted,
and tying their horses to the trees at the back of
the cottage, entered it. While they were examining
the lower room, the plash of oars reached their ears,
and rushing to the window, they descried the skiff
rapidly approaching the shore. A man was seated
within it, whose attire, though sombre, seemed to
proclaim him of some rank, but as his back was towards
them, they could not discern his features. In
another instant the skiff touched the strand, and
the rower leaping ashore, proved to be Sir Thomas Wyat.
On making this discovery they both ran out to him,
and the warmest greetings passed between them.
When these were over, Surrey expressed his surprise
to Wyat at seeing him there, declaring he was wholly
unaware of his return from the court of France.
“I came back about a month ago,”
said Wyat. “His majesty supposes me at
Allington; nor shall I return to court without a summons.”
“I am not sorry to hear it,”
said Surrey; “but what are you doing here?”
“My errand is a strange and
adventurous one,” replied Wyat. “You
may have heard that before I departed for France I
passed some days in the forest in company with Herne
the Hunter. What then happened to me I may not
disclose; but I vowed never to rest till I have freed
this forest from the weird being who troubles it.”
“Say you so?” cried Surrey;
“then you are most fortunately encountered,
Sir Thomas, for I myself, as Richmond will tell you,
am equally bent upon the fiend’s expulsion.
We will be companions in the adventure.”
“We will speak of that anon,”
replied Wyat. “I was sorry to find this
cottage uninhabited, and the fair damsel who dwelt
within it, when I beheld it last, gone. What
has become of her?
“It is a strange story,”
said Richmond. And he proceeded to relate all
that was known to have befallen Mabel.
Wyat listened with profound attention
to the recital, and at its close, said, “I think
I can find a clue to this mystery, but to obtain it
I must go alone. Meet me here at midnight to-morrow,
and I doubt not we shall be able to accomplish our
design.”
“May I not ask for some explanation
of your scheme?” said Surrey.
“Not yet,” rejoined Wyat.
“But I will freely confess to you that there
is much danger in the enterprise danger
that I would not willingly any one should share with
me, especially you, Surrey, to whom I owe so much.
If you do not find me here, therefore, to-morrow night,
conclude that I have perished, or am captive.”
“Well, be it as you will, Wyat,”
said Surrey; “but I would gladly accompany you,
and share your danger.”
“I know it, and I thank you,”
returned Wyat, warmly grasping the other’s hand;
“but much nay, all may
remain to be done to-morrow night. You had better
bring some force with you, for we may need it.”
“I will bring half a dozen stout
archers,” replied Surrey “and
if you come not, depend upon it, I will either release
you or avenge you.”
“I did not intend to prosecute
this adventure further,” said Richmond; “but
since you are both resolved to embark in it, I will
not desert you.”
Soon after this, the friends separated, Surrey
and Richmond taking horse and returning to the castle,
discoursing on the unlooked for meeting
with Wyat, while the latter again entered the skiff,
and rowed down the lake. As soon as the hut was
clear, two persons descended the steps of a ladder
leading to a sort of loft in the roof, and sprang upon
the floor of the hut.
“Ho! ho! Ho!” laughed
the foremost, whose antlered helm and wild garb proclaimed
him to be Herne; “they little dreamed who were
the hearers of their conference. So they think
to take me, Fenwolf ha!”
“They know not whom they have
to deal with,” rejoined the latter.
“They should do so by this time,”
said Herne; “but I will tell thee why Sir Thomas
Wyat has undertaken this enterprise. It is not
to capture me, though that may be one object that
moves him. But he wishes to see Mabel Lyndwood.
The momentary glimpse he caught of her bright eyes
was sufficient to inflame him.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Fenwolf, “think
you so?”
“I am assured of it,”
replied Herne. “He knows the secret of the
cave, and will find her there.”
“But he will never return to
tell what he has seen,” said Fenwolf moodily.
“I know not that,” replied
Herne. “I have my own views respecting him.
I want to renew my band.”
“He will never join you,” rejoined Fenwolf.
“What if I offer him Mabel as a bait?”
said Herne.
“You will not do so, dread master?”
rejoined Fenwolf, trembling and turning pale.
“She belongs to me.”
“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.”
And this to prove whether thou art
mortal or rejoined Fenwolf, plucking his hunting-knife
from his belt, and striking it with all his force
against the other’s breast. But though surely
and forcibly dealt, the blow glanced off as if the
demon were cased in steel, and the intended assassin
fell back in amazement, while an unearthly laugh rang
in his ears. Never had Fenwolf seen Herne wear
so formidable a look as he at that moment assumed.
His giant frame dilated, his eyes flashed fire, and
the expression of his countenance was so fearful that
Fenwolf shielded his eyes with his hands.
“Ah, miserable dog!” thundered
Herne; “dost thou think I am to be hurt by mortal
hands, or mortal weapons? Thy former experience
should have taught thee differently. But since
thou hast provoked it, take thy fate!”
Uttering these words, he seized Fenwolf
by the throat, clutching him with a terrific gripe,
and in a few seconds the miserable wretch would have
paid the penalty of his rashness, if a person had not
at the moment appeared at the doorway. Flinging
his prey hastily backwards, Herne turned at the interruption,
and perceived old Tristram Lyndwood, who looked appalled
at what he beheld.
“Ah, it is thou, Tristram?”
cried Herne; “thou art just in time to witness
the punishment of this rebellious hound.”
“Spare him, dread master! oh,
spare him!” cried Tristram imploringly.
“Well,” said Herne, gazing
at the half-strangled caitiff, “he may live.
He will not offend again. But why hast thou ventured
from thy hiding-place, Tristram?”
“I came to inform you that I
have just observed a person row across the lake in
the skiff,” replied the old man. “He
appears to be taking the direction of the secret entrance
to the cave.”
“It is Sir Thomas Wyat,”
replied Herne, “I am aware of his proceedings.
Stay with Fenwolf till he is able to move, and then
proceed with him to the cave. But mark me, no
violence must be done to Wyat if you find him there.
Any neglect of my orders in this respect will be followed
by severe punishment. I shall be at the cave
ere long; but, meanwhile, I have other business to
transact.”
And quitting the hut, he plunged into the wood.
Meanwhile, Sir Thomas Wyat, having
crossed the lake, landed, and fastened the skiff to
a tree, struck into the wood, and presently reached
the open space in which lay the secret entrance to
the cave. He was not long in finding the stone,
though it was so artfully concealed by the brushwood
that it would have escaped any uninstructed eye, and
removing it, the narrow entrance to the cave was revealed.
Committing himself to the protection
of Heaven, Wyat entered, and having taken the precaution
of drawing the stone after him, which was easily accomplished
by a handle fixed to the inner side of it, he commenced
the descent. At first, he had to creep along,
but the passage gradually got higher, until at length,
on reaching the level ground, he was able to stand
upright. There was no light to guide him, but
by feeling against the sides of the passage, he found
that he was in the long gallery he had formerly threaded.
Uncertain which way to turn, he determined to trust
to chance for taking the right direction, and drawing
his sword, proceeded slowly to the right.
For some time he encountered no obstacle,
neither could he detect the slightest sound, but he
perceived that the atmosphere grew damp, and that
the sides of the passage were covered with moisture.
Thus warned, he proceeded with great caution, and
presently found, after emerging into a more open space,
and striking off on the left, that he had arrived
at the edge of the pool of water which he knew lay
at the end of the large cavern.
While considering how he should next
proceed, a faint gleam of light became visible at
the upper end of the vault. Changing his position,
for the pillars prevented him from seeing the source
of the glimmer, he discovered that it issued from
a lamp borne by a female hand, who he had no doubt
was Mabel. On making this discovery, he sprang
forwards, and called to her, but instantly repented
his rashness, for as he uttered the cry the light
was extinguished.
Wyat was now completely at a loss
how to proceed. He was satisfied that Mabel was
in the vault; but in what way to guide himself to her
retreat he could not tell, and it was evident she
herself would not assist him. Persuaded, however,
if he could but make himself known, he should no longer
be shunned, he entered one of the lateral passages,
and ever and anon, as he proceeded, repeated Mabel’s
name in a low, soft tone. The stratagem was successful.
Presently he heard a light footstep approaching him,
and a gentle voice inquired “Who calls
me?”
“A friend,” replied Wyat.
“Your name?” she demanded.
“You will not know me if I declare
myself, Mabel,” he replied, “but I am
called Sir Thomas Wyat.”
“The name is well known to me,”
she replied, in trembling tones; “and I have
seen you once at my grandfather’s
cottage. But why have you come here? Do
you know where you are?
“I know that I am in the cave
of Herne the Hunter,” replied Wyat; “and
one of my motives for seeking it was to set you free.
But there is nothing to prevent your flight now.”
“Alas! there is,” she
replied. “I am chained here by bonds I cannot
break. Herne has declared that any attempt at
escape on my part shall be followed by the death of
my grandsire. And he does not threaten idly, as
no doubt you know. Besides, the most terrible
vengeance would fall on my own head. No, I
cannot dare not fly. But let us not
talk in the dark. Come with me to procure a light.
Give me your hand, and I will lead you to my cell.”
Taking the small, trembling hand offered
him, Wyat followed his conductress down the passage.
A few steps brought them to a door, which she pushed
aside, and disclosed a small chamber, hewn out of the
rock, in a recess of which a lamp was burning.
Lighting the lamp which she had recently extinguished,
she placed it on a rude table.
“Have you been long a prisoner
here?” asked Wyat, fixing his regards upon her
countenance, which, though it had lost somewhat of
its bloom, had gained much in interest and beauty.
“For three months, I suppose,”
she replied; “but I am not able to calculate
the lapse of time. It has seemed very very
long. Oh that I could behold the sun again, and
breathe the fresh, pure air!
“Come with me, and you shall do so,” rejoined
Wyat.
“I have told you I cannot fly,”
she answered. “I cannot sacrifice my grandsire.”
“But if he is leagued with this
demon he deserves the worst fate that can befall him,”
said Wyat. “You should think only of your
own safety. What can be the motive of your detention?”
“I tremble to think of it,”
she replied; “but I fear that Herne has conceived
a passion for me.”
“Then indeed you must fly,”
cried Wyat; “such unhallowed love will tend
to perdition of soul and body.”
“Oh that there was any hope for me!” she
ejaculated.
“There is hope,” replied
Wyat. “I will protect you will
care for you will love you.”
“Love me!” exclaimed Mabel,
a deep blush overspreading her pale features.
“You love another.”
“Absence has enabled me to overcome
the vehemence of my passion,” replied Wyat,
“and I feel that my heart is susceptible of new
emotions. But you, maiden,” he added coldly,
“you are captivated by the admiration of the
king.”
“My love, like yours, is past,”
she answered, with a faint smile; “but if I
were out of Herne’s power I feel that I could
love again, and far more deeply than I loved before for
that, in fact, was rather the result of vanity than
of real regard.”
“Mabel,” said Wyat, taking
her hand, and gazing into her eyes, “if I set
you free, will you love me?”
“I love you already,”
she replied; “but if that could be, my whole
life should be devoted to you. Ha!” she
exclaimed with a sudden change of tone, “footsteps
are approaching; it is Fenwolf. Hide yourself
within that recess.”
Though doubting the prudence of the
course, Wyat yielded to her terrified and imploring
looks, and concealed himself in the manner she had
indicated. He was scarcely ensconed in the recess,
when the door opened, and Morgan Fenwolf stepped in,
followed by her grandfather. Fenwolf gazed suspiciously
round the little chamber, and then glanced significantly
at old Tristram, but he made no remark.
“What brings you here?” demanded Mabel
tremblingly.
“You are wanted in the cave,” said Fenwolf.
“I will follow you anon,” she replied.
“You must come at once,”
rejoined Fenwolf authoritatively. “Herne
will become impatient.”
Upon this Mabel rose, and, without
daring to cast a look towards the spot where Wyat
was concealed, quitted the cell with them. No
sooner were they all out, than Fenwolf, hastily shutting
the door, turned the key in the lock, and taking it
out, exclaimed, “So we have secured you, Sir
Thomas Wyat. No fear of your revealing the secret
of the cave now, or flying with Mabel ha!
ha!” to here.