arrival at Kenilworth, without which he could not
have remained all these years away from the Andredsweald. Her death
had partially (only partially) snapped the link which bound him to
his kindred, the love of whom now began to revive in the breast of
the convalescent.

Chapter 14: May Day In Lewes.

It was the May Day of 1259, one of the brightest days of the
calendar. The season was well forward, the elms and bushes had
arrayed themselves in their brightest robe of green; the hedges
were white and fragrant with may; the anemone, the primrose, the
cowslip, and blue bell carpeted the sward of the Andredsweald; the
oaks and poplars were already putting on their summer garb. The
butterflies settled upon flower after flower; the bees were
rejoicing in their labour; their work glowed, and the sweet honey
was fragrant with thyme.

Oh how lovely were the works of God upon that bright May Day, as
from village church and forest sanctuary the population of Sussex
poured out from the portals, after the mass of Saints Philip and
James; the children bearing garlands and dressed in a hundred
fantastic hues, the May-poles set up on every green, the Queen of
May chosen by lot from amongst the village maidens.

Never were sweeter nooks, wherein to spend Maytide, than around the
villages and hamlets of the Andredsweald, whither the action of our
tale betakes itself again--around Chiddinglye, Hellinglye,
Alfristun, Selmestun, Heathfeld, Mayfeld, and the like--not, as
now, accessible by rail and surrounded by arable lands; but
settlements in the forest, with the mighty oaks and beeches which
had perchance seen the coming of Ella and Cissa, long ere the
Norman set foot in Angleland; and with solemn glades where the wind
made music in the tree tops, and the graceful deer bounded athwart
the avenue, to seek refuge in tangled brake and inaccessible
morass.

Chief amongst these Sussex towns and villages was the old borough
of Lewes, distinguished alike by castle and priory. The modern
visitor may still ascend to the summit of the highest tower of that
castle, but how different (yet how much the same) was the scene
which a young knight viewed thence on this May Day of 1259. He had
come up there to take his last look at the fair land of England ere
he left it for years, it might be never to return.

"It is a fair land; God keep it till I return."

The great lines of Downs stretched away--northwest to Ditchling
Beacon; southwest