ve the hart royal into the haye, clapped him on the
shoulder and said, "Thou art a brave huntsman, Morgan. I wish Mab could
only think as well of thee as I do."

To this speech Mabel not only paid no attention, but looked studiously
another way.

"I am glad your grandfather has brought you out to see the chase to-day,
Mabel," observed Morgan Fenwolf.

"I dame not to see the chase, but the king," she replied, somewhat
petulantly.

"It is not every fair maid who would confess so much," observed Fenwolf,
frowning.

"Then I am franker than some of my sex," replied Mabel. "But who is the
strange man looking at us from behind that tree, grandfather!

"I see no one," replied the old forester.

"Neither do I," added Morgan Fenwolf, with a shudder. "You are wilfully
blind," rejoined Mabel. "But see, the person I mentioned stalks forth.
Now, perhaps, he is visible to you both."

And as she spoke, a tall wild-looking figure, armed with a
hunting-spear, emerged from the trees and advanced towards them. The
garb of the newcomer somewhat resembled that of a forester; but his
arms and lower limbs were destitute of covering, and appeared singularly
muscular, while his skin was swarthy as that of a gipsy. His jet-black
hair hung in elf-locks over his savage-looking features.

In another moment he was beside them, and fixed his dark piercing eyes
on Mabel in such a manner as to compel her to avert her gaze.

"What brings you here this morning, Tristram Lyndwood?" he demanded, in
a hoarse imperious tone.

"The same motive that brought you, Valentine Hagthorne," replied the old
forester--"to see the royal chase."

"This, I suppose, is your granddaughter?" pursued Hagthorne.

"Ay," replied Tristram bluntly.

"Strange I should never have seen her before," rejoined the other. "She
is very fair. Be ruled by me, friend Tristram--take her home again. If
she sees the king, ill will come of it. You know, or should know, his
character."

"Hagthorne advises well," interposed Fenwolf. "Mabel will be better at
home."

"But she has no intention of returning at present," replied Mabel. "You
brought me here for pastime, dear grandfather, and will not take me back
at the recommendation of this strange man?"

"Content you, child--content you," replied Tristram kindly. "You shall
remain where you are."

"You will repent it!" cried Hagthorne.

And hastily darting among the trees, he disappeared from view.

Affecting to laugh at the