Mabel, without raising her eyes.
"No one," echoed Harry, chucking her under the chin. "Look me full in
the face, and you will find out your mistake. Marry, if I were the royal
Henry, instead of what I am, a plain Guildford merchant, I should prefer
you to Anne Boleyn."
"Is that said in good sooth, sir?" asked Mabel, slightly raising
her eyes, and instantly dropping them before the ardent gaze of the
self-styled merchant.
"In good sooth and sober truth," replied Henry, rounding his arm and
placing his hand on his lusty thigh in true royal fashion.
"Were you the royal Henry, I should not care for your preference," said
Mabel more confidently. "My grandsire says the king changes his love as
often as the moon changes--nay, oftener."
"God's death!--your grandsire is a false knave to say so! cried Harry.
"Heaven help us! you swear the king's oaths," said Mabel. "And wherefore
not, sweetheart?" said Harry, checking himself. "It is enough to make
one swear, and in a royal fashion too, to hear one's liege lord unjustly
accused. I have ever heard the king styled a mirror of constancy. How
say you, Charles Brandon?--can you not give him a good character?"
"Oh! an excellent character," said Brandon. "He is constancy
itself--while the fit lasts," he added, aside.
"You hear what my friend says, sweetheart," observed Harry; "and I
assure you he has the best opportunities of judging. But I'll be sworn
you did not believe your grand-sire when he thus maligned the king."
"She contradicted me flatly," said Tristram. "But pour out the mead,
girl; our guests are waiting for it."
While Mabel, in compliance with her grandsire's directions, filled the
horn, the door of the cottage was noiselessly opened by Morgan Fenwolf,
who stepped in, followed by Bawsey. He stared inquisitively at the
strangers, but both were so much occupied by the damsel that he remained
unnoticed. A sign from the old forester told him he had better retire:
jealous curiosity, however, detained him, and he tarried till Harry had
received the cup from Mabel, and drained it to her health. He then drew
back, closed the door softly, and joined a dark and mysterious figure,
with hideous lineaments and an antlered helm upon its brows, lurking
outside the cottage.
Meanwhile, a cup of mead having been offered to Brandon, he observed to
his companion, "We must now be setting forth on our journey. Night is
advancing, and we have five long miles to traverse ac
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