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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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