seated in the
skiff with Morgan Fenwolf, while Valentine Hagthorne had mounted a black
horse, and was galloping swiftly away. Mabel saw no more. Overcome by
fright, she sank on the ground insensible. When she recovered the storm
had entirely ceased. A heavy shower had fallen, but the sky was now
perfectly clear, and day had begun to dawn. Mabel went to the door of
the hut, and looked forth for her grandfather, but he was nowhere to
be seen. She remained gazing at the now peaceful lake till the sun had
fairly risen, when, feeling more composed, she retired to rest, and
sleep, which had been banished from them during the greater part of the
night, now fell upon her lovely eyelids.

When she awoke, the day was far advanced, but still old Tristram had not
returned; and with a heavy heart she set about her household concerns.
The thought, however, of her anticipated visit to the castle speedily
dispelled her anxiety, and she began to make preparations for setting
out, attiring herself with unusual care. Bouchier had not experienced
much difficulty in persuading her to obey the king's behest, and by his
artful representations he had likewise induced her grandfather to give
his consent to the visit--the old forester only stipulating that she
should be escorted there and back by a falconer, named Nicholas Clamp,
in whom he could put trust; to which proposition Bouchier readily
assented.

At length five o'clock, the appointed hour, arrived, and with it came
Nicholas Clamp. He was a tall, middle-aged man, with yellow hair,
clipped closely over his brows, and a beard and moustaches to match.
His attire resembled that of a keeper of the forest, and consisted of
a doublet and hose of green cloth; but he did not carry a bugle or
hunting-knife. His sole weapon was a stout quarter-staff. After some
little hesitation Mabel consented to accompany the falconer, and they
set forth together.

The evening was delightful, and their way through the woods was marked
by numberless points of beauty. Mabel said little, for her thoughts
were running upon her grandfather, and upon his prolonged and mysterious
absence; but the falconer talked of the damage done by the thunderstorm,
which he declared was the most awful he had ever witnessed; and he
pointed out to her several trees struck by the lightning. Proceeding in
this way, they gained a road leading from Blacknest, when, from behind
a large oak, the trunk of which had concealed him from view,