hould never have said
what I did if I had thought your friendship within hearing."

"Your royal master will as vainly seek to contend with me as he did to
bury me beneath the oak-tree," cried Herne. "If you want me further,
seek me in the upper chamber."

And with these words he darted up the ladder-like flight of steps and
disappeared.

As soon as they recovered from the fright that had enchained them,
Shoreditch and Paddington rushed forth into the area in front of the
turret, and shouting to those on the roof told them that Herne was in
the upper room--a piece of information which was altogether superfluous,
as the hammering had recommenced, and continued till the clock struck
twelve, when it stopped. Just then, it occurred to Mat Bee to ring the
alarm-bell, and he seized the rope, and began to pull it; but the bell
had scarcely sounded, when the cord, severed from above, fell upon his
head.

At this juncture, the king and the Duke of Suffolk arrived. When told
what had happened, though prepared for it, Henry burst into a terrible
passion, and bestowed a buffet on Mat Bee, that well nigh broke his jaw,
and sent him reeling to the farther side of the chamber. He had not at
first understood that Herne was supposed to be in the upper room; but
as soon as he was made aware of the circumstance, he cried out--"Ah,
dastards! have you let him brave you thus? But I am glad of it. His
capture is reserved for my own hand."

"Do not expose yourself to this risk, my gracious liege," said Suffolk.

"What! are you too a sharer in their womanish fears, Suffolk?" cried
Henry. "I thought you had been made of stouter stuff. If there is
danger, I shall be the first to encounter it. Come," he added, snatching
a torch from an arquebusier. And, drawing his dag, he hurried up the
steep steps, while Suffolk followed his example, and three or four
arquebusiers ventured after them.

Meanwhile Shoreditch and Paddington ran out, and informed Bouchier that
the king had arrived, and was mounting in search of Herne, upon which
the captain, shaking off his fears, ordered his men to follow him, and
opening the little door at the top of the stairs, began cautiously to
descend, feeling his way with his sword. He had got about half-way down,
when Henry sprang upon the platform. The light of the torch fell upon
the ghostly figure of Herne, with his arms folded upon his breast,
standing near the pile of wood, lying between the two staircases. So