egards, and he now busied himself in striking a
light and setting fire to a pile of fagots and small logs of wood.

"I thought you told me Herne was here," said Mabel in a tone of bitter
reproach, to Fenwolf, who seated himself beside her on the bench.

"He will be here ere long," he replied sullenly.

"Oh, do not detain Sir Thomas Wyat!" cried Mabel piteously; "do not
deliver him to your dread master! Do what you will with me--but let him
go."

"I will tell you what I will do," replied Fenwolf, in a low tone;
"I will set Sir Thomas at liberty, and run all risks of Herne's
displeasure, if you will promise to be mine."

Mabel replied by a look of unutterable disgust.

"Then he will await Herne's coming where he is," rejoined Fenwolf.

Saying which he arose, and, pushing a table near the bench, took the
remains of a huge venison pasty and a loaf from a hutch standing on one
side of the cavern.

By this time Old Tristram, having succeeded in lighting the fire, placed
himself at the farther end of the table, and fell to work upon the
viands with Fenwolf. Mabel was pressed to partake of the repast, but she
declined the offer. A large stone bottle was next produced and emptied
of its contents by the pair, who seemed well contented with their
regale.

Meanwhile Mabel was revolving the possibility of flight, and had more
than once determined to make an attempt, but fear restrained her. Her
grandsire, as has been stated, sedulously avoided her gaze, and turned a
deaf ear to her complaints and entreaties. But once, when Fenwolf's back
was turned, she caught him gazing at her with peculiar significance, and
then comprehended the meaning of his strange conduct. He evidently only
awaited an opportunity to assist her.

Satisfied of this, she became more tranquil, and about an hour having
elapsed, during which nothing was said by the party, the low winding of
a horn was heard, and Fenwolf started to his feet, exclaiming--

"It is Herne!"

The next moment the demon huntsman rode from one of the lateral passages
into the cave. He was mounted on a wild-looking black horse, with
flowing mane and tail, eyes glowing like carbuncles, and in all respects
resembling the sable steed he had lost in the forest.

Springing to the ground, he exchanged a few words with Fenwolf in a low
tone, and delivering his steed to him, with orders to take it to the
stable, signed to Tristram to go with him, and approached Mabel.

"So you have s