Windsor Castle [114]
sire," cried the old man, flinging himself at Henry's feet; "oh, believe it not. Whatever you may judge of me, believe her innocent. She was brought up most devoutly, by a lay sister of the monastery at Chertsey; and she knows nothing, save by report, of what passes in the forest."
"Yet she has seen and conversed with Morgan Fenwolf," the king.
"Not since he was outlawed," said Tristram.
"I saw him to--day, as I was brought to the castle," cried Mabel, "and--" but recollecting that she might implicate her grandfather, she suddenly stopped.
"What said he ?--ha!" demanded the king.
"I will tell your majesty what passed," interposed Nicholas Clamp, stepping forward, "for I was with the damsel at the time. He came upon us suddenly from behind a great tree, and ordered her to accompany him to her grandsire."
"Ha!" exclaimed the king.
"But he had no authority for what he said, I am well convinced," pursued Clamp. "Mabel disbelieved him and refused to go, and I should have captured him if the fiend he serves had not lent him a helping hand."
"What says the prisoner himself to this? " observed the king. "Didst thou send Fenwolf on the errand?"
"I did," replied Tristram. " I sent him to prevent her from going to the castle."
Mabel sobbed audibly.
"Thou art condemned by thy own confession, caitiff," said the king, "and thou knowest upon what terms alone thou canst save thyself from the hangman, and thy grand-daughter from the stake."
"Oh, mercy, sire, mercy! " shrieked Mabel.
"Your fate rests with your grandsire," said the king sternly. "If he chooses to be your executioner he will remain silent."
"Oh, speak, grandsire, speak!" cried Mabel. "What matters the violation of an unholy vow?"
"Give me till to-morrow for consideration, sire," said the old man.
"Thou shalt have till midnight," replied the king; "and till then Mabel shall remain with thee."
"I would rather be left alone," said Tristram.
"I doubt it not," replied the king; " but it shall not be." And without bestowing a look at Mabel, whose supplications he feared might shake his purpose, he quitted the vault with his attendants, leaving her alone with her grandsire.
"I shall return at midnight," he said to the arquebusier stationed at the door; "and meanwhile let no one enter the dungeon--not even the Duke of Suffolk--unless," he added, holding forth his hand to display a ring, "he shall bring this signet."
X. Of the Brief Advantage gained by the Queen and the Cardinal.
As the king, wholly unattended--for he had left the archers at the Curfew Tower--was passing at the back of Saint George's Chapel, near the north transept, he paused for a moment to look at the embattled entrance to the New Commons--a structure erected in the eleventh year of his own reign by James Denton, a canon, and afterwards Dean of Lichfield, for the accommodation of such chantry priests and choristers as had no place in the college. Over the doorway, surmounted by a niche, ran (and still runs) the inscription--
"AEDES PRO SACELLANORUM CHORISTARUM COVIVIIS EXTRUCTA, A.D. 1519."
The building has since been converted into one of the canons' houses.
While he was contemplating this beautiful gateway, which was glimmering in the bright moonlight, a tall figure suddenly darted from behind one of the buttresses of the chapel, and seized his left arm with an iron grasp. The suddenness of the attack took him by surprise; but he instantly recovered himself, plucked away his arm, and, drawing his sword, made a pass at his assailant, who, however, avoided the thrust, and darted with inconceivable swiftness through the archway leading to the cloisters. Though Henry followed as quickly as he could, he lost sight of the fugitive, but just as he was about to enter the passage running between the tomb-house and the chapel, he perceived a person in the south ambulatory evidently anxious to conceal himself, and, rushing up to him and dragging him to the light he found it was no other than the cardinal's jester, Patch.
"What does
"Yet she has seen and conversed with Morgan Fenwolf," the king.
"Not since he was outlawed," said Tristram.
"I saw him to--day, as I was brought to the castle," cried Mabel, "and--" but recollecting that she might implicate her grandfather, she suddenly stopped.
"What said he ?--ha!" demanded the king.
"I will tell your majesty what passed," interposed Nicholas Clamp, stepping forward, "for I was with the damsel at the time. He came upon us suddenly from behind a great tree, and ordered her to accompany him to her grandsire."
"Ha!" exclaimed the king.
"But he had no authority for what he said, I am well convinced," pursued Clamp. "Mabel disbelieved him and refused to go, and I should have captured him if the fiend he serves had not lent him a helping hand."
"What says the prisoner himself to this? " observed the king. "Didst thou send Fenwolf on the errand?"
"I did," replied Tristram. " I sent him to prevent her from going to the castle."
Mabel sobbed audibly.
"Thou art condemned by thy own confession, caitiff," said the king, "and thou knowest upon what terms alone thou canst save thyself from the hangman, and thy grand-daughter from the stake."
"Oh, mercy, sire, mercy! " shrieked Mabel.
"Your fate rests with your grandsire," said the king sternly. "If he chooses to be your executioner he will remain silent."
"Oh, speak, grandsire, speak!" cried Mabel. "What matters the violation of an unholy vow?"
"Give me till to-morrow for consideration, sire," said the old man.
"Thou shalt have till midnight," replied the king; "and till then Mabel shall remain with thee."
"I would rather be left alone," said Tristram.
"I doubt it not," replied the king; " but it shall not be." And without bestowing a look at Mabel, whose supplications he feared might shake his purpose, he quitted the vault with his attendants, leaving her alone with her grandsire.
"I shall return at midnight," he said to the arquebusier stationed at the door; "and meanwhile let no one enter the dungeon--not even the Duke of Suffolk--unless," he added, holding forth his hand to display a ring, "he shall bring this signet."
X. Of the Brief Advantage gained by the Queen and the Cardinal.
As the king, wholly unattended--for he had left the archers at the Curfew Tower--was passing at the back of Saint George's Chapel, near the north transept, he paused for a moment to look at the embattled entrance to the New Commons--a structure erected in the eleventh year of his own reign by James Denton, a canon, and afterwards Dean of Lichfield, for the accommodation of such chantry priests and choristers as had no place in the college. Over the doorway, surmounted by a niche, ran (and still runs) the inscription--
"AEDES PRO SACELLANORUM CHORISTARUM COVIVIIS EXTRUCTA, A.D. 1519."
The building has since been converted into one of the canons' houses.
While he was contemplating this beautiful gateway, which was glimmering in the bright moonlight, a tall figure suddenly darted from behind one of the buttresses of the chapel, and seized his left arm with an iron grasp. The suddenness of the attack took him by surprise; but he instantly recovered himself, plucked away his arm, and, drawing his sword, made a pass at his assailant, who, however, avoided the thrust, and darted with inconceivable swiftness through the archway leading to the cloisters. Though Henry followed as quickly as he could, he lost sight of the fugitive, but just as he was about to enter the passage running between the tomb-house and the chapel, he perceived a person in the south ambulatory evidently anxious to conceal himself, and, rushing up to him and dragging him to the light he found it was no other than the cardinal's jester, Patch.
"What does