"They should do so by this time," said Herne; "but I will tell thee why Sir Thomas Wyat has undertaken this enterprise.It is not to capture me, though that may be one object that moves him.But he wishes to see Mabel Lyndwood.The momentary glimpse he caught of her bright eyes was sufficient to inflame him.""Ah!" exclaimed Fenwolf," think you so?"
"I am assured of it," replied Herne."He knows the secret of the cave, and will find her there.""But he will never return to tell what he has seen," said Fenwolf moodily.
"I know not that," replied Herne."I have my own views respecting him.
I want to renew my band."
"He will never join you," rejoined Fenwolf.
"What if I offer him Mabel as a bait?" said Herne.
"You will not do so, dread master?" rejoined Fenwolf, trembling and turning pale."She belongs to me.""To thee, fool!" cried Herne, with a derisive laugh."Thinkest thou Iwould resign such a treasure to thee? No, no.But rest easy, I will not give her to Wyat.""You mean her for yourself, then? "said Fenwolf.
"Darest thou to question me? "cried Herne, striking him with the hand armed with the iron gyves."This to teach thee respect."And this to prove whether thou art mortal or rejoined Fenwolf, plucking his hunting-knife from his belt, and striking it with all his force against the other's breast.But though surely and forcibly dealt, the blow glanced off as if the demon were cased in steel, and the intended assassin fell back in amazement, while an unearthly laugh rang in his ears.Never had Fenwolf seen Herne wear so formidable a look as he at that moment assumed.His giant frame dilated, his eyes flashed fire, and the expression of his countenance was so fearful that Fenwolf shielded his eyes with his hands.
"Ah, miserable dog!" thundered Herne; "dost thou think I am to be hurt by mortal hands, or mortal weapons? Thy former experience should have taught thee differently.But since thou hast provoked it, take thy fate!"Uttering these words, he seized Fenwolf by the throat, clutching him with a terrific gripe, and in a few seconds the miserable wretch would have paid the penalty of his rashness, if a person had not at the moment appeared at the doorway.Flinging his prey hastily backwards, Herne turned at the interruption, and perceived old Tristram Lyndwood, who looked appalled at what he beheld.
"Ah, it is thou, Tristram?" cried Herne; "thou art just in time to witness the punishment of this rebellious hound.""Spare him, dread master !oh, spare him!" cried Tristram imploringly.
"Well," said Herne, gazing at the half-strangled caitiff, "he may live.He will not offend again.But why hast thou ventured from thy hiding-place, Tristram?""I came to inform you that I have just observed a person row across the lake in the skiff," replied the old man."He appears to be taking the direction of the secret entrance to the cave.""It is Sir Thomas Wyat," replied Herne, "I am aware of his proceedings.
Stay with Fenwolf till he is able to move, and then proceed with him to the cave.But mark me, no violence must be done to Wyat if you find him there.Any neglect of my orders in this respect will be followed by severe punishment.I shall be at the cave ere long; but, meanwhile, Ihave other business to transact."
And quitting the hut, he plunged into the wood.
Meanwhile, Sir Thomas Wyat, having crossed the lake, landed, and fastened the skiff to a tree, struck into the wood, and presently reached the open space in which lay the secret entrance to the cave.
He was not long in finding the stone, though it was so artfully concealed by the brushwood that it would have escaped any uninstructed eye, and removing it, the narrow entrance to the cave was revealed.
Committing himself to the protection of Heaven, Wyat entered, and having taken the precaution of drawing the stone after him, which was easily accomplished by a handle fixed to the inner side of it, he commenced the descent.At first, he had to creep along, but the passage gradually got higher, until at length, on reaching the level ground, he was able to stand upright.There was no light to guide him, but by feeling against the sides of the passage, he found that he was in the long gallery he had formerly threaded.Uncertain which way to turn, he determined to trust to chance for taking the right direction, and drawing his sword, proceeded slowly to the right.
For some time he encountered no obstacle, neither could he detect the slightest sound, but he perceived that the atmosphere grew damp, and that the sides of the passage were covered with moisture.Thus warned, he proceeded with great caution, and presently found, after emerging into a more open space, and striking off on the left, that he had arrived at the edge of the pool of water which he knew lay at the end of the large cavern.
While considering how he should next proceed, a faint gleam of light became visible at the upper end of the vault.Changing his position, for the pillars prevented him from seeing the source of the glimmer, he discovered that it issued from a lamp borne by a female hand, who he had no doubt was Mabel.On making this discovery, he sprang forwards, and called to her, but instantly repented his rashness, for as he uttered the cry the light was extinguished.
Wyat was now completely at a loss how to proceed.He was satisfied that Mabel was in the vault; but in what way to guide himself to her retreat he could not tell, and it was evident she herself would not assist him.Persuaded, however, if he could but make himself known, he should no longer be shunned, he entered one of the lateral passages, and ever and anon, as he proceeded, repeated Mabel's name in a low, soft tone.The stratagem was successful.Presently he heard a light footstep approaching him, and a gentle voice inquired -"Who calls me?"
"A friend," replied Wyat.
"Your name?" she demanded.
