I.
How the Earl of Surrey and the Fair Geraldine met in King James's Bower in the Moat--And how they were surprised by the Duke of Richmond.
IN order to preserve unbroken the chain of events with which the lastbook of this chronicle concluded, it was deemed expedient to disturbthe unity of time, so far as it related to some of the less importantcharacters; and it will now be necessary, therefore, to return to themiddle of June, when the Earl of Surrey's term of captivity was drawingto a close.
As the best means of conquering the anxiety produced by the visionexhibited to him by Herne, increased as it was by the loss of the reliche had sustained at the same time, the earl had devoted himself toincessant study, and for a whole month he remained within his chamber.The consequence of his unremitting application was that, though hesucceeded in his design and completely regained his tranquillity, hisstrength gave way under the effort, and he was confined for some days tohis couch by a low fever.
As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to venture forth, he mounted tothe summit of the Round Tower, in the hope that a walk round its breezybattlements might conduce to his restoration to health. The day wasbright and beautiful, and a gentle wind was stirring; and as Surreyfelt the breath of heaven upon his cheek, and gazed upon the glorious.prospect before him, he wondered that his imprisonment had not drivenhim mad. Everything around him, indeed, was calculated to make thesense of captivity painful. The broad and beautiful meads, stretchingout beneath him, seemed to invite a ramble over them; the silver rivercourted a plunge into its waves, the woods an hour's retirement intotheir shady recesses, The bells of Eton College rang out merrily, buttheir sound saddened rather than elated him. The road between Eton andWindsor, then marked by straggling cottages with gardens between them,with here and there a dwelling of a better kind, was thronged with herdsof cattle and their drivers, for a fair was held that day in the town ofWindsor, to which they were hastening. Then there were country maidensand youthful hinds in their holiday apparel, trooping towards thebridge. Booths were erected, near which, in the Brocas meads, the rusticsports of wrestling, running, and casting the bar were going forward,while numbers of boats shot to and fro upon the river, and strains ofmusic proceeded from a large gilt barge moored to its banks. Nearer, andin the broad green plain lying beneath the north terrace, were a companyof archers shooting at the butts. But these sights, instead of affordingpleasure to Surrey, only sharpened the anguish of his feelings by thecontrast they offered to his present position.
To distract his thoughts, he quitted the near view, and let his eye runalong the edge of the horizon, until it rested upon a small speck,which he knew to be the lofty spire of Saint Paul's Cathedral. If, as hesupposed, the Fair Geraldine was in attendance upon Anne Boleyn, at thepalace at Bridewell, she must be under the shadow of this very spire;and the supposition, whether correct or not, produced such quick andstifling emotions, that the tears rushed to his eyes.
Ashamed of his weakness, he turned to the other side of the tower, andbent his gaze upon the woody heights of the great park. These recalledHerne the Hunter; and burning with resentment at the tricks practisedupon him by the demon, he determined that the first use he would make ofhis liberty should be to seek out, and, if possible, effect the captureof this mysterious being. Some of the strange encounters between Herneand the king had been related to him by the officer on guard at theNorman Tower but these only served as stimulants to the adventure. Aftera couple of hours thus passed on the keep, he descended refreshed andinvigorated. The next day he was there again, and the day after that;when, feeling that his restoration was well nigh complete, he requestedpermission to pass the following evening in the dry moat of the donjon.And this was readily accorded him.
Covered with green sod, and shaded by many tall trees growing out ofthe side of the artificial mound on which the keep was built, the fosseoffered all the advantages of a garden to the prisoners who were allowedto take exercise within it. Here, as has been mentioned, King James theFirst of Scotland first beheld, from the battlements above, the lovelyJane Beaufort take her solitary walk, and by his looks and gesturescontrived to make her sensible of the passion with which she inspiredhim; and here at last, in an arbour which, for the sake of the old anddelightful legend connected with it, was kept up at the time of thischronicle, and then bore the name of the royal poet, they had secretlymet, and interchanged their vows of affection.
Familiar with the story, familiar also with the poetic strains to whichthe monarch's passion gave birth, Surrey could not help comparing hisown fate with that of the illustrious captive who had visited the spotbefore him. Full of such thoughts, he pensively tracked the narrow pathwinding between the grassy banks of the fosse--now casting up his eyesto the keep--now looking towards the arbour, and wishing that he hadbeen favoured with such visitings as lightened the captivity of theScottish king. At last, he sought the bower--a charming little nest ofgreen leaves and roses, sheltering a bench which seemed only contrivedfor lovers--and taking out his tablets, began to trace within them somestanzas of that exquisite poem which has linked his name for ever withthe Round Tower. Thus occupied, the time stole on insensibly, and he wasnot aware that he had over-stayed the limits allowed him, till he wasaroused by the voice of the officer, who came to summon him back to hisprison.
"You will be removed to your old lodging, in the Round Tower, to-morrownight, my lord," said the officer.
"For what reason?" demanded the earl, as he followed his conductor upthe steep side of the mound. But receiving no reply, he did not renewthe inquiry.
Entering a door in the covered way at the head of the flight of stepscommunicating with the Norman Tower, they descended them in silence.Just as they reached the foot of this long staircase, the earl chancedto cast back his eyes, and, to his inexpressible astonishment, perceivedon the landing at the head of the steps, and just before the piece ofordnance commanding the ascent, the figure of Herne the Hunter.
Before he could utter an exclamation, the figure retreated through theadjoining archway. Telling the officer what he had seen, Surrey wouldfain have gone in quest of the fiendish spy; but the other would notpermit him; and affecting to treat the matter as a mere creation offancy, he hurried the earl to his chamber in the Curfew Tower.
The next day, Surrey was removed betimes to the Round Tower, and thecause of the transfer was soon explained by the discharge of ordnance,the braying of trumpets and the rolling of drums, announcing the arrivalof the king. From the mystery observed towards him, Surrey was led tothe conclusion that the Fair Geraldine accompanied the royal party;but he in vain sought to satisfy himself of the truth of the surmise byexamining, through the deep embrasure of his window, the cavalcadethat soon afterwards entered the upper quadrangle. Amid the throng ofbeautiful dames surrounding Anne Boleyn he could not be certain that hedetected the Fair Geraldine; but he readily distinguished the Dukeof Richmond among the nobles, and the sight awakened a pang of bitterjealousy in his breast.
The day wore away slowly, for he could not fix his attention upon hisbooks, neither was he allowed to go forth upon the battlements of thetower. In the evening, however, the officer informed him he mighttake exercise within the dry moat if he was so inclined, and he gladlyavailed himself of the permission.
After pacing to and fro along the walk for a short time, he entered thearbour, and was about to throw himself upon the bench, when he observeda slip of paper lying upon it. He took it up, and found a few linestraced upon it in hurried characters. They ran thus:--"The FairGeraldine arrived this morning in the castle. If the Earl of Surreydesires to meet her, he will find her within this arbour at midnight."
This billet was read and re-read by the young earl with feelings ofindescribable transport; but a little reflection damped his ardour,and made him fear it might be a device to ensnare him. There was nocertainty that the note proceeded in any way from the Fair Geraldine,nor could he even be sure that she was in the castle. Still, despitethese misgivings,
the attraction was too powerful to be resisted, andhe turned over the means of getting out of his chamber, but the schemeseemed wholly impracticable. The window was at a considerable heightabove the ramparts of the keep, and even if he could reach them, andescape the notice of the sentinels, he should have to make a seconddescent into the fosse. And supposing all this accomplished how washe to return? The impossibility of answering this latter mentalinterrogation compelled him to give up all idea of the attempt.
On returning to his prison-chamber, he stationed himself at theembrasure overlooking the ramparts, and listened to the regular tread ofthe sentinel below, half resolved, be the consequences what they might,to descend. As the appointed time approached, his anxiety became almostintolerable, and quitting the window, he began to pace hurriedly to andfro within the chamber, which, as has been previously observed, partookof the circular form of the keep, and was supported in certain placesby great wooden pillars and cross-beams. But instead of dissipatinghis agitation, his rapid movements seemed rather to increase it, and atlast, wrought to a pitch of uncontrollable excitement, he cried aloud--"If the fiend were to present himself now, and offer to lead me to her,I would follow him."
Scarcely were the words uttered than a hollow laugh broke from thefarther end of the chamber, and a deep voice exclaimed--"I am ready totake you to her." "I need not ask who addresses me," said Surrey, aftera pause, and straining his eyes to distinguish the figure of the speakerin the gloom.
"I will tell you who I am," rejoined the other. "I am he who visited youonce before--who showed you a vision of the Fair Geraldine--and carriedoff your vaunted relic--ho! ho!"
"Avoid thee, false fiend!" rejoined Surrey, "thou temptest me now invain."
"You have summoned me," returned Herne; "and I will not be dismissed. Iam ready to convey you to your mistress, who awaits you in King James'sbower, and marvels at your tardiness."
"And with what design dost thou offer me this service?" demanded Surrey.
"It will be time enough to put that question when I make any condition,"replied Herne. "Enough, I am willing to aid you. Will you go?"
"Lead on!" replied Surrey, marching towards him.
Suddenly, Herne drew a lantern from beneath the cloak in which he waswrapped, and threw its light on a trap-door lying open at his feet.
"Descend!"
Surrey hesitated a moment, and then plunged down the steps. In anotherinstant the demon followed. Some hidden machinery was then set inmotion, and the trap-door returned to its place. At length, Surreyarrived at a narrow passage, which appeared to correspond in form withthe bulwarks of the keep. Here Herne passed him, and taking the lead,hurried along the gallery and descended another flight of steps, whichbrought them to a large vault, apparently built in the foundation of thetower. Before the earl had time to gaze round this chamber, the demonmasked the lantern, and taking his hand, drew him through a narrowpassage, terminated by a small iron door, which flew open at a touch,and they emerged among the bushes clothing the side of the mound.
"You can now proceed without my aid," said Herne: "but take care not toexpose yourself to the sentinels."
Keeping under the shade of the trees, for the moon was shining brightly,Surrey hastened towards the arbour, and as he entered it, to hisinexpressible delight found that he had not been deceived, but that theFair Geraldine was indeed there.
"How did you contrive this meeting?" she cried, after their firstgreetings had passed. "And how did you learn I was in the castle, forthe strictest instructions were given that the tidings should not reachyou."
The only response made by Surrey was to press her lily hand devotedly tohis lips.
"I should not have ventured hither," pursued the Fair Geraldine, "unlessyou had sent me the relic as a token. I knew you would never part withit, and I therefore felt sure there was no deception."
"But how did you get here?" inquired Surrey.
"Your messenger provided a rope-ladder, by which I descended into themoat," she replied.
Surrey was stupefied.
"You seem astonished at my resolution," she continued; "and, indeed,I am surprised at it myself; but I could not overcome my desire to seeyou, especially as this meeting may be our last. The king, through theLady Anne Boleyn, has positively enjoined me to think no more of youand has given your father, the Duke of Norfolk, to understand that yourmarriage without the royal assent will be attended by the loss of allthe favour he now enjoys."
"And think you I will submit to such tyranny?" cried Surrey.
"Alas!" replied the Fair Geraldine in a mournful tone, "I feel we shallnever be united. This conviction, which has lately forced itself uponmy mind, has not made me love you less, though it has in some degreealtered my feelings towards you."
"But I may be able to move the king," cried Surrey. "I have some claimbesides that of kindred on the Lady Anne Boleyn--and she will obtain hisconsent."
"Do not trust to her," replied the Fair Geraldine. "You may haverendered her an important service, but be not too sure of a return.No, Surrey, I here release you from the troth you plighted to me in thecloisters."
"I will not be released from it!" cried the earl hastily; "neither willI release you. I hold the pledge as sacred and as binding as if we hadbeen affianced together before Heaven."
"For your own sake, do not say so, my dear lord," rejoined the FairGeraldine; "I beseech you, do not. That your heart is bound to me now,I well believe--and that you could become inconstant I will not permitmyself to suppose. But your youth forbids an union between us for manyyears; and if during that time you should behold some fairer face thanmine, or should meet some heart you may conceive more loving--thoughthat can hardly be--I would not have a hasty vow restrain you. Be free,then--free at least for three years--and if at the end of that time youraffections are still unchanged, I am willing you should bind yourself tome for ever."
"I cannot act with equal generosity to you," rejoined Surrey in a toneof deep disappointment. "I would sooner part with life than relinquishthe pledge I have received from you. But I am content that my constancyshould be put to the test you propose. During the long term of myprobation, I will shrink from no trial of faith. Throughout Europe Iwill proclaim your beauty in the lists, and will maintain its supremacyagainst all comers. But, oh! sweet Geraldine, since we have met in thisspot, hallowed by the loves of James of Scotland and Jane Beaufort, letus here renew our vows of eternal constancy, and agree to meet again atthe time you have appointed, with hearts as warm and loving as those webring together now."
And as he spoke he drew her towards him, and imprinted a passionate kisson her lips.
"Let that ratify the pledge," he said.
"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed a deep voice without.
"What was that?" demanded the Fair Geraldine in a tone of alarm.
"You have the relic, have you not?" inquired the earl in a low tone.
"No!" she replied, "your messenger merely showed it to me. But why doyou ask? Ah! I understand. The fiendish laughter that just now soundedin my ears proceeded from--"
"Herne the Hunter," replied Surrey, in a whisper. "But fear nothing. Iwill defend you with my life. Ah! accursed chance! I have no weapon."
"None would avail against him," murmured the Fair Geraldine. "Lead meforth; I shall die if I stay here."
Supporting her in his arms, Surrey complied, but they had scarcelygained the entrance of the arbour, when a tall figure stood before them.It was the Duke of Richmond. A gleam of moonlight penetrating throughthe leaves, fell upon the group, and rendered them distinctly visible toeach other.
"Soh!" exclaimed the duke, after regarding the pair in silence fora moment, "I have not been misinformed. You have contrived a meetinghere."
"Richmond," said Surrey sternly, "we once were dear and loving friends,and we are still honourable foes. I know that I am safe with you. Iknow you will breathe no word about this meeting, either to the FairGeraldine's prejudice or mine.
"You judge me rightly, my lord," repl
ied the duke, in a tone of equalsternness. "I have no thought of betraying you; though, by a word to myroyal father, I could prevent all chance of future rivalry on your part.I shall, however, demand a strict account from you on liberation."
"Your grace acts as beseems a loyal gentleman," replied Surrey."Hereafter I will not fail to account to you for my conduct in any wayyou please."
"Oh! let me interpose between you, my lords," cried the Fair Geraldine,"to prevent the disastrous consequences of this quarrel. I have alreadytold your grace I cannot love you, and that my heart is devoted tothe Earl of Surrey. Let me appeal to your noble nature--to yourgenerosity--not to persist in a hopeless suit."
"You have conquered madam," said the duke, after a pause. "I have beento blame in this matter. But I will make amends for my error. Surrey, Irelinquish her to you."
"My friend!" exclaimed the earl, casting himself into the duke's arms.
"I will now endeavour to heal the wounds I have unwittingly occasioned,"said the Fair Geraldine. "I am surprised your grace should be insensibleto attractions so far superior to mine as those of the Lady MaryHoward."
"The Lady Mary is very beautiful, I confess," said the duke; "and if youhad not been in the way, I should assuredly have been her captive."
"I ought not to betray the secret, perhaps," hesitated the FairGeraldine, "but gratitude prompts me to do so. The lady is not so blindto your grace's merits as I have been."
"Indeed!" exclaimed the duke. "If it be so, Surrey, we may yet bebrothers as well as friends."
"And that it is so I can avouch, Richmond," rejoined the earl, "for I amin my sister's secret as well as the Fair Geraldine. But now that thisexplanation has taken place, I must entreat your grace to conduct theFair Geraldine back to her lodgings, while I regain, the best way I can,my chamber in the Round Tower."
"I marvel how you escaped from it," said Richmond; "but I suppose it wasby the connivance of the officer."
"He who set me free--who brought the Fair Geraldine hither--and who, Isuspect, acquainted you with our meeting, was no other than Herne theHunter," replied Surrey.
"You amaze me!" exclaimed the duke; "it was indeed a tall dark man,muffled in a cloak, who informed me that you were to meet at midnight inKing James's bower in the moat, and I therefore came to surprise you."
"Your informant was Herne," replied Surrey.
"Right!" exclaimed the demon, stepping from behind a tree, where hehad hitherto remained concealed; "it was I--I, Herne the Hunter. AndI contrived the meeting in anticipation of a far different result fromthat which has ensued. But I now tell you, my lord of Surrey, that itis idle to indulge a passion for the Fair Geraldine. You will never wedher."
"False fiend, thou liest!" cried Surrey.
"Time will show," replied Herne. "I repeat, you will wed another--andmore, I tell you, you are blinder than Richmond has shown himself--forthe most illustrious damsel in the kingdom has regarded you with eyes ofaffection, and yet you have not perceived it."
"The Princess Mary?" demanded Richmond.
"Ay, the Princess Mary," repeated Herne. "How say you now, mylord?--will you let ambition usurp the place of love?"
"No," replied Surrey. "But I will hold no further converse with thee.Thou wouldst tempt to perdition. Hence, fiend!"
"Unless you trust yourself to my guidance, you will never reach yourchamber," rejoined Herne, with a mocking laugh. "The iron door inthe mound cannot be opened on this side, and you well know what theconsequence of a discovery will be. Come, or I leave you to your fate."And he moved down the path on the right.
"Go with him, Surrey," cried Richmond.
Pressing the Fair Geraldine to his breast, the Earl committed her to thecharge of his friend, and tearing himself away, followed the steps ofthe demon. He had not proceeded far when he heard his name pronounced bya voice issuing from the tree above him. Looking up, he saw Herne in oneof the topmost branches, and at a sign, instantly climbed up to him. Thethick foliage screened them from observation, and Surrey concluded hisguide was awaiting the disappearance of the sentinel, who was at thatmoment approaching the tree. But such apparently was not the other'sintentions; for the man had scarcely passed than Herne sprang upon theramparts, and the poor fellow turning at the sound, was almost scaredout of his senses at the sight of the dreaded fiend. Dropping hishalbert, he fell upon his face with a stifled cry Herne then motionedSurrey to descend, and they marched together quickly to a low dooropening into the keep. Passing through it, and ascending a flightof steps, they stood upon the landing at the top of the staircasecommunicating with the Norman Tower, and adjoining the entrance toSurrey's chamber.
Apparently familiar with the spot, Herne took down a large key from anail in the wall, against which it hung, and unlocked the door.
"Enter," he said to Surrey, "and do not forget the debt you owe to Hernethe Hunter."
And as the earl stepped into the chamber, the door was locked behindhim.
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