There are some days of life when everything appears to combine to heighten the hues of happiness, when not only the sensations in our own bosoms, and the circumstances of our fate are all bright and cheerful, but when every external object, every feature in Nature\'s face seems to smile, and every sound to be in harmony with our feelings. But such hours are too precious to be many; blessed is that life which can count two or three of them; and it has been often remarked, that as at some seasons of the year, a peculiarly fine day generally announces the approach of storm and tempest, so do one of these bright intervals in our cloudy existence precede a period of sorrow, trouble, and disaster.
An hour after daybreak, on as sweet a morning as ever dawned, in the midst of the magnificent scenery of the forest, Hugh de Monthermer and Lucy de Ashby stood by the side of their horses, ready to mount and depart. Love gave its sunshine to each heart. Lucy\'s bosom beat high at her deliverance by her lover. The assurance of her affection--the delight of her presence--the increased hope of obtaining her, rendered his sensations not less joyful. The yellow morning light spread sweetly overhead; the old grey Saxon building rested calm in its ivy robe behind them: every blade of grass was sparkling with a thousand diamonds; every air wafted the breath of the sweet forest flowers; every tree was tuneful with the song of the birds. It was like some happy dream, when imagination, stripping life of its stern realities, revels supreme, and decks the brief moments of sleep with all the boundless treasures of her airy kingdom.
A step nearer to the lodge stood the bold forester; his fine, muscular limbs clear and defined in his tight-fitting garb, and his nut brown hair curling round his thoughtful forehead. A faint smile hung upon his lip as he watched the two lovers, leaving them to proceed as they would, without interrupting them with courtesies. It seemed as if he was reading a pleasant book, of the truth of which he might have some doubt, but which yet interested and amused him; for Robin knew the world too well to suppose that such happiness could last long, but yet his mind was of that firm and hardy nature which clouds not the present with cares and fears of the future, but extracts from every hour its honey, and leaves the rest to fate.
When Hugh de Monthermer had placed Lucy on her horse, he turned to bid their host good bye, frankly holding out his hand.
"Farewell, my lord!" said Robin, taking it. "We shall soon meet again in busier scenes, if I judge right. But where is the guide I promised you? Why, Tangel, Tangel! where are you?" and he raised his voice loud and somewhat sternly. At his last call the dwarf crept forth from behind the house, with a bent head and crouching posture, like an unwilling dog, approaching his master slowly, and eyeing him askance.
"What now--what now?" said Robin Hood. "Did I not give you orders? Where is the horse?"
"I would fain not go," cried the dwarf. "Let me stay with thee, Robin, let me stay with thee. Send Smooth Face, send White Skin, send Harry the page.--If the fool can\'t take care of himself, and must have a boy to lead him about the world, like a blind beggar, send young Porkflesh with him.--Why should he take me?"
"Nay, my good friend," said Hugh de Monthermer, seeing the bold forester about to speak somewhat angrily, "Let the lad stay with thee! I shall find my way well enough; his only fault is loving thee well."
"Those that love me obey me," replied Robin Hood; "and, my good lord, he must do so, or never see me more. It is not alone to guide you through the forest I send him with you; you must take him to Hereford, and keep him till we meet again. You will find him faithful and true, crafty and active, though he shews himself so unruly at present; and in these dangerous times it may be of great service both to you and me that you should have some one with you who knows every man in my band. I may have to convey intelligence to you and to the good lord, your uncle; for I gain a knowledge of all that takes place throughout the land, which my Lord of Leicester, with all his power, cannot attain. It is needful that you should have some means of knowing which messengers are really mine, and which are not, for these are times full of deceit, and human cunning is more busily at work than the world ever saw, I believe. If anybody comes to you in my name, call for this boy, and make him tell you whether he be one of my people or not. Go, Tangel; and let me hear that you have done your duty."
"Come, my boy--come!" said Hugh de Monthermer, speaking to him kindly; "I will try to make thee as happy as may be; and thou shalt love me, whether thou wilt or not."
"Goodsooth, I love thee well enough," replied the dwarf, "though I have no weakness for men in purfled jerkins. I love thee well enough, though not so well as him; but what must be, must be. Poor Tangel has always been Fate\'s foot-ball. Well, I will get the horse."
So saying, he stretched out his long arms, put his hands suddenly upon the shoulders of Lucy\'s two maids, who were standing close together, and vaulting over them with a leap that made them both scream, he bounded round the angle of the building, and soon reappeared, leading a small brown forest horse, furnished with saddle-bags for his journey.
As soon as the whole party were mounted, the Outlaw approached the side of Hugh de Monthermer\'s horse, and, looking up in his face, said a few words to him in a low tone which seemed to excite some surprise.
"Indeed!" exclaimed the young knight; "but are you certain?"
"As certain," replied Robin Hood, "as of that being a magpie in the tree."
"Then you must have taken some means to delude them," said Hugh de Monthermer.
"Not I," answered Robin Hood, "I always leave fools to delude themselves; they are sure to do it more cleverly than I could. However, it was necessary that you should know the fact, so I tell you. Now, God speed you, sir--we shall meet again soon."
In a moment or two after, the little cavalcade was moving along through the glades of the forest, Tangel riding on before, in somewhat sullen mood, followed at the distance of about twenty yards by Lucy and her lover, with a discreet space between them and the maids who followed. The pace at which they proceeded was not quick, for those were hours which two at least of the party would willingly have spun out slowly--a fine golden thread, which they feared would end only too soon.
But why should I pause upon their happiness? Why should I relate what each said to the other? The stream of human pleasure, except when it falls in the fierce cataract of passion, is so calm and smooth that there is little to describe. Let each one bring such a moment home to his own breast; let him fancy himself riding by the side of her whom he loves best through scenes as fair, with hopes as bright, and his own heart will present him a better picture than any which my hand could draw. They soon emerged from the deeper part of the wood, and wound slowly on through the mingled savannahs and copses which occupied a considerable part of the forest ground, till they came upon a high road running from Nottingham to some of the Yorkshire towns, with a finger-post--which is a much older invention than is generally supposed--marking the various paths towards Mansfield, Southwell, and other small places within the meres of the forest.
To say the truth, Hugh de Monthermer, with a true lover\'s forgetfulness, had never remembered to give their dwarfish guide any orders as to the direction he should take, and the first thing that called the necessity to his mind was the question which that finger-post mutely put to the traveller.
"I fear, dear Lucy," he said, "that Lindwell is not far off, and thither I suppose I must conduct you direct, although it is sad to bring such happy moments as these to an end."
"I fear it must be so," answered Lucy, with a sigh; "my father will be anxious, you know, till he sees me again, and I must think of him before myself, Hugh."
"But if it be on his account you would go to Lindwell," replied her lover, "you will be disappointed, dear Lucy, for he is not there. Judging hastily that you must have been carried off by some emissary of the King\'s party, in order to detach him from the English cause, he and your brother have, I find, gone on in the direction of Gloucester likewise."
"Oh, then I will not stay at Lindwell all alone," cried Lucy, gaily--"I should be as melancholy as one of the rooks that haunt the old trees round it; and besides," she added, perhaps not ill-pleased at having a good excuse to go on under her lover\'s protection--"and besides, who can tell what might happen. The foreign party are strong in Nottingham and all the neighbouring places, and I might have to put on armour and defend Lindwell against an army. No, no, Hugh, if you are a good knight and true, you will guide me on to seek my father till we have found him. By my sooth, I would rather have remained with the blithe foresters than be confined to Lindwell, with all the chances of these evil times."
The reader may easily suppose that Hugh de Monthermer was not at all dissatisfied with Lucy\'s decision, and as he was one whose heart was no way faint, he doubted not that he should be able to guide her safely and well to her father\'s side, although he could not conceal from himself, and would not conceal from her, that there were difficulties and dangers in the way.
"You put a hard task upon me, Lucy," he said, laughing.
"What mean you, uncourteous knight!" she asked, in the same tone;--"This is the first time that I ever met a gentleman unwilling to guide and protect me whithersoever I went.--A mighty hard task, truly!"
"No, by those bright eyes," replied Hugh, "that is not the task I speak of; but it is to persuade you not to do that which I most wish you would. I mean, dear Lucy, that I must dissuade you from going on, though to ride beside you thus, for two or three days more, were worth a whole year of any other part of life. But I cannot let you choose without telling you that there is many a peril to be encountered between this and Gloucester. Gilbert de Clare, whose faith has long been doubtful it is now ascertained, is ready to take arms a............