Monmouth weekly herald. [volume] (Freehold, N.J.) 1854-1860, 1859-05-26

'ioinS, QUO oaiu, L nave no IflcHuS mere
with the first blush of morning | will
procure a good palfrey, and fare forth of
Windsor. Mark must know all.n
"A bright breezy morning had succeeded
the fair calm night, and The sun was vet
low in the horizon, when Mabel Lorne,
mounted upon a spirited p%alfrey, left be
hind her the western outskirts of London,
and pushed merrily on through green
fields and hedges in the direction of
Windsor. Everything looked calm, and
bright, and happy. Mabels eye wandered
over the grand panorama of bill and dale,
and brake, and coppice, stretching out in
all their green loneliness before her; and
as the massive towers of Windsor Castle
rose over the rich expanse, her heart was
50 full, and yet so light, that she felt as
II she could raise her voice and sing as
merrlly as the birds among the branches.
She would not however, have so.much
enjoyed her ride, if she had known who
was pressing in hot haste after her. Faith
er Francis, We y much discomftted by the
Dad success of his attempt, and not being
altogether easy about the consequences,
had watched the maiden more closely
than she was aware Of, and on her setting
out for Windsor-he had aseertained her
destination through a groom,-determ'
ined, although he hardly knew for what
purpose to follow the fugitive. Suddenly
recollecting, therefore, some ecclesiasti-
cal business to be settled with the prior
of a monastery near Datchet, the priest
provided himself with a pacing mule
an animal generally used by the church
men Of the period, and the better breeds
of which were little inferior in powers OF
speed and endurance to the horse-and
was speedily ambling briskly along the
great western road. He saw the fair
country around as though he saw it not
and ~only looked eagerly ahead a every
turn of the road, expecting momently to
behold the fair fugitive. But he was
disappointed-Mabel's palfrey carrie
her well. and when she drew rein at one
of the postern gates of the Castle, the
priest was still a good mile behind.
A yeoman of the guard was standing
sentinel at the little nail studded wicket,
leaning upon his partisan, and whistling
melodiously. To him she addressed her
self:
"You have a comrade named Mark
Huntley," she said fair sir, l would
speak with him."
The soldier looked at her with some
interest, stopped his whistling, and said
hastily, are you Mabel Lorne, fair mis-
tress ?"
"That is my name," said Mabel, blush
ingly.
"Then, by st. George, l am sorry for
thee" returned he of the partisan. Mark
Huntley was a good fellow and a true
and'-
Was" shrieked Mabel" was! He
is not dead ?"
ALMOST as good" replied the sentinel;
" his captain hath accused him of sleeping
on his watch, and that thou knowest is
death-death without redemption"
Mabel sunk upon the ground. The
burly yeoman cursed his own bluntness
in blurting out at once the bad news
=" But she'll soon have another mate" he
muttered, as he stopped over and eudeav
ored to revive her "by my sword hilt
she is fair enough for the bride Of a belted
earl, let alone a poor yeoman."
Bring me to him-bring me to him
or PHYS sake" faltered Mabel.
NAY, that may hardly be, pretty one,'
said the soldier. He is under watch
and ward and by St. George, I think il
be near the time when he will be brought
before the king"
let me at least see him, p~erchancc
soldier. there is some maiden who love;
thee as | do him, and who will one day
plead on her Bonded knees for one las
look on the man for whom her heart i!
breaking"
II will see what can be done," said
the honest yeoman.
He was as good as his word-for sum.
moning some of his comrades, with whom
Mark Huntley had been a general iavo
rite, he spoke apart to them and in a
few minutes Mabel found herself SNUG
gled into a lofty arched hall. with deep
gothic moulded windows, and furnished
With ponderous oaken settles. Her
friends, the yeomen, kept her in the midst
of their group, e~njoining upon her the
necessity of preserving a perfect silence,
Hardly had she looked around her, and
noted a large unoccupied chair covered
with crimson cloth, upon the dais at the
upper end of the hall, when a priest
closely cowled, glided in, and took his
station in a corner of the place. She
saw not his face, but she felt that the
priest was Father Francis. All at once
the groups of officers and knights, who
were sauntering, go:siping. and laughing
through the hall, became silent and place.
themselves round the ~unoccupied chair
there was a moments pause, and a portly
man with a broad, stern face, decorated
with a peaked beard, walked into the hal
His doublet was richly adorned, and a
bis belt he carried a short poniard.
This was King Henry VIII.
Throwing himself carelessly into tn
chair prepared for him, he said in a dee
stern voice, " Bring forth the prisoner an
let his occuser likewise appear"