no emblem of servitude, and the rich tunic and buskins seem meet for one of high degree. Knowest thou to whom he belongs?" "I may but guess, lady," replied the damsel, deeply embarrassed, "that yonder archer belongs to a band of free-rangers, who serve not the Norman, Geoffrey de Marchmont, but—” "He is an outlaw," continued the lady, filling up the blank at which the maiden hesitated; "say I rightly?" "So they are called by the Normans," said the damsel," and we may not gainsay them." "But art thou not afeard of journeying alone, or driving thy charge so near their haunts?" enquired the lady. "None, beside the tyrant and the oppressor hath need to fear them, lady," said the damsel. They war not with us, who have burthens heavy enough to bear in chiminage, talliage, and fines. They are bold men; and were it not for them, and the awe their names spread among our task-masters, it would be but little that the Saxon peasant could call his own. They have done many a daring deed, and many an act of kindness, which, I trust, will be recorded for the weal of their souls in heaven." "Kind maiden," said the lady, looking intently on the damsel, and pausing as if undecided in her mind, whether or not to proceed; "I will deal truly with thee, not doubting but that in return thou wilt keep nothing from me, which I may require. debted to me for his life. from my father's anger. coln." Yonder outlaw is in I once preserved him "I have heard thy name uttered with blessings in the secret fastnesses of these woods," replied the damsel; " and many of the kind acts thou hast done since thy father's death, have flown abroad. There are hundreds of ready hearts and strong hands within these forests, that would gladly do thee any service." "I may too soon need their assistance, maiden," said the lady with a sigh, “and it is ou this matter that I would speak; for I cannot openly resist the power against which I am now opposed. Thy father, I have heard, hath great command over the rude people of this forest; and hath, moreover, overthrown the machinations, and withstood the oppressions of the cruel Norman, Sir Geoffrey de Marchmont, into whose power I am even now fearful of falling." "He is indeed cruel," replied the damsel; "ready to inflict and loath to forgive. Even his own followers obey him more through fear than love; and there are those amongst them who have ventured to reveal his secrets; others have fled his service in disgust, and are now numbered amongst the outlaws. I took charge of the herd to stop those quarrels which are ever breaking forth between my father's household and De Marchmont's rangers; for they seldom complain if the cattle wander into the forest-boundary while under my care. It is difficult to keep peace during these turbulent times." "We are now nearing the village," said the lady, “and I thank the blessed Virgin for thus bringing us together. Thou wilt keep this glove," added she, withdrawing it from her beautiful small hand; " and when thou receivest its fellow, whether by day or night, be sure that I am hard bestead. Thy father knew something of my Saxon kindred, and it was my intention to have sought him out on the morrow. I would have thee reveal all that hath passed between us to him. The daughter of Adeleve will not plead before Hereward the Saxon, in deep yellow sunbeams which fell upon the greensward, in unimaginable and picturesque forms. Now and then one of the herd halted to pluck a mouthful of grass, or elevated its head to crop an overhanging branch, while another, paused to low at the entrance of some winding dell, or moved along in an awkward. waddling trot when struck by the slip of hazel which the damsel carried, until safe beyond her reach; when the same slow easy pace was again resumed. There was something graceful, and almost dignified in the maiden's gait; in the stately ease with which she stepped across the glade to fetch up one or other of her loitering charge, or crop a sprig from the fragrant woodbines, that here and there hung waving over the road, and scattered a rich odour on the evening air. Our travellers reined in their horses to allow the herd time to cross the road, when the knight inquired of the damsel, the direction to Newstead Priory. "You have ridden too far, noble sir," answered the maiden, "and should have taken the bridlepath by which the stream runneth; your nearest course will now be by the way my herd has taken, which leadeth to the village of Papple wick, from whence if you ride with fair speed, you may reach the Priory before it is dark." Both the knight and lady were struck with the sweet voice of the maiden; and the correctness of her language, which far excelled the barbarous dialect spoken at that time by the peasantry. The lady stooped gracefully from her saddle, and taking from her pouch a gold piece, presented it to the damsel, saying, "Accept this slight token, kind maiden; it might have fared ill with us, but for meeting with thee; as the day is hastening apace, and we were unacquainted with the paths of this wild forest." "It would ill become me, fair lady," replied the damsel, tendering back the gift, "to take guerdon for so slight a duty; the remembrance of your proffered kindness, without accepting it, is a sufficient reward for a Saxon maiden." Nay, by the blessed Mary!" exclaimed the lady, waving back the offered coin, "thou hast said enough; I will not now take back the trifle, for I am also Saxon, at least by my mother's side. But tell me why thou, who appearest free-born, dost follow so rude an occupation?" |