CHAPTER IX. Trust me each state must have its politics: Old Play. THE day-light had dawned upon the glades of the oak forest. The green boughs glittered with all their pearls of dew. The hind led her fawn from the covert of a high fern to the more open walks of the greenwood; and no huntsman was there to watch or intercept the stately hart, as he paced at the head of the antlered herd. The outlaws were all assembled around the Trysting-tree in the Harthill-walk, where they had spent the night in refreshing themselves after the fatigues of the siege, some with wine, some with slumber, many with hearing and recounting the events of the day and computing the heaps of plunder which their success had placed at the disposal of their chief. The spoils were indeed very large; for notwithstanding that was much consumed, a great deal of plate, rich armour, and splendid clothing had been secured by the exertions of the dauntless outlaws, who could be appalled by no danger when such rewards were in view. Yet so strict were the laws of their society, that no one ventured to appropriate any part of the booty, which was brought into one com. mon mass to be at the disposal of their leader. The place of rendezvous was an aged oak; not however the same to which Locksley had conducted Gurth and Wamba in the earlier part of the story, but one which was the centre of a sylvan amphitheatre, within half a mile of the demolished castle of Torquistone. Here Locksley assumed his seat--a throne of turf erected under the twisted branches of the huge oak, and his sylvan followers were gathered around him. He assigned to the Black Knight a seat at his right hand, and to Cedric a place upon his left. "Pardon my freedom, noble sirs," he said, "but in these glades I am monarch-they are my kingdom; and these my wild subjects would reck but little of my power, were I, within my own dominions, to yield place to mortal man.--Now, sirs, who hath seen our chaplain? where is our curtal Friar? A mass amongst Christian men best begins a busy morning."-No one had seen the Clerk of Copmanhurst. Over gods forebode," said the outlaw Chief, "I trust the jolly priest hath but abiden by the wine-pot a thought too late. Who saw him since the castle was ta'en?" " "I," quoth the Miller, " marked him busy about the door of a cellar swearing by each saint in the calender he would taste the smack of Front-deBouf's Goscogne wine." "Now, the saints, as many as there be of them," said the captain, "forefend, lest he has drunk too deep of the wine-buts, and perished by the fall of the castle! Away, Miller?-Take with you enow of men, seek the place where you last saw him-throw water from the moat on the scorching ruins-I will have them. removed stone by stone ere I lose my curtal Friar." The numbers who hastened to execute, this duty, considering that an interesting division of spoil was about to take place, showed him how much the troop had at heart the safety of their spiritual father. "Meanwhile let us proceed," said Locksley; "for when this bold deed shall be sounded abroad, the bands of De Bracy, of Malvoisin, and other allies of Front-de-Bœuf, will be in motion against us, and it were well that we proceed in time for our safety. -Noble Cedric," he said, turning to the Saxon, "that spoil is divided into two portions; do thou make choice of that best suits thee, to recompense thy people who were partakers with us in this adventure." "Good yeoman," said Cedric, "my heart is oppressed with sadness. The noble Athelstane of Conningsburgh is no more-the last sprout of the sainted Confessor! Hopes have perished with him which can never return!-A sparkle hath been quenched by his blood, which no human breath can again rekindle! My people, save the few who are now with me, do but tarry my presence to transport his honoured remains to their last mansion. The Lady Rowena is desirous to return to Rotherwood, and must be escorted thither with a sufficient force. I should, therefore, ere now, have left this place; and I waited-not to share the booty, for, so help me God and Saint Withold! as neither I nor any of mine will touch the value of a liard, I waited but to render my thanks to thee and to thy bold yeomen, for the life and honour ye have saved." "Nay, but," said the chief Outlaw, "we did but half the work at most-take of the spoil what may reward your own neighbours and followers." "I am rich enough to reward them from mine own wealth," answered Cedric. "And some," said Wamba, "have been wise. enough to reward themselves; they do not march off empty handed altogether. We do not all wear motley." "They are welcome," said Locksley; "our laws bind but ourselves.' 99 "But thou, my poor knave," said Cedric, turning about and embracing his Jester," how shall I reward thee, who feared not to give thy body to chains and death instead of mine! All forsook me, when the poor fool was faithful!" A tear ́stood in the eye of the rough Thane as he spoke-a mark of feeling which even the death of Athelstane had not extracted; but there was something in the half instinctive attachment of his clown, that waked his nature more keenly than even grief itself. if "Nay," said the Jester, extricating himself from his master's caress, you pay my service with the water of your eye, the Jester must weep for company, and then what becomes of his vocation?-But, uncle, if you would indeed pleasure me, I pray you to pardon my playfellow Gurth, who stole a week from your service to bestow it on your son." "Pardon him!" exclaimed Cedric; "I will both pardon and reward him.-Kneel down, Gurth."The swine-herd was in an instant at his master's feet. "THEOW and ESNE art thou no longer," said Cedric, touching him with a wand; FOLK-FREE and SACLESS art thou in town and from town, in the forest as in the field. A hyde of land I give to thee in in my steads of Walbrugham, from me and mine to thee and thine aye and for ever; and God's malison on his head who this gainsays!" No longer a serf, but a freeman and a land-holder, Gurth sprung upon his feet, and twice bounded aloft to almost his own height from the ground. "A smith and a file," he cried, "to do away the collar from the neck of a freeman!-Noble master! -doubled is my strength by your gift, and doubly will I fight for you!-There is a free spirit in my breast-I am a man changed to myself and all around. Ha, Fangs!" he continued,-for that faithful cur, seeing his master thus transported, began to jump upon him, to express his sympathy," knowest thou thy master still?" "Ay, said Wamba, "Fangs and I still know thee, Gurth, though we must needs abide by the collar; it is only thou who art likely to forget us both and thyself." 66 "I shall forget myself indeed ere I forget thee, true comrade," said Gurth;" and were freedom fit for thee, Wamba, thy master would not let thee want it." Nay," said Wamba," never think I envy thee, brother Gurth; the serf sits by the hall fire, when the freeman must forth to the field-And what saith Oldhelm of Malmsbury-Better a fool at a feast than a wise man at a fray." The tramp of horses was now heard, and the Lady Rowena appeared, surrounded by several riders, and a much stronger party of footmen, who joy fully shook their pikes and clashed their brown-bills for joy of her freedom. She herself, richly attired, and mounted on a dark chesnut palfrey, had recovered all the dignity of her manner, and only an unwonted degree of paleness showed the sufferings she had undergone. Her lovely brow, though sorrowful, bore on it a cast of reviving hope referring to the future, as well as of grateful thankfulness for the past deliverance-She knew that Ivanhoe was safe, and she knew that Athelstane was dead. The former assurance filled her with the most sincere delight; and if she did not rejoice at the other, she might be pardoned for feeling the full advantage of being freed from further persecution on the only subject in which she had ever been contradicted by her guardian Cedric. As Rowena bent her steed toward Locksley's seat, that bold yeoman, with all his followers, rose to receive her as if by a general instinct of courtesy. The blood rose to her cheeks, as courteously waving her hand, and bending so low that her beautiful and loose tresses were for an instant mixed with the flowing mane of her palfrey, she expressed in few but apt words her obligations and her gratitude to Locksley 1 |