The Prince and the Page | Page 8

stranger, "with hands free?
or must I bind them?"
"Follow?" replied Adam, ruefully looking at the boy with eyes full of
reproach--"ay, follow to any gallows thou wilt--and the nearest tree
were the best! Come on!"
"I have no warrant," returned the grave hunter.
"Tush! what warrant is needed for hanging a well-known outlaw--made
so by the Prince's tender mercies? The Prince will thank thee, man, for
ridding the realm of the robber who fell on the treasurer bearing the
bags from Leicester!"
And meanwhile, with uncouth cunning, Adam was striving to telegraph
by winks and gestures to the boy who had so grievously disappointed

him, that the moment of his own summary execution would be an
excellent one for his companion's escape.
But the eye, so steady yet so quick under its somewhat drooping eyelid,
detected the simple stratagem.
"I trow the Prince might thank me more for bringing in this charge of
thine."
"Small thanks, I trow, for laying hands on a poor orphan--the son of a
Poitevin man-at-arms--that I kept with me for love of his father, though
he is fitter for a convent than the green wood!" added Adam, with the
same sound of keen reproach and disappointment in his voice.
"That shall we learn at Guildford," replied the stranger. "There are
means of teaching a man to speak."
"None that will serve with me," stoutly responded Adam.
"That shall we see," was the brief answer.
And he signed to his prisoners to move on before him, taking care so to
interpose his stately person between them, that there should be no
communication by word, far less by look.

CHAPTER II
--THE LADY OF THE FOREST

"Behold how mercy softeneth still The haughtiest heart that beats: Pride
with disdain may he answered again, But pardon at once defeats!"--S.
M.
The so-called forest was in many parts mere open heath, thickly
adorned by the beautiful purple ling, blending into a rich carpet with
the dwarf furze, and backed by thickets of trees in the hollows of the
ground.
Across this wild country the tall forester conducted his captives in
silence--moving along with a pace that evidently cost him so little
exertion, and was so steady and even, that his companions might have
supposed it slow, had they only watched it, and not been obliged to
keep up with it. Light of foot as the youth was, he was at times reduced
to an almost breathless run; and Adam plodded along, with strides that
worked his arms and shoulders in sympathy.
After about three miles, when the boy was beginning to feel as if he

must soon be in danger of lagging, they came into a dip of the ground
where stood a long, low, irregular building, partly wood and partly
stone, roofed with shingle in some parts, in others with heather. The
last addition, a deep porch, still retained the fresh tints of the bark on
the timber sides, and the purple of the ling that roofed it.
Sheds and out-houses surrounded it; dogs in couples, horses, grooms,
and foresters, were congregated in the background; but around this new
porch were gathered a troop of peasant women, children, and aged men.
The fine bald brow and profile of the old peasant, the eager face of the
curly-haired child, the worn countenance of the hard- tasked mother,
were all uplifted towards the doorway, in which stood, slightly above
them, a lady, with two long plaited flaxen tresses descending on her
shoulders, under a black silken veil, that disclosed a youthful
countenance, full of pure calm loveliness, of a simple but dignified and
devotional expression, that might have befitted an angel of charity. A
priest and a lady were dispensing loaves and warm garments to the
throng around; but each gift was accompanied by a gentle word from
the lady, framed with difficulty to their homely English tongue, but
listened to even by uncomprehending ears like a strain of Church
music.
Adam had expected the forester to turn aside to the group of servants,
but in blank amazement saw him lead the way through the poor at the
gate; and advancing to the porch with a courteous bending of his head,
he said in the soft Provencal--far more familiar than English to Adam's
ears--"Hast room for another suppliant, mi Dona?"
The sweet fair face lighted up with a sudden sunbeam of joy; and a
musical voice replied. "Welcome, my dearest Lord: much did I need
thee to hear the plaints of some of these thy lieges, which my ears can
scarce understand! But why art thou alone? or rather, why thus
strangely accompanied?"
"These are the captives won by my single arm, whom, according to all
laws of chivalry, thine own true knight thus lays at thy feet, fair