The whole of this hurried discourse, conducted in an under-tone, passed

unheard and unnoticed by the bystanders. Just then, an opening took

place amid the crowd, and the squire pushed through it, hoping to get

rid of his companion, but he hoped in vain, for, clinging to his saddle,

she went on along with him.

They were soon under the deep groined and ribbed arch of the gate, and

Nance would have been here turned back by the foremost halberdier, if

Nicholas had not signified somewhat hastily that she belonged to his

party. The man smiled, and offered no further opposition; and the

gigantic porter next advancing, Nicholas exhibited his pass to him,

which appearing sufficiently comprehensive to procure admission for

Richard and Sherborne, they instantly availed themselves of the licence,

while the squire fumbled in his doublet for a further order for Nance.

At last he produced it, and after reading it, the gigantic warder

exclaimed, with a smile illumining his broad features--

"Ah! I see;--this is an order from his worship, Sir Richard, to admit a

certain woman, who is to enact Doll Wango in the masque. This is she, I

suppose?" he added, looking at Nance.

"Ay, ay!" replied the squire.

"A comely wench, by the mass!" exclaimed the porter. "Open the gate."

"No--not yet--not yet, good porter, till my claim be adjusted," cried

another woman, pushing forward, quite as young and comely as Nance, and

equally gaily dressed. "I am the real Doll Wango, though I be generally

known as Dame Tetlow. The squire engaged me to play the part before the

King, and now this saucy hussy has taken my place. But I'll have my

rights, that I will."

"Odd's heart! two Doll Wangos!" exclaimed the porter, opening his eyes.

"Two!--Nay, beleedy! boh there be three!" exclaimed an immensely tall,

stoutly proportioned woman, stepping up, to the increased confusion of

the squire, and the infinite merriment of the bystanders, whose laughter

had been already excited by the previous part of the scene. "Didna yo

tell me at Myerscough to come here, squire, an ey, Bess Baldwyn, should

play Doll Wango to your Jem Tospot?"

"Play the devil! for that's what you all seem bent upon doing,"

exclaimed the squire, impatiently. "Away with you! I can have nothing to

say to you!"

"You gave me the same promise at the Castle at Preston last night," said

Dame Tetlow.

"I had been drinking, and knew not what I said," rejoined Nicholas,

angrily.

"Boh yo promised me a few minutes ago, an yo're sober enough now," cried

Nance.

"Ey dunna knoa that," rejoined Dame Baldwyn, looking reproachfully at

him. "Boh what ey dun knoa is, that nother o' these squemous queans shan

ge in efore me."

And she looked menacingly at them, as if determined to oppose their

ingress, much to the alarm of the timorous Dame Tetlow, though Nance

returned her angry glances unmoved.

"For Heaven's sake, my good fellow, let them all three in!" said

Nicholas, in a low tone to the porter, at the same time slipping a gold

piece into his hand, "or there's no saying what may be the consequence,

for they're three infernal viragos. I'll take the responsibility of

their admittance upon myself with Sir Richard."

"Well, as your worship says, I don't like to see quarrelling amongst

women," returned the porter, in a bland tone, "so all three shall go in;

and as to who is to play Doll Wango, the master of the ceremonies will

settle that, so you need give yourself no more concern about it; but if

I were called on to decide," he added, with an amorous leer at Dame

Baldwyn, whose proportions so well matched his own, "I know where my

choice would light. There, now!" he shouted, "Open wide the gate for

Squire Nicholas Assheton of Downham, and the three Doll Wangos."

And, all obstacles being thus removed, Nicholas passed on with the three

females amidst the renewed laughter of the bystanders. But he got rid of

his plagues as soon as he could; for, dismounting and throwing his

bridle to an attendant, he vouchsafed not a word to any of them, but

stepped quickly after Richard and Sherborne, who had already reached the

great fire with the bull roasting before it.

Appropriated chiefly to stables and other offices, the base court of

Hoghton Tower consisted of buildings of various dates, the greater part

belonging to Elizabeth's time, though some might be assigned to an

earlier period, while many alterations and additions had been recently

made, in anticipation of the king's visit. Dating back as far as Henry

II., the family had originally fixed their residence at the foot of the

hill, on the banks of the Darwen; but in process of time, swayed by

prouder notions, they mounted the craggy heights above, and built a

tower upon their crest. It is melancholy to think that so glorious a

pile, teeming with so many historical recollections, and so

magnificently situated, should be abandoned, and suffered to go to

decay;--the family having, many years ago, quitted it for Walton Hall,

near Walton-le-Dale, and consigned it to the occupation of a few

gamekeepers. Bereft of its venerable timber, its courts grass-grown, its

fine oak staircase rotting and dilapidated, its domestic chapel

neglected, its marble chamber broken and ruinous, its wainscotings and

ceilings cracked and mouldering, its paintings mildewed and half

effaced, Hoghton Tower presents only the wreck of its former grandeur.

Desolate indeed are its halls, and their glory for ever departed!

However, this history has to do with it in the season of its greatest

splendour; when it glistened with silks and velvets, and resounded with

loud laughter and blithe music; when stately nobles and lovely dames

were seen in the gallery, and a royal banquet was served in the great

hall; when its countless chambers were filled to overflowing, and its

passages echoed with hasty feet; when the base court was full of

huntsmen and falconers, and enlivened by the neighing of steeds and the

baying of hounds; when there was daily hunting in the park, and nightly

dancing and diversion in the hall,--it is with Hoghton Tower at this

season that the present tale has to do, and not with it as it is

now--silent, solitary, squalid, saddening, but still whispering of the

glories of the past, still telling of the kingly pageant that once

graced it.

The base court was divided from the court of lodging by the great hall

and domestic chapel. A narrow vaulted passage on either side led to the

upper quadrangle, the facade of which was magnificent, and far superior

in uniformity of design and style to the rest of the structure, the

irregularity of which, however, was not unpleasing. The whole frontage

of the upper court was richly moulded and filleted, with ranges of

mullion and transom windows, capitals, and carved parapets crowned with

stone balls. Marble pillars, in the Italian style, had been recently

placed near the porch, with two rows of pilasters above them, supporting

a heavy marble cornice, on which rested the carved escutcheon of the

family. A flight of stone steps led up to the porch, and within was a

wide oak staircase, so gentle of ascent that a man on horseback could

easily mount it--a feat often practised in later days by one of the

descendants of the house. In this part of the mansion all the principal

apartments were situated, and here James was lodged. Here also was the

green room, so called from its hangings, which he used for private

conferences, and which was hung round with portraits of his unfortunate

mother, Mary, Queen of Scots; of her implacable enemy, Queen Elizabeth;

of his consort, Anne of Bohemia: and of Sir Thomas Hoghton, the founder

of the tower. Adjoining it was the Star-Chamber, occupied by the Duke of

Buckingham, with its napkin panelling, and ceiling "fretted with golden

fires;" and in the same angle were rooms occupied by the Duke of

Richmond, the Earls of Pembroke and Nottingham, and Lord Howard of

Effingham. Below was the library, whither Doctor Thomas Moreton, Bishop

of Chester, and his Majesty's chaplain, with the three puisné judges of

the King's Bench, Sir John Doddridge, Sir John Crooke, and Sir Robert

Hoghton, all of whom were guests of Sir Richard, resorted; and in the

adjoining wing was the great gallery, where the whole of the nobles and

courtiers passed such of their time--and that was not much--as was not

occupied in feasting or out-of-doors' amusements.

Long corridors ran round the upper stories in this part of the mansion,

and communicated with an endless series of rooms, which, numerous as

they were, were all occupied, and, accommodation being found impossible

for the whole of the guests, many were sent to the new erections in the

base court, which had been planned to meet the emergency by the

magnificent and provident host. The nobles and gentlemen were, however,

far outnumbered by their servants, and the confusion occasioned by the

running to and fro of the various grooms of the chambers, was

indescribable. Doublets had to be brushed, ruffs plaited, hair curled,

beards trimmed, and all with the greatest possible expedition; so that,

as soon as day dawned upon Hoghton Tower, there was a prodigious racket

from one end of it to the other. Many favoured servants slept in

truckle-beds in their masters' rooms; but others, not so fortunate, and

unable to find accommodation even in the garrets--for the smallest

rooms, and those nearest the roof, were put in requisition--slept upon

the benches in the hall, while several sat up all night carousing in the

great kitchen, keeping company with the cooks and their assistants, who

were busied all the time in preparations for the feasting of the morrow.

Such was the state of things inside Hoghton Tower early on the eventful

morning in question, and out of doors, especially in the base court

which Nicholas was traversing, the noise, bustle, and confusion were

equally great. Wide as was the area, it was filled with various

personages, some newly arrived, and seeking information as to their

quarters--not very easily obtained, for it seemed every body's business

to ask questions, and no one's to answer them--some gathered in groups

round the falconers and huntsmen, who had suddenly risen into great

importance; others, and these were for the most part smart young pages,

in brilliant liveries, chattering, and making love to every pretty

damsel they encountered, putting them out of countenance by their

licence and strange oaths, and rousing the anger of their parents, and

the jealousy of their rustic admirers; others, of a graver sort, with

dress of formal cut, and puritanical expression of countenance,

shrugging their shoulders, and looking sourly on the whole

proceedings--luckily they were in the minority, for the generality of

the groups were composed of lively and light-hearted people, bent

apparently upon amusement, and tolerably certain of finding it. Through

these various groups numerous lackeys were passing swiftly and

continuously to and fro, bearing a cap, a mantle, or a sword, and

pushing aside all who interfered with their progress, with a "by your

leave, my masters--your pardon, fair mistress"--or, "out of my way,

knave!" and, as the stables occupied one entire angle of the court,

there were grooms without end dressing the horses at the doors, watering

them at the troughs, or leading them about amid the admiring or

criticising bystanders. The King's horses were, of course, objects of

special attraction, and such as could obtain a glimpse of them and of

the royal coach thought themselves especially favoured. Besides what was

going forward below, the windows looking into the court were all full of

curious observers, and much loud conversation took place between those

placed at them and their friends underneath. From all this some idea

will be formed of the tremendous din that prevailed; but though with

much confusion there was no positive disorder, still less brawling, for

yeomen of the guard being stationed at various points, perfect order was

maintained. Several minstrels, mummers, and merry-makers, in various

fantastic habits, swelled the throng, enlivening it with their strains

or feats; and amongst other privileged characters admitted was a Tom o'

Bedlam, a half-crazed licensed beggar, in a singular and picturesque

garb, with a plate of tin engraved with his name attached to his left

arm, and a great ox's horn, which he was continually blowing, suspended

by a leathern baldric from his neck.

Scarcely had Nicholas joined his companions, than word was given that

the king was about to attend morning prayers in the domestic chapel.

Upon this, an immediate rush was made in that direction by the crowd;

but the greater part were kept back by the guard, who crossed their

halberts to prevent their ingress, and a few only were allowed to enter

the antechamber leading to the chapel, amongst whom were the squire and

his companions.

Here they were detained within it till service was over, and, as prayers

were read by the Bishop of Chester, and the whole Court was present,

this was a great disappointment to them. At the end of half an hour two

very courtly personages came forth, each bearing a white wand, and,

announcing that the King was coming forth, the assemblage immediately

divided into two lines to allow a passage for the monarch. Nicholas

Assheton informed Richard in a whisper that the foremost and stateliest

of the two gentlemen was Lord Stanhope of Harrington, the

vice-chamberlain, and the other, a handsome young man of slight figure

and somewhat libertine expression of countenance, was the renowned Sir

John Finett, master of the ceremonies. Notwithstanding his

licentiousness, however, which was the vice of the age and the stain of

the court, Sir John was a man of wit and address, and perfectly

conversant with the duties of his office, of which he has left

satisfactory evidence in an amusing tractate, "Finetti Philoxenis."

Some little time elapsed before the King made his appearance, during

which the curiosity of such as had not seen him, as was the case with

Richard, was greatly excited. The young man wondered whether the

pedantic monarch, whose character perplexed the shrewdest, would answer

his preconceived notions, and whether it would turn out that his

portraits were like him. While these thoughts were passing through his

mind, a shuffling noise was heard without, and King James appeared at

the doorway. He paused there for a moment to place his plumed and

jewelled cap upon his head, and to speak a word with Sir John Finett,

and during this Richard had an opportunity of observing him. The

portraits _were_ like, but the artists had flattered him, though not

much. There was great shrewdness of look, but there was also a vacant

expression, which seemed to contradict the idea of profound wisdom

generally ascribed to him. When in perfect repose, which they were not

for more than a minute, the features were thoughtful, benevolent, and

pleasing, and Richard began to think him quite handsome, when another

change was wrought by some remark of Sir John Finett. As the Master of

the Ceremonies told his tale, the King's fine dark eyes blazed with an

unpleasant light, and he laughed so loudly and indecorously at the close

of the narrative, with his great tongue hanging out of his mouth, and

tears running down his cheeks, that the young man was quite sickened.

The King's face was thin and long, the cheeks shaven, but the lips

clothed with mustaches, and a scanty beard covered his chin. The hair

was brushed away from the face, and the cap placed at the back of the

head, so as to exhibit a high bald forehead, of which he was

prodigiously vain. James was fully equipped for the chase, and wore a

green silk doublet, quilted, as all his garments were, so as to be

dagger-proof, enormous trunk-hose, likewise thickly stuffed, and buff

boots, fitting closely to the leg, and turned slightly over at the knee,

with the edges fringed with gold. This was almost the only appearance of

finery about the dress, except a row of gold buttons down the jerkin.

Attached to his girdle he wore a large pouch, with the mouth drawn

together by silken cords, and a small silver bugle was suspended from

his neck by a baldric of green silk. Stiffly-starched bands, edged with

lace, and slightly turned down on either side of the face, completed his

attire. There was nothing majestic, but the very reverse, in the King's

deportment, and he seemed only kept upright by the exceeding stiffness

of his cumbersome clothes. With the appearance of being corpulent, he

was not so in reality, and his weak legs and bent knees were scarcely

able to support his frame. He always used a stick, and generally sought

the additional aid of a favourite's arm.

In this instance the person selected was Sir Gilbert Hoghton, the eldest

son of Sir Richard, and subsequent owner of Hoghton Tower. Indebted for

the high court favour he enjoyed partly to his graceful person and

accomplishments, and partly to his marriage, having espoused a daughter

of Sir John Aston of Cranford, who, as sister of the Duchess of

Buckingham, and a descendant of the blood royal of the Stuarts, was a

great help to his rapid rise, the handsome young knight was skilled in

all manly exercises, and cited as a model of grace in the dance.

Constant in attendance upon the court, he frequently took part in the

masques performed before it. Like the King, he was fully equipped for

hunting; but greater contrast could not have been found than between his

tall fine form and the King's ungainly figure. Sir Gilbert had remained

behind with the rest of the courtiers in the chapel; but, calling him,

James seized his arm, and set forward at his usual shambling pace. As he

went on, nodding his head in return to the profound salutations of the

assemblage, his eye rolled round them until it alighted on Richard

Assheton, and, nudging Sir Gilbert, he asked--

"Wha's that?--a bonnie lad, but waesome pale."

Sir Gilbert, however, was unable to answer the inquiry; but Nicholas,

who stood beside the young man, was determined not to lose the

opportunity of introducing him, and accordingly moved a step forward,

and made a profound obeisance.

"This youth, may it please your Majesty," he said, "is my cousin,

Richard Assheton, son and heir of Sir Richard Assheton of Middleton, one

of your Majesty's most loyal and devoted servants, and who, I trust,

will have the honour of being presented to you in the course of the

day."

"We trust so, too, Maister Nicholas Assheton--for that, if we dinna

forget, is your ain name," replied James; "and if the sire resembles the

son, whilk is not always the case, as our gude freend, Sir Gilbert, is

evidence, being as unlike his worthy father as a man weel can be; if, as

we say, Sir Richard resembles this callant, he must be a weel-faur'd

gentleman. But, God's santie, lad! how cam you in sic sad and sombre

abulyiements? Hae ye nae braw claes to put on to grace our coming? Black

isna the fashion at our court, as Sir Gilbert will tell ye, and, though

a suit o' sables may become you, it's no pleasing in our sight. Let us

see you in gayer apparel at dinner."

Richard, who was considerably embarrassed by the royal address, merely

bowed, and Nicholas again took upon himself to answer for him.

"Your Majesty will be pleased to pardon him," he said; "but he is

unaccustomed to court fashions, having passed all his time in a wild and

uncivilized district, where, except on rare and happy occasions like the

present, the refined graces of life seldom reach us."

"Weel, we wouldna be hard upon him," said the King, good-naturedly; "and

mayhap the family has sustained some recent loss, and he is in

mourning."

"I cannot offer that excuse for him, sire," replied Nicholas, who began

to flatter himself he was making considerable progress in the monarch's

good graces. "It is simply an affair of the heart."

"Puir chiel! we pity him," cried the King. "And sae it is a hopeless

suit, young sir?" he added to Richard. "Canna we throw in a good word

for ye? Do we ken the lassie, and is she to be here to-day?"

"I am quite at a loss how to answer your Majesty's questions," replied

Richard, "and my cousin Nicholas has very unfairly betrayed my secret."

"Hoot, toot! na, lad," exclaimed James; "it wasna he wha betrayed your

secret, but our ain discernment that revealed it to us. We kenned your

ailment at a glance. Few things are hidden from the King's eye, and we

could tell ye mair aboot yoursel', and the lassie you're deeing for, if

we cared to speak it; but just now we have other fish to fry, and must

awa' and break our fast, of the which, if truth maun be spoken, we stand

greatly in need; for creature comforts maun be aye looked to as weel as

spiritual wants, though the latter should be ever cared for first, as

is our ain rule; and in so doing we offer an example to our subjects,

which they will do weel to follow. Later in the day, we will talk

further to you on the subject; but, meanwhile, gie us the name of your

lassie loo."

"Oh! spare me, your Majesty," cried Richard.

"Her name is Alizon Nutter," interposed Nicholas.

"What! a daughter of Alice Nutter of Rough Lee?" exclaimed James.

"The same, sire," replied Nicholas, much surprised at the extent of

information manifested by the King.

"Why, saul o' my body! man, she's a witch--a witch! d'ye ken that?"

cried the King, with a look of abhorrence; "a mischievous and malignant

vermin, with which this pairt of our realm is sair plagued, but which,

with God's help, we will thoroughly extirpate. Sae the lass is a

daughter of Alice Nutter, ha! That accounts for your grewsome looks,

lad. Odd's life! I see it all now. I understand what is the matter with

you. Look at him, Sir Gilbert--look at him, I say! Does naething strike

you as strange about him?"

"Nothing more than that he is naturally embarrassed by your Majesty's

mode of speech," replied the knight.

"You lack the penetration of the King, Sir Gilbert," cried James. "I

will tell you what ails him. He is bewitchit--forespoken."

Exclamations were uttered by all the bystanders, and every eye was fixed

on Richard, who felt ready to sink to the ground.

"I affirm he is bewitchit," continued the King; "and wha sae likely to

do it as the glamouring hizzie that has ensnared him? She has ill bluid

in her veins, and can chant deevil's cantrips as weel as the mither, or

ony gyre-carline o' them a'."

"You are mistaken, sire," cried Richard, earnestly. "Alizon will be here

to-day with my father and sister, and, if you deign to receive her, I am

sure you will judge her differently."

"We shall perpend the point of receiving her," replied the King,

gravely. "But we are rarely mista'en, young man, and seldom change our

opinion except upon gude grounds, and those you arena like to offer us.

Belike ye hae been lang ill?"

"Oh! no, your Majesty, I was suddenly seized, about a month ago,"

replied Richard.

"Suddenly seized--eh!" exclaimed James, winking cunningly at those near

him; "and ye swarfit awa' wi' the pain? I guessed it. And whaur was

Alizon the while?"

"At that time she was a guest at Middleton," replied Richard; "but it is

impossible my illness can in any way be attributed to her. I will answer

with my life for her perfect innocence."

"You may have to answer wi' your life for your misplaced faith in her,"

said the King; "but I tell you naething--naething wicked, at all

events--is impossible to witches, and the haill case, even by your own

showin', is very suspicious. I have heard somewhat of the story of Alice

Nutter, but not the haill truth--but there are folk here wha can

enlighten us mair fully. Thus much I do ken--that she is a notorious

witch, and a fugitive from justice; though siblins you, Maister Nicholas

Assheton, could give an inkling of her hiding-place if you were so

disposed. Nay, never look doited, man," he added, laughing, "I bring nae

charges against you. Ye arena on your trial noo. But this is a serious

matter, and maun be seriously considered before we dismiss it. You say

Alizon will be here to-day. Sae far weel. Canna you contrive to produce

the mother, too, Maister Nicholas?"

"Sire!" exclaimed Nicholas.

"Nay, then, we maun gang our ain way to wark," continued James. "We are

tauld ye hae a petition to offer us, and our will and pleasure is that

you present it afore we go forth to the chase, and after we have

partaken of our matutinal refection, whilk we will nae langer delay;

for, sooth to say, we are weel nigh famished. Look ye, sirs. Neither of

you is to quit Hoghton Tower without our permission had and obtained. We

do not place you under arrest, neither do we inhibit you from the chase,

or from any other sports; but you are to remain here at our sovereign

pleasure. Have we your word that you will not attempt to disobey the

injunction?"

"You have mine, undoubtedly, sire," replied Richard.

"And mine, too," added Nicholas. "And I hope to justify myself before

your Majesty."

"We shall be weel pleased to hear ye do it, man," rejoined the King,

laughing, and shuffling on. "But we hae our doubts--we hae our doubts!"

"His Majesty talks of going to breakfast, and says he is famished,"

observed Nicholas to Sherborne, as the King departed; "but he has

completely taken away my appetite."

"No wonder," replied the other.

CHAPTER VII.--THE ROYAL DECLARATION CONCERNING LAWFUL SPORTS ON THE

SUNDAY.

Not many paces after the King marched the Duke of Buckingham, then in

the zenith of his power, and in the full perfection of his unequalled

beauty, eclipsing all the rest of the nobles in splendour of apparel, as

he did in stateliness of deportment. Haughtily returning the salutations

made him, which were scarcely less reverential than those addressed to

the monarch himself, the prime favourite moved on, all eyes following

his majestic figure to the door. Buckingham walked alone, as if he had

been a prince of the blood; but after him came a throng of nobles,

consisting of the Earl of Pembroke, high chamberlain; the Duke of

Richmond, master of the household; the Earl of Nottingham, lord high

admiral; Viscount Brackley, Lord Howard of Effingham, Lord Zouche,

president of Wales; with the Lords Knollys, Mordaunt, Conipton, and Grey

of Groby. One or two of the noblemen seemed inclined to question Richard

as to what had passed between him and the King; but the young man's

reserved and somewhat stern manner deterred them. Next came the three

judges, Doddridge, Crooke, and Hoghton, whose countenances wore an

enforced gravity; for if any faith could be placed in rubicund cheeks

and portly persons, they were not indisposed to self-indulgence and

conviviality. After the judges came the Bishop of Chester, the King's

chaplain, who had officiated on the present occasion, and who was in his

full pontifical robes. He was accompanied by the lord of the mansion,

Sir Richard Hoghton, a hale handsome man between fifty and sixty, with

silvery hair and beard, a robust but commanding person, a fresh

complexion, and features, by no means warranting, from any marked

dissimilarity to those of his son, the King's scandalous jest.

A crowd of baronets and knights succeeded, including Sir Arthur Capel,

Sir Thomas Brudenell, Sir Edward Montague, Sir Edmund Trafford, sheriff

of the county, Sir Edward Mosley, and Sir Ralph Assheton. The latter

looked grave and anxious, and, as he passed his relatives, said in a low

tone to Richard--

"I am told Alizon is to be here to-day. Is it so?"

"She is," replied the young man; "but why do you ask? Is she in danger?

If so, let her be warned against coming."

"On no account," replied Sir Ralph; "that would only increase the

suspicion already attaching to her. No; she must face the danger, and I

hope will be able to avert it."

"But what _is_ the danger?" asked Richard. "In Heaven's name, speak more

plainly."

"I cannot do so now," replied Sir Ralph. "We will take counsel together

anon. Her enemies are at work; and, if you tarry here a few minutes

longer, you will understand whom I mean."

And he passed on.

A large crowd now poured indiscriminately out of the chapel and amongst

it Nicholas perceived many of his friends and neighbours, Mr. Townley of

Townley Park, Mr. Parker of Browsholme, Mr. Shuttleworth of Gawthorpe,

Sir Thomas Metcalfe, and Roger Nowell. With the latter was Master Potts,

and Richard was then at no loss to understand against whom Sir Ralph had

warned him. A fierce light blazed in Roger Nowell's keen eyes as he

first remarked the two Asshetons, and a smile of gratified vengeance

played about his lips; but he quelled the fire in a moment, and,

compressing his hard mouth more closely, bowed coldly and ceremoniously

to them. Metcalfe did the same. Not so Master Potts. Halting for a

moment, he said, with a spiteful look, "Look to yourself, Master

Nicholas; and you too, Master Richard. A day of reckoning is coming for

both of you."

And with this he sprang nimbly after his client.

"What means the fellow?" cried Nicholas. "But that we are here, as it

were, in the precincts of a palace, I would after him and cudgel him

soundly for his insolence."

"And wha's that ye'd be after dinging, man?" cried a sharp voice behind

him. "No that puir feckless body that has jist skippit aff. If sae,

ye'll tak the wrang soo by the lugg, and I counsel you to let him bide,

for he's high i' favour wi' the King."

Turning at this address, Nicholas recognised the king's jester, Archie

Armstrong, a merry little knave, with light blue eyes, long yellow hair

hanging about his ears, and a sandy beard. There was a great deal of

mother wit about Archie, and quite as much shrewdness as folly. He wore

no distinctive dress as jester--the bauble and coxcomb having been long

discontinued--but was simply clad in the royal livery.

"And so Master Potts is in favour with his Majesty, eh, Archie?" asked

the squire, hoping to obtain some information from him.

"And sae war you the day efore yesterday, when you hunted at

Myerscough," replied the jester.

"But how have I forfeited the King's good opinion?" asked Nicholas.

"Come, you are a good fellow, Archie, and will tell me."

"Dinna think to fleech me, man," replied the jester, cunningly.--"I ken

what I ken, and that's mair than you'll get frae me wi' a' your

speering. The King's secrets are safe wi' Archie--and for a good reason,

that he is never tauld them. You're a gude huntsman, and sae is his

Majesty; but there's ae kind o' game he likes better than anither, and

that's to be found maistly i' these pairts--I mean witches, and sic like

fearfu' carlines. We maun hae the country rid o' them, and that's what

his Majesty intends, and if you're a wise man you'll lend him a helping

hand. But I maun in to disjune."

And with this the jester capered off, leaving Nicholas like one

stupefied. He was roused, however, by a smart slap on the shoulder from

Sir John Finett.

"What! pondering over the masque, Master Nicholas, or thinking of the

petition you have to present to his Majesty?" cried the master of the

ceremonies, "Let neither trouble you. The one will be well played, I

doubt not, and the other well received, I am sure, for I know the king's

sentiments on the subject. But touching the dame, Master Nicholas--have

you found one willing and able to take part in the masque?"

"I have found several willing, Sir John," replied Nicholas; "but as to

their ability that is another question. However, one of them may do as a

make-shift. They are all in the base court, and shall wait on you when

you please, and then you can make your election."

"So far well," replied Finett; "it may be that we shall have Ben Jonson

here to-day--rare Ben, the prince of poets and masque-writers. Sir

Richard Hoghton expects him. Ben is preparing a masque for Christmas, to

be called 'The Vision of Delight,' in which his highness the prince is

to be a principal actor, and some verses which have been recited to me

are amongst the daintiest ever indited by the bard."

"It will be a singular pleasure to me to see him," said Nicholas; "for I

hold Ben Jonson in the highest esteem as a poet--ay, above them all,

unless it be Will Shakspeare."

"Ay, you do well to except Shakspeare," rejoined Sir John Finett. "Great

as Ben Jonson is, and for wit and learning no man surpasses him, he is

not to be compared with Shakspeare, who for profound knowledge of

nature, and of all the highest qualities of dramatic art, is

unapproachable. But ours is a learned court, Master Nicholas, and

therefore we have a learned poet; but a right good fellow is Ben Jonson,

and a boon companion, though somewhat prone to sarcasm, as you will find

if you drink with him. Over his cups he will rail at courts and

courtiers in good set terms, I promise you, and I myself have come in

for his gibes. However, I love him none the less for his quips, for I

know it is his humour to utter them, and so overlook what in another and

less deserving person I should assuredly resent. But is not that young

man, who is now going forth, your cousin, Richard Assheton? I thought

so. The King has had a strange tale whispered in his ear, that the youth

has been bewitched by a maiden--Alizon Nutter, I think she is named--of

whom he is enamoured. I know not what truth may be in the charge, but

the youth himself seems to warrant it, for he looks ghastly ill. A

letter was sent to his Majesty at Myerscough, communicating this and

certain other particulars with which I am not acquainted; but I know

they relate to some professors of the black art in your country, the

soil of which seems favourable to the growth of such noxious weeds, and

at first he was much disturbed by it, but in the end decided that both

parties should be brought hither without being made aware of his design,

that he might see and judge for himself in the matter. Accordingly a

messenger was sent over to Middleton Hall as from Sir Richard Hoghton,

inviting the whole family to the Tower, and giving Sir Richard Assheton

to understand it was the King's pleasure he should bring with him a

certain young damsel, named Alizon Nutter, of whom mention had been made

to him. Sir Richard had no choice but to obey, and promised compliance

with his Majesty's injunctions. An officer, however, was left on the

watch, and this very morning reported to his Majesty that young Richard

Assheton had already set out with the intention of going to Preston, but

had passed the night at Walton-le-Dale, and that Sir Richard, his

daughter Dorothy, and Alizon Nutter, would be here before noon."

"His Majesty has laid his plans carefully," replied Nicholas, "and I can

easily conjecture from whom he received the information, which is as

false as it is malicious. But are you aware, Sir John, upon what

evidence the charge is supported--for mere suspicion is not enough?"

"In cases of witchcraft suspicion _is_ enough," replied the knight,

gravely. "Slender proofs are required. The girl is the daughter of a

notorious witch--that is against her. The young man is ailing--that is

against her, too. But a witness, I believe, will be produced, though who

I cannot say."

"Gracious Heaven! what wickedness there must be in the world when such a

charge can be brought against one so good and so unoffending," cried

Nicholas. "A maiden more devout than Alizon never existed, nor one

holding the crime she is charged with in greater abhorrence. She injure

Richard! she would lay down her life for him--and would have been his

wife, but for scruples the most delicate and disinterested on her part.

But we will establish her innocence before his Majesty, and confound her

enemies."

"It is with that hope that I have given you this information, sir, of

which I am sure you will make no improper use," replied Sir John. "I

have heard a similar character to that you have given of Alizon, and am

unwilling she should fall a victim to art or malice. Be upon your guard,

too, Master Nicholas; for other investigations will take place at the

same time, and some matters may come forth in which you are concerned.

The King's arms are long, and reach and strike far--and his eyes see

clearly when not hoodwinked--or when other people see for him. And now,

good sir, you must want breakfast. Here Faryngton," he added to an

attendant, "show Master Nicholas Assheton to his lodging in the base

court, and attend upon him as if he were your master. I will come for

you, sir, when it is time to present the petition to the King."

So saying, he bowed and walked forth, turning into the upper quadrangle,

while Nicholas followed Faryngton into the lower court, where he found

his friends waiting for him.

Speedily ascertaining where their lodgings were situated, Faryngton led

them to a building on the left, almost opposite to the great bonfire,

and, ascending a flight of steps, ushered them into a commodious and

well-furnished room, looking into the court. This done, he disappeared,

but soon afterwards returned with two yeomen of the kitchen, one

carrying a tray of provisions upon his head, and the other sustaining a

basket of wine under his arm, and a snowy napkin being laid upon the

table, trenchers viands, and flasks were soon arranged in very tempting

order--so tempting, indeed, that the squire, notwithstanding his

assertion, that his appetite had been taken away, fell to work with his

customary vigour, and plied a flask of excellent Bordeaux so

incessantly, that another had to be placed before him. Sherborne did

equal justice to the good cheer, and Richard not only forced himself to

eat, but to the squire's great surprise swallowed more than one deep

draught of wine. Having thus administered to the wants of the guests,

and seeing his presence was no longer either necessary or desired,

Faryngton vanished, first promising to go and see that all was got ready

for them in the sleeping apartments. Notwithstanding the man's civility,

there was an over-officiousness about him that made Nicholas suspect he

was placed over them by Sir John Finett to watch their movements, and he

resolved to be upon his guard.

"I am glad to see you drink, lad," he observed to Richard, as soon as

they were alone; "a cup of wine will do you good."

"Do you think so?" replied Richard, filling his goblet anew. "I want to

get back my spirits and strength--to sustain myself no matter how--to

look well--ha! ha! If I can only make this frail machine carry me

stoutly through the King's visit, I care not how soon it falls to pieces

afterwards."

"I see your motive, Dick," replied Nicholas. "You hope to turn away

suspicion from Alizon by this device; but you must not go to excess, or

you will defeat your scheme."

"I will do something to convince the King he is mistaken in me--that I

am not bewitched," cried Richard, rising and striding across the room.

"Bewitched! and by Alizon, too! I could laugh at the charge, but that it

is too horrible. Had any other than the King breathed it, I would have

slain him."

"His Majesty has been abused by the malice of that knavish attorney,

Potts, who has always manifested the greatest hostility towards Alizon,"

said Nicholas; "but he will not prevail, for she has only to show

herself to dispel all prejudice."

"You are right, Nicholas," cried Richard; "and yet the King seems

already to have prejudged her, and his obstinacy may lead to her

destruction."

"Speak not so loudly, Dick, in Heaven's name!" said the squire, in

alarm; "these walls may have ears, and echoes may repeat every word you

utter."

"Then let them tell the King that Alizon is innocent," cried Richard,

stopping, and replenishing his goblet, "Here's to her health, and

confusion to her enemies!"

"I'll drink that toast with pleasure, Dick," replied the squire; "but I

must forbid you more wine. You are not used to it, and the fumes will

mount to your brain."

"Come and sit down beside us, that we may talk," said Sherborne.

Richard obeyed, and, leaning over the table, asked in a low deep tone,

"Where is Mistress Nutter, Nicholas?"

The squire looked towards the door before he answered, and then said--

"I will tell you. After the destruction of Malkin Tower and the band of

robbers, she was taken to a solitary hut near Barley Booth, at the foot

of Pendle Hill, and the next day was conveyed across Bowland Forest to

Poulton in the Fyld, on the borders of Morecambe Bay, with the intention

of getting her on board some vessel bound for the Isle of Man.

Arrangements were made for this purpose; but when the time came, she

refused to go, and was brought secretly back to the hut near Barley,

where she has been ever since, though her place of concealment was

hidden even from you and her daughter."

"The captain of the robbers, Fogg or Demdike, escaped--did he not?" said

Richard.

"Ay, in the confusion occasioned by the blowing up of the Tower he

managed to get away," replied Nicholas, "and we were unable to follow

him, as our attentions had to be bestowed upon Mistress Nutter. This was

the more unlucky, as through his instrumentality Jem and his mother

Elizabeth were liberated from the dungeon in which they were placed in

Whalley Abbey, prior to their removal to Lancaster Castle, and none of

them have been heard of since."

"And I hope will never be heard of again," cried Richard. "But is

Mistress Nutter's retreat secure, think you?--May it not be discovered

by some of Nowell's emissaries?"

"I trust not," replied Nicholas; "but her voluntary surrender is more to

be apprehended, for when I last saw her, on the night before starting

for Myerscough, she told me she was determined to give herself up for

trial; and her motives could scarce be combated, for she declares that,

unless she submits herself to the justice of man, and expiates her

offences, she cannot be saved. She now seems as resolute in good as she

was heretofore resolute in evil."

"If she perishes thus, her self-sacrifice, for thus it becomes, will be

Alizon's death-blow," cried Richard.

"So I told her," replied Nicholas--"but she continued inflexible. 'I am

born to be the cause of misery to others, and most to those I love

most,' she said; 'but I cannot fly from justice. There is no escape for

me.'"

"She is right," cried Richard; "there is no escape but the grave,

whither we are all three hurrying. A terrible fatality attaches to us."

"Nay, say not so, Dick," rejoined Nicholas; "you are young, and, though

this shock may be severe, yet when it is passed, you will be

recompensed, I hope, by many years of happiness."

"I am not to be deceived," said Richard. "Look me in the face, and say

honestly if you think me long-lived. You cannot do it. I have been

smitten by a mortal illness, and am wasting gradually away. I am

dying--I feel it--know it; but though it may abridge my brief term of

life, I will purchase present health and spirits at any cost, and save

Alizon. Ah!" he exclaimed, putting his hand to his heart, with a fearful

expression of anguish. "What is the matter?" cried the two gentlemen,

greatly alarmed, and springing towards him.

But the young man could not reply. Another and another agonising spasm

shook his frame, and cold damps broke out upon his pallid brow, showing

the intensity of his suffering. Nicholas and Sherborne regarded each

other anxiously, as if doubtful how to act.

"Shall I summon assistance?" said the latter in a low tone. But, softly

as the words were uttered, they reached the ears of Richard. Rousing

himself by a great effort, he said--

"On no account--the fit is over. I am glad it has seized me now, for I

shall not be liable to a recurrence of it throughout the day. Lead me to

the window. The air will presently revive me."

His friends complied with the request, and placed him at the open

casement.

Great bustle was observable below, and the cause was soon manifest, as

the chief huntsman, clad in green, with buff boots drawn high up on the

thigh, a horn about his neck, and mounted on a strong black curtal, rode

forth from the stables. He was attended by a noble bloodhound, and on

gaining the middle of the court, put his bugle to his lips, and blew a

loud blithe call that made the walls ring again. The summons was

immediately answered by a number of grooms and pages, leading a

multitude of richly-caparisoned horses towards the upper end of the

court, where a gallant troop of dames, nobles, and gentlemen, all

attired for the chase, awaited them; and where, amidst much mirth, and

bandying of lively jest and compliment, a general mounting took place,

the ladies, of course, being placed first on their steeds. While this

was going forward, the hounds were brought from the kennel in

couples--relays having been sent down into the park more than an hour

before--and the yard resounded with their joyous baying, and the

neighing of the impatient steeds. By this time, also, the chief huntsman

had collected his forces, consisting of a dozen prickers, six habited

like himself in green, and six in russet, and all mounted on stout

curtals. Those in green were intended to hunt the hart, and those in

russet the wild-boar, the former being provided with hunting-poles, and

the latter with spears. Their girdles were well lined with beef and

pudding, and each of them, acting upon the advice of worthy Master

George Turbervile, had a stone bottle of good wine at the pummel of his

saddle. Besides these, there were a whole host of varlets of the chase

on foot. The chief falconer, with a long-winged hawk in her hood and

jesses upon his wrist, was stationed somewhat near the gateway, and

close to him were his attendants, each having on his fist a falcon

gentle, a Barbary falcon, a merlin, a goshawk, or a sparrowhawk. Thus

all was in readiness, and hound, hawk, and man seemed equally impatient

for the sport.

At this juncture, the door was thrown open by Faryngton, who announced

Sir John Finett.

"It is time, Master Nicholas Assheton," said the master of the

ceremonies.

"I am ready to attend you, Sir John," replied Nicholas, taking a

parchment from his doublet, and unfolding it, "the petition is well

signed."

"So I see, sir," replied the knight, glancing at it. "Will not your

friends come with you?"

"Most assuredly," replied Richard, who had risen on the knight's

appearance. And he followed the others down the staircase.

By direction of the master of the ceremonies, nearly a hundred of the

more important gentlemen of the county had been got together, and this

train was subsequently swelled to thrice the amount, from the accessions

it received from persons of inferior rank when its object became known.

At the head of this large assemblage Nicholas was now placed, and,

accompanied by Sir John Finett, who gave the word to the procession to

follow them, he moved slowly up the court. Passing through the brilliant

crowd of equestrians, the procession halted at a short distance from the

doorway of the great hall, and James, who had been waiting for its

approach within, now came forth, amid the cheers and plaudits of the

spectators.

Sir John Finett then led Nicholas forward, and the latter, dropping on

one knee, said--

"May it please your Majesty, I hold in my hand a petition, signed as, if

you will deign to cast your eyes over it, you will perceive, by many

hundreds of the lower orders of your loving subjects in this your county

of Lancaster, representing that they are debarred from lawful

recreations upon Sunday after afternoon service, and upon holidays, and

praying that the restrictions imposed in 1579, by the Earls of Derby and

Huntingdon, and by William, Bishop of Chester, commissioners to her late

Highness, Elizabeth, of glorious memory, your Majesty's predecessor, may

be withdrawn."

And with this he placed in the King's hands the petition, which Was very

graciously received.

"The complaint of our loving subjects in Lancashire shall not pass

unnoticed, sir," said James. "Sorry are we to say it, but this county

of ours is sair infested wi' folk inclining to Puritanism and Papistry,

baith of which sects are adverse to the cause of true religion. Honest

mirth is not only tolerable but praiseworthy, and the prohibition of it

is likely to breed discontent, and this our enemies ken fu' weel; for

when," he continued, loudly and emphatically--"when shall the common

people have leave to exercise if not upon Sundays and holidays, seeing

they must labour and win their living on all other days?"

"Your Majesty speaks like King Solomon himself," observed Nicholas, amid

the loud cheering.

"Our will and pleasure then is," pursued James, "that our good people be

not deprived of any lawful recreation that shall not tend to a breach of

the laws, or a violation of the Kirk; but that, after the end of divine

service, they shall not be disturbed, letted, or discouraged from, any

lawful recreation--as dancing and sic like, either of men or women,

archery, leaping, vaulting, or ony ither harmless recreation; nor frae

the having of May-games, Whitsun ales, or morris dancing; nor frae

setting up of May-poles, and ither sports, therewith used, provided the

same be had in due and convenient time, without impediment or neglect of

divine service. And our will further is, that women shall have leave to

carry rushes to the church, for the decoring of it, according to auld

custom. But we prohibit all unlawful games on Sundays, as bear-baiting

and bull-baiting, interludes, and, by the common folk--mark ye that,

sir--playing at bowls."[3]

The royal declaration was received with loud and reiterated cheers,

amidst which James mounted his steed, a large black docile-looking

charger, and rode out of the court, followed by the whole cavalcade.

Trumpets were sounded from the battlements as he passed through the

gateway, and shouting crowds attended him all the way down the hill,

until he entered the avenue leading to the park.

At the conclusion of the royal address, the procession headed by

Nicholas immediately dispersed, and such as meant to join the chase set

off in quest of steeds. Foremost amongst these was the squire himself,

and on approaching the stables, he was glad to find Richard and

Sherborne already mounted, the former holding his horse by the bridle,

so that he had nothing to do but vault upon his back. There was an

impatience about Richard, very different from his ordinary manner, that

surprised and startled him, and the expression of the young man's

countenance long afterwards haunted him. The face was deathly pale,

except that on either cheek burned a red feverish spot, and the eyes

blazed with unnatural light. So much was the squire struck by his

cousin's looks, that he would have dissuaded him from going forth; but

he saw from his manner that the attempt would fail, while a significant

gesture from his brother-in-law told him he was equally uneasy.

Scarcely had the principal nobles passed through the gateway, than, in

spite of all efforts to detain him, Richard struck spurs into his horse,

and dashed amidst the cavalcade, creating great disorder, and rousing

the ire of the Earl of Pembroke, to whom the marshalling of the train

was entrusted. But Richard paid little heed to his wrath, and perhaps

did not hear the angry expressions addressed to him; for no sooner was

he outside the gate, than instead of pursuing the road down which the

King was proceeding, and which has been described as hewn out of the

rock, he struck into a thicket on the right, and, in defiance of all

attempts to stop him, and at the imminent risk of breaking his neck,

rode down the precipitous sides of the hill, and reaching the bottom in

safety, long before the royal cavalcade had attained the same point,

took the direction of the park.

His friends watched him commence this perilous descent in dismay; but,

though much alarmed, they were unable to follow him.

"Poor lad! I am fearful he has lost his senses," said Sherborne.

"He is what the King would call 'fey,' and not long for this world,"

replied Nicholas, shaking his head.

CHAPTER VIII.--HOW KING JAMES HUNTED THE HART AND THE WILD-BOAR IN

HOGHTON PARK.

Galloping on fast and furiously, Richard tracked a narrow path of

greensward, lying between the tall trees composing the right line of the

avenue and the adjoining wood. Within it grew many fine old thorns,

diverting him now and then from his course, but he still held on until

he came within a short distance of the chase, when his attention was

caught by a very singular figure. It was an old man, clad in a robe of

coarse brown serge, with a cowl drawn partly over his head, a rope

girdle like that used by a cordelier, sandal shoon, and a venerable

white beard descending to his waist. The features of the hermit, for

such he seemed, were majestic and benevolent. Seated on a bank overgrown

with wild thyme, beneath the shade of a broad-armed elm, he appeared so

intently engaged in the perusal of a large open volume laid on his

knee, that he did not notice Richard's approach. Deeply interested,

however, by his appearance, the young man determined to address him,

and, reining in his horse, said respectfully, "Save you, father!"

"Pass on, my son," replied the old man, without raising his eyes, "and

hinder not my studies."

But Richard would not be thus dismissed.

"Perchance you are not aware, father," he said, "that the King is about

to hunt within the park this morning. The royal cavalcade has already

left Hoghton Tower, and will be here ere many minutes."

"The king and his retinue will pass along the broad avenue, as you

should have done, and not through this retired road," replied the

hermit. "They will not disturb me."

"I would fain know the subject of your studies, father?" inquired

Richard.

"You are inquisitive, young man," returned the hermit, looking up and

fixing a pair of keen grey eyes upon him. "But I will satisfy your

curiosity, if by so doing I shall rid me of your presence. I am reading

the Book of Fate."

Richard uttered an exclamation of astonishment.

"And in it your destiny is written," pursued the old man; "and a sad one

it is. Consumed by a strange and incurable disease, which may at any

moment prove fatal, you are scarcely likely to survive the next three

days, in which case she you love better than existence will perish

miserably, being adjudged to have destroyed you by witchcraft."

"It must indeed be the Book of Fate that tells you this," cried Richard,

springing from his horse, and approaching close to the old man. "May I

cast eyes upon it?"

"No, my son," replied the old man, closing the volume. "You would not

comprehend the mystic characters--but no eye, except my own, must look

upon them. What is written will be fulfilled. Again, I bid you pass on.

I must speedily return to my hermit cell in the forest."

"May I attend you thither, father?" asked Richard.

"To what purpose?" rejoined the old man. "You have not many hours of

life. Go, then, and pass them in the fierce excitement of the chase.

Pull down the lordly stag--slaughter the savage boar; and, as you see

the poor denizens of the forest perish, think that your own end is not

far off. Hark! Do you hear that boding cry?"

"It is the croak of a raven newly alighted in the tree above us,"

replied Richard. "The sagacious bird will ever attend the huntsman in

the chase, in the hope of obtaining a morsel when they break up deer."

"Such is the custom of the bird I wot well," said the old man; "but it

is not in joyous expectation of the raven's-bone that he croaks now,

but because his fell instinct informs him that the living-dead is

beneath him."

And, as if in answer to the remark, the raven croaked exultingly; and,

rising from the tree, wheeled in a circle above them.

"Is there no way of averting my terrible destiny, father?" cried

Richard, despairingly.

"Ay, if you choose to adopt it," replied the old man. "When I said your

ailment was incurable, I meant by ordinary remedies, but it will yield

to such as I alone can employ. The malignant and fatal influence under

which you labour may be removed, and then your instant restoration to

health and vigour will follow."

"But how, father--how?" cried Richard, eagerly.

"You have simply to sign your name in this book," rejoined the hermit,

"and what you desire shall be done. Here is a pen," he added, taking one

from his girdle.

"But the ink?" cried Richard.

"Prick your arm with your dagger, and dip the pen in the blood," replied

the old man. "That will suffice."

"And what follows if I sign?" demanded Richard, staring at him.

"Your instant cure. I will give you to drink of a wondrous elixir."

"But to what do I bind myself?" asked Richard.

"To serve me," replied the hermit, smiling; "but it is a light service,

and only involves your appearance in this wood once a-year. Are you

agreed?"

"I know not," replied the young man distractedly.

"You must make up your mind speedily," said the hermit; "for I hear the

approach of the royal cavalcade."

And as he spoke, the mellow notes of a bugle, followed by the baying of

hounds, the jingling of bridles, and the trampling of a large troop of

horse, were heard at a short distance down the avenue.

"Tell me who you are?" cried Richard.

"I am the hermit of the wood," replied the old man. "Some people call me

Hobthurst, and some by other names, but you will have no difficulty in

finding me out. Look yonder!" he added, pointing through the trees.

And, glancing in the direction indicated, Richard beheld a small party

on horseback advancing across the plain, consisting of his father, his

sister, and Alizon, with their attendants.

"'Tis she!--'tis she!" he cried.

"Can you hesitate, when it is to save _her_?" demanded the old man.

"Heaven help me, or I am lost!" fervently ejaculated Richard, gazing on

high while making the appeal.

When he looked down again the old man was gone, and he saw only a large

black snake gliding off among the bushes. Muttering a few words of

thankfulness for his deliverance, he sprang upon his horse.

"It may be the arch-tempter is right," he cried, "and that but few hours

of life remain to me; but if so, they shall be employed in endeavours to

vindicate Alizon, and defeat the snares by which she is beset."

With this resolve, he struck spurs into his horse, and set off in the

direction of the little troop. Before, however, he could come up to

them, their progress was arrested by a pursuivant, who, riding in

advance of the royal cavalcade, motioned them to stay till it had

passed, and the same person also perceiving Richard's purpose, called to

him, authoritatively, to keep back. The young man might have disregarded

the injunction, but at the same moment the King himself appeared at the

head of the avenue, and remarking Richard, who was not more than fifty

yards off on the right, instantly recognised him, and shouted out, "Come

hither, young man--come hither!"

Thus, baffled in his design, Richard was forced to comply, and,

uncovering his head, rode slowly towards the monarch. As he approached,

James fixed on him a glance of sharpest scrutiny.

"Odds life! ye hae been ganging a fine gait, young sir," he cried. "Ye

maun be demented to ride down a hill i' that fashion, and as if your

craig war of nae account. It's weel ye hae come aff scaithless. Are ye

tired o' life--or was it the muckle deil himsel' that drove ye on? Canna

ye find an excuse, man? Nay, then, I'll gi'e ye ane. The loadstane will

draw nails out of a door, and there be lassies wi' een strang as

loadstanes, that drag men to their perdition. Stands the magnet yonder,

eh?" he added, glancing towards the little group before them. "Gude

faith! the lass maun be a potent witch to exercise sic influence, and we

wad fain see the effect she has on you when near. Sir Richard Hoghton,"

he called out to the knight, who rode a few paces behind him, "we pray

you present Sir Richard Assheton and his daughter to us."

Had he dared so to do, Richard would have thrown himself at the King's

feet, but all he could venture upon was to say in a low earnest tone,

"Do not prejudge Alizon, sire. On my soul she is innocent!"

"The King prejudges nae man," replied James, in a tone of rebuke; "and

like the wise prince of Israel, whom it is his wish to resemble, he sees

with his ain een, and hears with his ain ears, afore he forms

conclusions."

"That is all I can desire, sire," replied Richard. "Far be it from me to

doubt your majesty's discrimination or love of justice."

"Ye shall hae proofs of baith, man, afore we hae done," said James. "Ah!

here comes our host, an the twa lassies wi' him. She wi' the lintwhite

locks is your sister, we guess, and the ither is Alizon--and, by our

troth, a weel-faur'd lass. But Satan is aye delusive. We maun resist his

snares."

The party now came on, and were formally presented to the monarch by Sir

Richard Hoghton. Sir Richard Assheton, a middle-aged gentleman, with

handsome features, though somewhat haughty in expression, and stately

deportment, was very graciously received, and James thought fit to pay a

few compliments to Dorothy, covertly regarding Alizon the while, yet not

neglecting Richard, being ready to intercept any signal that should pass

between them. None, however, was attempted, for the young man felt he

should only alarm and embarrass Alizon by any attempt to caution her,

and he therefore endeavoured to assume an unconcerned aspect and

demeanour.

"We hae heard the beauty of the Lancashire lassies highly commended,"

said the King; "but, faith! it passes expectation. Twa lovelier damsels

than these we never beheld. Baith are rare specimens o' Nature's

handiwark."

"Your Majesty is pleased to be complimentary," rejoined Sir Richard

Assheton.

"Na, Sir Richard," returned James. "We arena gien to flichtering, though

aften beflummed oursel'. Baith are bonnie lassies, we repeat. An sae

this is Alizon Nutter--it wad be Ailsie in our ain Scottish tongue, to

which your Lancashire vernacular closely approximates, Sir Richard.

Aweel, fair Alizon," he added, eyeing her narrowly, "ye hae lost your

mither, we understand?"

The young girl was not discomposed by this question, but answered in a

firm, melancholy tone--"Your Majesty, I fear, is too well acquainted

with my unfortunate mother's history."

"Aweel, we winna deny having heard somewhat to her disadvantage,"

replied the King--"but your ain looks gang far to contradict the

reports, fair maid."

"Place no faith in them then, sire," replied Alizon, sadly.

"Eh! what!--then you admit your mother's guilt?" cried the King,

sharply.

"I neither admit it nor deny it, sire," she replied. "It must be for

your Majesty to judge her."

"Weel answered," muttered James,--"but I mustna forget, that the deil

himsel' can quote Scripture to serve his purpose. But you hold in

abhorrence the crime laid to your mother's charge--eh?" he added aloud.

"In utter abhorrence," replied Alizon.

"Gude--vera gude," rejoined the King. "But, entertaining this feeling,

how conies it you screen so heinous an offender frae justice? Nae

natural feeling should be allowed to weigh in sic a case."

"Nor should it, sire, with me," replied Alizon--"because I believe my

poor mother's eternal welfare would be best consulted if she underwent

temporal punishment. Neither is she herself anxious to avoid it."

"Then why does she keep out of the way--why does she not surrender

herself?" cried the King.

"Because--" and Alizon stopped.

"Because what?" demanded James.

"Pardon me, sire, I must decline answering further questions on the

subject," replied Alizon. "Whatever concerns myself or my mother alone,

I will state freely, but I cannot compromise others."

"Aha! then there are others concerned in it?" cried James. "We thought

as much. We will interrogate you further hereafter--but a word mair. We

trust ye are devout, and constant in your religious exercises, damsel."

"I will answer for that, sire," interposed Sir Richard Assheton.

"Alizon's whole time is spent in prayer for her unfortunate mother. If

there be a fault it is that she goes too far, and injures her health by

her zeal."

"A gude fault that, Sir Richard," observed the King, approvingly.

"It beseems me not to speak of myself, sire," said Alizon, "and I am

loth to do so--but I beseech your majesty to believe, that if my life

might be offered as an atonement for my mother, I would freely yield

it."

"I' gude faith she staggers me in my opinion," muttered James, "and I

maun look into the matter mair closely. The lass is far different frae

what I imagined her. But the wiles o' Satan arena to be comprehended,

and he will put on the semblance of righteousness when seeking to

beguile the righteous. Aweel, damsel," he added aloud, "ye speak

feelingly and properly, and as a daughter should speak, and we respect

your feelings--provided they be sic as ye represent them. And now

dispose yourselves for the chase."

"I must pray your Majesty to dismiss me," said Alizon. "It is a sight in

which at any time I take small pleasure, and now it is especially

distasteful to me. With your permission, I will proceed to Hoghton

Tower."

"I also crave your Majesty's leave to go with her," said Dorothy.

"I will attend them," interposed Richard.

"Na, you maun stay wi' us, young sir," cried the King. "Your gude father

will gang wi' 'em. Sir John Finett," he added, calling to the master of

the ceremonies, and speaking in his ear, "see that they be followed, and

that a special watch be kept over Alizon, and also over this

youth,--d'ye mark me?--in fact, ower a' the Assheton clan. And now," he

cried in a loud voice, "let them blaw the strake."

The chief huntsman having placed the bugle to his lips, and blown a

strike with two winds, a short consultation was held between him and

James, who loved to display his knowledge as a woodsman; and while this

was going forward, Nicholas and Sherborne having come up, the squire

dismounted, and committing Robin to his brother-in-law, approached the

monarch.

"If I may be so bold as to put in a word, my liege," he said, "I can

show you where a hart of ten is assuredly harboured. I viewed him as I

rode through the park this morning, and cannot, therefore, be mistaken.

His head is high and well palmed, great beamed and in good proportion,

well burred and well pearled. He is stately in height, long, and well

fed."

"Did you mark the slot, sir?" inquired James.

"I did, my liege," replied Nicholas. "And a long slot it was; the toes

great, with round short joint-bones, large shin-bones, and the dew-claws

close together. I will uphold him for a great old hart as ever

proffered, and one that shall shew your Majesty rare sport."

"And we'll tak your word for the matter, sir," said James; "for ye're as

gude a woodman as any we hae in our dominions. Bring us to him, then."

"Will it please your Majesty to ride towards yon glade?" said Nicholas,

"and, before you reach it, the hart shall be roused."

James, assenting to the arrangement, Nicholas sprang upon his steed,

and, calling to the chief huntsman, they galloped off together,

accompanied by the bloodhound, the royal cavalcade following somewhat

more slowly in the same direction. A fair sight it was to see that

splendid company careering over the plain, their feathered caps and gay

mantles glittering in the sun, which shone brightly upon them. The

morning was lovely, giving promise that the day, when further advanced,

would be intensely hot, but at present it was fresh and delightful, and

the whole company, exhilarated by the exercise, and by animated

conversation, were in high spirits; and perhaps amongst the huge party,

which numbered nearly three hundred persons, one alone was a prey to

despair. But though Richard Assheton suffered thus internally, he bore

his anguish with Spartan firmness, resolved, if possible, to let no

trace of it be visible in his features or deportment; and he so far

succeeded in conquering himself, that the King, who kept a watchful eye

upon him, remarked to Sir John Finett as they rode along, that a

singular improvement had taken place in the young man's appearance.

The cavalcade was rapidly approaching the glade at the lower end of the

chase, when the lively notes of a horn were heard from the adjoining

wood, followed by the deep baying of a bloodhound.

"Aha! they have roused him," cried the King, joyfully placing his own

bugle to his lips, and sounding an answer. Upon this the whole company

halted in anxious expectation, the hounds baying loudly. The next

moment, a noble hart burst from the wood, whence he had been driven by

the shouts of Nicholas and the chief huntsman, both of whom appeared

immediately afterwards.

"By my faith! a great hart as ever was hunted," exclaimed the King.

"There boys, there! to him! to him!"

Dashing after the flying hart, the hounds made the welkin ring with

their cries. Many lovely damsels were there, but none thought of the

cruelty of the sport--none sympathised with the noble animal they were

running to death. The cries of the hounds--now loud and ringing--now

deep and doling, accompanied by the whooping of the huntsmen, formed a

stirring concert, which found a response in many a gentle bosom. The

whole cavalcade was spread widely about, for none were allowed to ride

near the King. Over the plain they scoured, fleet as the wind, and the

hart seemed making for a fell, forming part of the hill near the

mansion. But ere he reached it, the relays stationed within a covert

burst forth, and, turning him aside, he once more dashed fleetly across

the broad expanse, as if about to return to his old lair. Now he was

seen plunging into some bosky dell; and, after being lost to view for a

moment, bounding up the opposite bank, and stretching across a tract

thickly covered with fern. Here he gained upon the hounds, who were lost

in the green wilderness, and their cries were hushed for a brief

space--but anon they burst forth anew, and the pack were soon again in

full cry, and speeding over the open ground.

At first the cavalcade had kept pretty well together, but on the return

the case was very different; and many of the dames, being unable to keep

up with the hounds, fell off, and, as a natural consequence, many of the

gallants lingered behind, too. Thus only the keenest huntsmen held on.

Amongst these, and about fifty yards behind the King, were Richard and

Nicholas. The squire was right when he predicted that the hart would

show them good sport. Plunging into the wood, the hard-pressed beast

knocked up another stag, and took possession of his lair, but was

speedily roused again by Nicholas and the chief huntsman. Once more he

is crossing the wide plain, with hounds and huntsmen after him--once

more he is turned by a new relay; but this time he shapes his course

towards the woods skirting the Darwen. It is a piteous sight to see him

now; his coat black and glistening with sweat, his mouth embossed with

foam, his eyes dull, big tears coursing down his cheeks, and his noble

head carried low. His end seems nigh--for the hounds, though weary too,

redouble their energies, and the monarch cheers them on. Again the poor

beast erects his head--if he can only reach yon coppice he is safe.

Despair nerves him, and with gigantic bounds he clears the intervening

space, and disappears beneath the branches. Quickly as the hounds come

after him, they are at fault.

"He has taken to the soil, sire," cried Nicholas coming up. "To the

river--to the river! You may see by the broken branches he has gone this

way."

Forcing his way through the wood, James was soon on the banks of the

Darwen, which here ran deep and slow. The hart was nowhere to be seen,

nor was there any slot on the further side to denote that he had gone

forth. It was evident, therefore, that he had swam down the stream. At

this moment a shout was heard a hundred yards lower down, proceeding

from Nicholas; and, riding in the direction of the sound, the King found

the hart at bay on the further side of the stream, and nearly up to his

haunches in the water. The King regarded him for a moment anxiously. The

poor animal was now in his last extremity, but he seemed determined to

sell his life dearly. He stood on a bank projecting into the stream,

round which the water flowed deeply, and could not be approached without

difficulty and danger. He had already gored several hounds, whose

bleeding bodies were swept down the current; and, though the others

bayed round him, they did not dare to approach him, and could not get

behind him, as a high bank arose in his rear.

"Have I your Majesty's permission to despatch him?" asked Nicholas.

"Ay, marry, if you can, sir," replied James. "But 'ware the

tynes!--'ware the tynes!--'If thou be hurt with hart it brings thee to

thy bier,' as the auld ballad hath it, and the adage is true, as we

oursel's have seen."

Nicholas, however, heeded not the caution, but, drawing his wood-knife,

and disencumbering himself of his cloak, he plunged into the stream, and

with one or two strokes reached the bank. The hart watched his approach,

as if divining his purpose, with a look half menacing, half reproachful,

and when he came near, dashed his antlered head at him. Nimbly eluding

the blow, which, if it had taken effect, might have proved serious,

Nicholas plunged his weapon into the poor brute's throat, who instantly

fell with a heavy splash into the water.

"Weel stricken! weel stricken!" shouted James, who had witnessed the

performance from the opposite bank. "But how shall we get the carcase

here?"

"That is easily done, sire," replied Nicholas. And taking hold of the

horns, he guided the body to a low bank, a little below where the King

stood.

As soon as it was dragged ashore by the prickers, James put his bugle to

his lips and blew a mort. A pryse was thrice sounded by Nicholas, and

soon afterwards the whole company came flocking round the spot, whooping

the death-note.

Meanwhile, the hounds had gathered round the fallen hart, and were

allowed to wreak their fury on him by tearing his throat, happily after

sensibility was gone; while Nicholas, again baring his knife, cut off

the right fore-foot, and presented it to the King. While this ceremony

was performed, the varlets of the kennel having cut down a great heap of

green branches, and strewn them on the ground, laid the hart upon them,

on his back, and then bore him to an open space in the wood, where he

was broken up by the King, who prided himself upon his skill in all

matters of woodcraft. While this office was in course of execution a

bowl of wine was poured out for the monarch, which he took, adverting,

as he did so, to the common superstition, that if a huntsman should

break up a deer without drinking, the venison would putrefy. Having

drained the cup, he caused it to be filled again, and gave it to

Nicholas, saying the liquor was needful to him after the drenching he

had undergone. James then proceeded with his task, and just before he

completed it, he was reminded, by a loud croak above him, that a raven

was at hand, and accordingly taking a piece of gristle from the spoon of

the brisket, he cast it on the ground, and the bird immediately pounced

down upon it and carried it off in his huge beak.

After a brief interval, the seek was again winded, another hart was

roused, and after a short but swift chase, pulled down by the hounds,

and dispatched with his own hand by James. Sir Richard Hoghton then

besought the King to follow him, and led the way to a verdant hollow

surrounded by trees, in which shady and delicious retreat preparations

had been made for a slight silvan repast. Upon a mossy bank beneath a

tree, a cushion was placed for the King, and before it on the sward was

laid a cloth spread with many dainties, including

"Neats' tongues powder'd well, and jambons of the hog,

With sausages and savoury knacks to set men's minds agog"--

cold capons, and pigeon pies. Close at hand was a clear cold spring, in

which numerous flasks of wine were immersed. A few embers, too, had been

lighted, on which carbonadoes of venison were prepared.

No great form or ceremony was observed at the entertainment. Sir John

Finett and Sir Thomas Hoghton were in close attendance upon the monarch,

and ministered to his wants; but several of the nobles and gentlemen

stretched themselves on the sward, and addressed themselves to the

viands set before them by the pages. None of the dames dismounted, and

few could be prevailed upon to take any refreshment. Besides the flasks

of wine, there were two barrels of ale in a small cart, drawn by a mule,

both of which were broached. The whole scene was picturesque and

pleasing, and well calculated to gratify one so fond of silvan sports as

the monarch for whom it was provided.

In the midst of all this tranquillity and enjoyment an incident occurred

which interrupted it as completely as if a thunder-storm had suddenly

come on. Just when the mirth was at the highest, and when the flowing

cup was at many a lip, a tremendous bellowing, followed by the crashing

of branches, was heard in the adjoining thicket. All started to their

feet at the appalling sound, and the King himself turned pale.

"What in Heaven's name can it be, Sir Richard?" he inquired. "It must be

a drove of wild cattle," replied the baronet, trembling.

"Wild cattle!" ejaculated James, in great alarm; "and sae near us.

Zounds! we shall be trampled and gored to death by these bulls of Basan.

Sir Richard, ye are a fause traitor thus to endanger the safety o' your

sovereign, and ye shall answer for it, if harm come o' it."

"I am unable to account for it, sire," stammered the frightened baronet.

"I gave special directions to the prickers to drive the beasts away."

"Ye shouldna keep sic deevils i' your park, man," cried the monarch.

"Eh! what's that?"

Amidst all this consternation and confusion the bellowing was redoubled,

and the crashing of branches drew nearer and nearer, and Nicholas

Assheton rushed forward with the King's horse, saying, "Mount, sire;

mount, and away!"

But James was so much alarmed that his limbs refused to perform their

office, and he was unable to put foot in the stirrup. Seeing his

condition, Nicholas cried out, "Pardon, my liege; but at a moment of

peril like the present, one must not stand on ceremony."

So saying, he took the King round the waist, and placed him on his

steed.

At this juncture, a loud cry was heard, and a man in extremity of terror

issued from the wood, and dashed towards the hollow. Close on his heels

came the drove of wild cattle, and, just as he gained the very verge of

the descent, the foremost of the herd overtook him, and lowering his

curled head, caught him on the points of his horns, and threw him

forwards to such a distance that he alighted with a heavy crash almost

at the King's feet. Satisfied, apparently, with their vengeance, or

alarmed by the numerous assemblage, the drove instantly turned tail and

were pursued into the depths of the forest by the prickers.

Having recovered his composure, James bade some of the attendants raise

the poor wretch, who was lying groaning upon the ground, evidently so

much injured as to be unable to move without assistance. His garb was

that of a forester, and his bulk--for he was stoutly and squarely

built--had contributed, no doubt, to the severity of the fall. When he

was lifted from the ground, Nicholas instantly recognised in his

blackened and distorted features those of Christopher Demdike.

"What?" he exclaimed, rushing towards him. "Is it thou, villain?"

The sufferer only replied by a look of intense malignity.

"Eh! what--d'ye ken wha it is?" demanded James. "By my saul! I fear the

puir fellow has maist of his banes broken."

"No great matter if they be," replied Nicholas, "and it may save the

application of torture in case your Majesty desires to put any question

to him. Chance has most strangely thrown into your hands one of the most

heinous offenders in the kingdom, who has long escaped justice, but who

will at length meet the punishment of his crimes. The villain is

Christopher Demdike, son of the foul hag who perished in the flames on

the summit of Pendle Hill, and captain of a band of robbers."

"What! is the knave a warlock and a riever?" demanded James, regarding

Demdike with abhorrence, mingled with alarm.

"Both, sire," replied Nicholas, "and an assassin to boot. He is a

diabolical villain."

"Let him be taken to Hoghton Tower, and kept in some strong and secure

place till we have leisure to examine him," said James,--"and see that

he be visited by some skilful chirurgeon, for we wadna hae him dee, and

sae rob the woodie."

Demdike, who appeared to be in great agony, now forced himself to speak.

"I can make important disclosures to your Majesty," he said, in hoarse

and broken tones, "if you will hear them. I am not the only offender who

has escaped from justice," he added, glancing vindictively at

Nicholas--"there is another, a notorious witch and murderess, who is

still screened from justice. I can reveal her hiding-place."

"Your Majesty will not give heed to such a villain's fabrications?" said

Nicholas.

"Are they fabrications, sir?" rejoined James, somewhat sharply. "We maun

hear and judge. The snake, though scotched, will still bite, it seems.

We hae hangit a Highland cateran without trial afore this, and we may be

tempted to tak the law into our ain hands again. Bear the villain hence.

See he be disposed of as already directed, and take good care he is

strictly guarded. And now gie us a crossbow, Sir Richard Hoghton, and

bid the prickers drive the deer afore us, for we wad try our skill as a

marksman."

And while Demdike was placed on the litter of green boughs which had

recently sustained a nobler burthen in the fallen hart, and in this sort

was conveyed to Hoghton Tower, James rode with his retinue towards a

long glade, where, receiving a crossbow from the huntsman, he took up a

favourable position behind a large oak, and several herds of deer being

driven before him, he selected his quarries, and deliberately took aim

at them, contriving in the course of an hour to bring down four fat

bucks, and to maim as many others, which were pulled down by the hounds.

And with this slaughter he was content.

Sir Richard Hoghton then informed his Majesty that a huge boar, which,

in sporting phrase, had left the sounder five years, had broken into the

park the night before, and had been routing amongst the fern. The age

and size of the animal were known by the print of the feet, the toes

being round and thick, the edge of the hoof worn and blunt, the heel

large, and the guards, or dew-claws, great and open, from all which

appearances it was adjudged by the baronet to be "a great old boar, not

to be refused."

James at once agreed to hunt him, and the hounds being taken away, six

couples of magnificent mastiffs, of the Lancashire breed, were brought

forward, and the monarch, under the guidance of Sir Richard Hoghton and

the chief huntsman, repaired to an adjoining thicket, in which the boar

fed and couched.

On arriving near his den, a boar-spear was given to the King, and the

prickers advancing into the wood, presently afterwards reared the

enormous brute. Sallying forth, and freaming furiously, he was instantly

assailed by the mastiffs; but, notwithstanding the number of his

assailants, he made light of them, shaking them from his bristly hide,

crushing them beneath his horny feet, thrusting at them with his

sharpened tusks, and committing terrible devastation among them.

Repeated charges were made upon the savage animal by James, but it was

next to impossible to get a blow at him for some time; and when at

length the monarch made the attempt, he struck too low, and hit him on

the snout, upon which the infuriated boar, finding himself wounded,

sprang towards the horse, and ripped him open with his tusks.

The noble charger instantly rolled over on his side, exposing the royal

huntsman to the fury of his merciless assailant, whose tusks must have

ploughed his flesh, if at this moment a young man had not ridden

forward, and at the greatest personal risk approached the boar, and,

striking straight downwards, cleft the heart of the fierce brute with

his spear.

Meanwhile, the King, having been disengaged by the prickers from his

wounded steed, which was instantly put out of its agony by the sword of

the chief huntsman, looked for his deliverer, and, discovering him to be

Richard Assheton, was loud in his expressions of gratitude.

"Faith! ye maun claim a boon at our hands," said James. "It maun never

be said the King is ungrateful. What can we do for you, lad?"

"For myself nothing, sire," replied Richard.

"But for another meikle--is that what ye wad hae us infer?" cried the

King, with a smile. "Aweel, the lassie shall hae strict justice done

her; but for your ain sake we maun inquire into the matter. Meantime,

wear this," he added, taking a magnificent sapphire ring from his

finger, "and, if you should ever need our aid, send it to us as a

token."

Richard took the gift, and knelt to kiss the hand so graciously

extended to him.

By this time another horse had been provided for the monarch, and the

enormous boar, with his feet upwards and tied together, was suspended

upon a pole, and borne on the shoulders of four stout varlets as the

grand trophy of the chase.

When the royal company issued from the wood a strike of nine was blown

by the chief huntsman, and such of the cavalcade as still remained on

the field being collected together, the party crossed the chase, and

took the direction of Hoghton Tower.

CHAPTER IX.--THE BANQUET.

On the King's return to Hoghton Tower, orders were given by Sir Richard

for the immediate service of the banquet; it being the hospitable

baronet's desire that festivities should succeed each other so rapidly

as to allow of no tedium.

The _coup-d'oeil_ of the banquet hall on the monarch's entrance was

magnificent. Panelled with black lustrous oak, and lighted by mullion

windows, filled with stained glass and emblazoned with the armorial

bearings of the family, the vast and lofty hall was hung with banners,

and decorated with panoplies and trophies of the chase. Three long

tables ran down it, each containing a hundred covers. At the lower end

were stationed the heralds, the pursuivants, and a band of yeomen of the

guard, with the royal badge, a demi-rose crowned, impaled with a

demi-thistle, woven in gold on their doublets, and having fringed

pole-axes over their shoulders. Behind them was a richly carved oak

screen, concealing the passages leading to the buttery and kitchens, in

which the clerk of the kitchen, the pantlers, and the yeomen of the

cellar and ewery, were hurrying to and fro. Above the screen was a

gallery, occupied by the trumpeters and minstrels; and over all was a

noble rafter roof. The tables were profusely spread, and glittered with

silver dishes of extraordinary size and splendour, as well as with

flagons and goblets of the same material, and rare design. The guests,

all of whom were assembled, were outnumbered by the prodigious array of

serving-men, pages, and yeomen waiters in the yellow and red liveries of

the Stuart.

Flourishes of trumpets announced the coming of the monarch, who was

preceded by Sir Richard Hoghton, bearing a white wand, and ushered with

much ceremony to his place. At the upper end of the hall was a raised

floor, and on either side of it an oriel window, glowing with painted

glass. On this dais the King's table was placed, underneath a canopy of

state, embroidered with the royal arms, and bearing James's kindly

motto, "_Beati Pacifici_." Seats were reserved at it for the Dukes of

Buckingham and Richmond, the Earls of Pembroke and Nottingham, the

Lords Howard of Effingham and Grey of Groby, Sir Gilbert Hoghton, and

the Bishop of Chester. These constituted the favoured guests. Grace

having been said by the bishop, the whole company took their seats, and

the general stillness hitherto prevailing throughout the vast hall was

broken instantaneously by the clatter of trenchers.

A famous feast it was, and worthy of commemoration. Masters Morris and

Miller, the two cooks who contrived it, as well as the labourers for the

ranges, for the pastries, for the boiled meats, and for the pullets,

performed their respective parts to admiration. The result was all that

could be desired. The fare was solid and substantial, consisting of

dishes which could be cut and come to again. Amongst the roast meats

were chines of beef, haunches of venison, gigots of mutton, fatted

geese, capons, turkeys, and sucking pigs; amongst the boiled, pullets,

lamb, and veal; but baked meats chiefly abounded, and amongst them were

to be found red-deer pasty, hare-pie, gammon-of-bacon pie, and baked

wild-boar. With the salads, which were nothing more than what would,

now-a-days be termed "vegetables," were mixed all kinds of soused fish,

arranged according to the sewer's directions--"the salads spread about

the tables, the fricassees mixed with them, the boiled meats among the

fricassees, roast meats amongst the boiled, baked meats amongst the

roast, and carbonadoes amongst the baked." This was the first course

merely. In the second were all kinds of game and wild-fowl, roast herons

three in a dish, bitterns, cranes, bustards, curlews, dotterels, and

pewits. Besides these there were lumbar pies, marrow pies, quince pies,

artichoke pies, florentines, and innumerable other good things. Some

dishes were specially reserved for the King's table, as a baked swan, a

roast peacock, and the jowl of a sturgeon soused. These and a piece of

roast beef formed the principal dishes.

The attendants at the royal table comprised such gentlemen as wore Sir

Richard Hoghton's liveries, and amongst these, of course, were Nicholas

Assheton and Sherborne. On seeing the former, the King immediately

inquired about his deliverer, and on hearing he was at the lower tables,

desired he might be sent for, and, as Richard soon afterwards appeared,

having on his return from the chase changed his sombre apparel for gayer

attire, James smiled graciously upon him, and more than once, as a mark

of especial favour, took the wine-cup from his hands.

The King did ample justice to the good things before him, and especially

to the beef, which he found so excellent, that the carver had to help

him for the second time. Sir Richard Hoghton ventured to express his

gratification that his Majesty found the meat good--"Indeed, it is

generally admitted," he said, "that our Lancashire beef is well fed, and

well flavoured."

"Weel flavoured!" exclaimed James, as he swallowed the last juicy

morsel; "it is delicious! Finer beef nae man ever put teeth into, an I

only wish a' my loving subjects had as gude a dinner as I hae this day

eaten. What joint do ye ca' it, Sir Richard?" he asked, with eyes

evidently twinkling with a premeditated jest. "This dish," replied the

host, somewhat surprised "this, sire, is a loin of beef."

"A loin!" exclaimed James, taking the carving-knife from the sewer, who

stood by, "by my faith that is not title honourable enough for joint sae

worthy. It wants a dignity, and it shall hae it. Henceforth," he added,

touching the meat with the flat of the long blade, as if placing the

sword on the back of a knight expectant, "henceforth, it shall be

SIR-LOIN, an see ye ca' it sae. Give me a cup of wine, Master Richard

Assheton."

All the nobles at the table laughed loudly at the monarch's jest, and as

it was soon past down to those at the lower table, the hall resounded

with laughter, in which page and attendant of every degree joined, to

the great satisfaction of the good-natured originator of the

merriment.[4]

"My dear dad and gossip appears in unwonted good spirits to-day,"

observed the Duke of Buckingham.

"An wi' gude reason, Steenie," replied the King, "for we dinna mind when

we hae had better sport--always excepting the boar-hunt, when we should

hae been rippit up by the cursed creature's tusks but for this braw

laddie," he added, pointing to Richard. "Ye maun see what can be done

for him, Steenie. We maun hae him at court."

"Your Majesty's wishes have only to be expressed to be fulfilled,"

replied Buckingham, somewhat drily.

"Were I the lad I wadna place ower meikle dependence on the Duke's

promises," remarked Archie Armstrong, in a low tone, to Nicholas.

"Has your Majesty made any further inquiries about the girl suspected of

witchcraft?" inquired Buckingham, renewing the conversation.

"Whist, Steenie, whist!" cried James. "Didna ye see her yoursel' this

morning?" he added, in a low tone. "Ah! I recollect ye werena at the

chase. Aweel, I hae conferred wi' her, an am sair perplexed i' the

matter. She is a well-faur'd lassie as ony i' the realm, and answers

decorously and doucely. Sooth to say, her looks and manners are mightily

in her favour."

"Then you mean to dismiss the matter without further investigation?"

observed Buckingham. "I always thought your Majesty delighted to

exercise your sagacity in detecting the illusions practised by Satan and

his worshippers."

"An sae we do," replied James. "But bend your bonnie head this way till

we whisper in your ear. We hae a device for finding it a' out, which

canna fail; and when you ken it you will applaud your dear dad's wisdom,

and perfit maistery o' the haill science o' kingcraft."

"I would your Majesty would make me acquainted with this notable

scheme," replied Buckingham, with ill-concealed contempt. "I might make

it more certain of success."

"Na--na--we shanna let the cat out of the bag just yet," returned the

King. "We mean it as a surprise to ye a'."

"Then, whatever be the result, it is certain to answer the effect

intended," observed the Duke.

"Gae wa'! ye are ever sceptical, Steenie--ever misdoubting your ain dear

dad and gossip," rejoined James; "but ye shall find we haena earned the

title o' the British Solomon for naething."

Soon after this the King arose, and was ushered to his apartments by Sir

Richard Hoghton with the same ceremony as had been observed on his

entrance. He was followed by all the nobles; and Nicholas and the

others, being released from their duties, repaired to the lower end of

the hall to dine. The revel was now sufficiently boisterous; for, as the

dames had departed at the same time as the monarch, all restraint was

cast aside. The wine-cup flowed freely, and the rafters rang with

laughter. Under ordinary circumstances Richard would have shrunk from

such a scene; but he had now a part to play, and therefore essayed to

laugh at each jest, and to appear as reckless as his neighbours. He was

glad, however, when the signal for general dispersion was given; for

though Sir Richard Hoghton was unwilling to stint his guests, he was

fearful, if they sat too long over their wine, some disturbances might

ensue; and indeed, when the revellers came forth and dispersed within

the base court, their flushed cheeks, loud voices, and unsteady gait,

showed that their potations had already been deep enough.

Meanwhile, quite as much mirth was taking place out of doors as had

occurred within the banqueting-hall. As soon as the King sat down to

dinner, according to promise the gates were thrown open, and the crowd

outside admitted. The huge roast was then taken down, carved, and

distributed among them; the only difficulty experienced being in regard

to trenchers, and various and extraordinary were the contrivances

resorted to to supply the deficiency. This circumstance, however, served

to heighten the fun, and, as several casks of stout ale were broached at

the same time, universal hilarity prevailed. Still, in the midst of so

vast a concourse, many component parts of which had now began to

experience the effects of the potent liquor, some little manifestation

of disorder might naturally be expected; but all such was speedily

quelled by the yeomen of the guard, and other officials appointed for

the purpose, and, amidst the uproar and confusion, harmony generally

prevailed.