wwwww fleetest, most faithful hounds he had ever reared. He was affectionately attached to it; it had twice saved his life, and he thought only of its danger as he would that of one of his best and truest friends; and, in truth, Lance had proved himself one. "By the Holy Virgin!" he muttered, grinding his teeth and clenching his hand instinctively, "If I catch the rogue who has treated thee thus, I'll teach him how to destroy a thorough-bred hound, as if he were a wolf or any other useless beast. Lie there, Lance, lie still, good dog, until I return, and then, if I find thee alive, thou shalt home with me, and I'll try what Lincoln's skill can do for thee; if not, I'll dig thee a grave myself the bones of one so faithful as thou hast been shalt not bleach in the air while I have strength of arm to turn out a few feet of earth for thee, my good old dog." A tear gathered itself in his eyelid, and he brushed it hastily away, saying "I have done that for thee, Lance, I have not for my wife's brother-I have shed a tear over thee, and I am not much used to weeping, I can tell thee; lie thou there, good dog, I'll be back anon.' The hound seemed to understand him, for it gave another low melancholy whine, turned its large expressive eyes upon his master, and then nestled his head between his coiled legs. "Now, St. Peter throw the fiend's } bantling in my path," Gilbert added, “and I'll say an { extra Ave Maria for the chance I may get to make him dance to the music of a crab-tree staff, and no stouter arm than mine to play it." Muttering thus did Gilbert proceed rapidly along the same path, which Marian, in her fright, so swiftly had pursued; as he came to its termination a sudden shade was thrown by some passing figure on the moonlight glade into which he was entering; it appeared to come from the side of a tree of considerable dimensions, and Gilbert, alive to every chance which might { throw a clue in his way tending to discover the object of his search, darted round it and ran forcibly against the rough outlaw who had pursued Marian. He was in the very act, hearing approaching footsteps, of peeping round to see the new comer, and ascertain his character and purpose, when he thus suddenly plumped into his arms. The concussion was great, for neither expected any one was so near; but the worst of the shock was sustained by the outlaw, who, weakened by his recent loss of blood, had not strength to bear Gilbert's stalwart frame, and by a natural consequence, staggered and fell back upon the turf with considerable force. Gilbert, with some difficulty, saved himself from falling over him, but trod so heavily upon the fellow's extended hand, that he uttered a roar as if he had been wounded in a thousand places at once. Gilbert assisted him to rise, but not to depart, for he favoured him with a scrutiny by no means slight. His inspection anything but satisfied him, and he therefore commenced an examination of him. "Who are you?" was his first question. and then I'll tell you whether I'll let you take me a-visiting." "I have no objection at all to do that; but I must first premise," returned Gilbert; "that if you do not do as I wish you, you will not be asked to let me take you a-visiting-you'll come whether you like it or no. These are my questions:--first, have you seen aught of a young dark-haired maiden, clothed in a light woollen garment decorated with red ribbons, this evening, in this or any part of the forest ?" The outlaw smiled grimly, and then said, “Well, your next question ?" "That is answered by your devilish grin," uttered Gilbert quickly. "It was a hound's fangs that gave you this wound at the side of your head ?"—and he sprung at the fellow, and tore the bandage from his head. "Hell and fury!" shouted the man, thrown off his guard, "how knew you that? you couldn't knowthere were none here but our two selves. "You have unwittingly confessed, villain!" cried Gilbert, seizing him by the throat, "tell me, where is the maiden? speak, ruffian! monster, speak! or, by the grace of Heaven! I'll squeeze every morsel of life out of your damnable carcase-speak!" Gilbert did not consider, in the paroxysm of his fury, while he compressed with all his strength the windpipe of the unfortunate wretch, that it was not very possible to articulate distinctly; but he began to discover this by observing the sudden expansion of the man's eyes, which were beginning to resemble the markings upon a peacock's tail on a large scale, while his face, naturally dark, grew blue, then black, and his tongue was thrust out of his mouth, roving rapidly from right to left. As it was not the intention of Gilbert to utterly kill the fellow, as he should lose all information if he did, he relaxed his hold, and gave him a hurl which sent him staggering back. Gilbert, however, followed him closely. "Speak," he roared; "speak, dog! hell-hound! tell me where is the maiden ? tell me. I know where the hound is; of that hereafter; but tell me what have you done with the maiden ?" The outlaw was a moment ere he recovered his breath; he looked wildly about him, for he did not precisely remember the locality he was in, in consequence of the necklace he had just had fitted on. When, however, a dawning consciousness pointed out to him where he was, and how he had been treated, he, with all the speed he was master of, turned his cross-bow from his back to his hands he had no bolts or he would have shot at once-grasped it with both hands, and made a desperate blow with the butt end of it at Gilbert's head. He was unprepared for it, saw it descending, had barely time to jerk his head on one side, when it alighted upon his shoulder with tremendous force; he staggered, fell to the ground, but regained his feet in a moment. Gilbert was never without his crab-tree staff; he played well at it, and there was a little mixture of pride in his preferring it to any other weapon, when engaged in any sudden strife; he therefore now threw away his bow and grasped his staff firmly, at the same time crying out— "What's that to you?" was the grumbling reply. "Much!" returned Gilbert; "I am a forest-keeper, and you-I am sorry to be personal-look as like a hang-dog, a cut-throat, a forest law-breaker, as one "Now, my fine fellow, see how I'll make you skip; pea resembles another; but answer me faithfully two you have never had sore bones yet; I'll beat every bit or three questions I have to make, and I may let you of life out of you, and hang you after, and then I pass scot free; if you do not, why I'll introduce you shall not repay half what I owe you; now, dance, to the sheriff and the gaol. You have now an oppor-you rogue." Gilbert made play with his staff by tunity of seeing which you prefer what I have offered, or a very high gallows in the market-place of Nottingham." There are two words to a bargain," said the outlaw; "first let me know what your questions are, giving the fellow such a whistling rap upon the earthe sore ear-that he grinned hideously, but uttered no sound, though his head did. He had only his cross-bow to defend himself, and that was of little use, from its unwieldiness, against the light staff used so briskly and smartly by Gilbert; his only chance to avoid the rapid blows poured upon him was by following his opponent's advice, and leap here and there. He did so, but soon got out of breath; but Gilbert allowed no breathing time-he followed him up, made his staff fly in all directions so dexterously and so swiftly, that the wretched outlaw never knew where to expect it, until the ring of his bones told him that it had come. He began to have serious thoughts of crying for quarter; it was not possible for human nature to bear this severe handling much longer. Still he thought, "If I can only break his staff, I'll beat his brains out with the butt end of this; I will, I will." He clenched his teeth hard, and in spite of hard knocks, gathered himself up for a blow at the staff, which would shiver it to atoms. At length a fair opportunity, as he believed, served, and using all his strength, he swang his bow from his back to give it all the force he could, and dealt it at the staff, but it was too long in describing the circle. Gilbert avoided it, and the outlaw, not calculating upon missing, had the pleasure of finding it bury itself in the ground with such tenacity that he could not readily extricate it, and he pulled hard too. To see how Gilbert belaboured him while this chance was in his power! 66 Quarter!" roared he; "have mercy! quarter! quarter!" But Gilbert was too excited to hear-he rapped away even passionately; at length, the stillness of the man told him it was time to leave off. "I have beaten the rogue insensible!" he muttered, pausing to recover his breath; "well, 'tis not half what he deserves. The Virgin save me, but this is a heavy day for me-a heavy day. I have lost my wife's brother-but that's not so much loss either; but I learned of a dear sister wronged and foully murdered-the Holy Mother pray for her! my fosterson, Robin, in danger, for aught I know, for he ought to have been with me long since there's somewhat wrong, or he would. I have lost, or am likely to lose, my good old Lance, the faithful brute-but I have paid for his hurt; and there's a dear young lady, a guest, lost, violated, and probably murdered, by that limb of the foul-fiend; beshrew me, if 'twere not an unmanly part, I should like to have another half hour's drubbing at yonder cub's carcase, if 'twere only to put me in better spirits. There let him lie and rot, and his resting-place will be a roasting-place below: I wish I had the basting of him. Tut, tut, this is childish-wicked, for aught I know—but I cannot help it; I feel as I have never felt-I should like to do something devilish. If a wolf would but cross my path now!-pshaw! It will not do to think i'this fashion-I'll try what a prayer will do;" and he drew forth his rosary and commenced repeating it, as he walked slowly away, scarce knowing what direction to take. He had not gone far ere the outlaw raised his head and peered round; on perceiving that Gilbert had gone, he raised himself, and muttered thus." Muttering fearful oaths, the poor wretch dragged himself to a neighbouring thicket, there to rest for a short time, and then seek out some place where he could more securely secrete himself. Gilbert pursued his way with a heavy heart; he feared, having been unable to extract aught from the outlaw concerning Marian, that the worst had be fallen her. He knew that the fellow was in some way concerned with her fate, by the look of intelligence and the horrid laugh he gave when he had been questioned respecting her. Gilbert also felt satisfied that Lance had given the wound the fellow bore on the side of his head; these were all proofs that she had been in the wretch's power, and in that event what had become of her? He wandered on, scarce even knowing what he was doing, much less whither he was going, when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and voices rise on the air; grasping his staff firmly, he quickened his step to meet the comers, be they who or what they might; he hoped that they were foes; he fully hoped that they were people with whom he could quarrel; it would go far to satisfy him to beat somebody else, even if he got soundly thrashed himself; but such an event, however desired, was not this time to gratify him, and he recognised the voice of young Will Gamwell, chaunting a ballad, which Robin had taught him, and which he (Gilbert) had taught Robin. The echoes of the old wood were waked up by the following plaintive words : In a sweet little spot, all in a green dell, Of her charms (and fondly we call her "our belle,") E'en as I Woe, woe, for my heart! Half so blue, Her eyes, like clear skies, are the pearliest blue, Her skin is so clear, and her lips are so red, Like the vine round the oak, such sweetness it shed, It was with a feeling somewhat approaching to vexation that Gilbert heard the voice, more loud than musical, ring in the quiet air; he was in no humour to meet friends; he knew one of the comers was Will Gamwell, a friend of Robin's. He seemed all of a sudden to take a dislike to him, with his rude ruddy "I wasn't fool enough to let you beat me insensible, face, which had the hue of health so forcibly and vi you forest-keeping slave! and if you have kept your sibly stamped upon it, that he had already, united promise of shewing me what sore bones are, I'll be with his very red hair, attained the cognomen of revenged on you yet for it, deeply and unappeasably. WILL SCARLET.+ "Hang his red visage, what does He thinks the girl has fallen my victim; he can'the mean by shouting that little sad ditty in such know otherwise for some time yet, if he knows it at all, for she was carried in the direction of Gamwell, that's some consolation; I'll try a better soon, when I'm able to move about a bit; we will see how he will like a lighted torch in his cottage thatch. To-morrow I shall be as stiff as a rusted lock. Ah! oh! how my bones ache! the fiends of hell catch him and roast his marrow slowly out of his bones, for thrashing me boisterous terms; a plague on him! why does he not +William Seadlock, Scarlock, Scathelocke, or Scarlet. This hero has also had the benefit of several names approaching the one by which he is so well known In Skelton's "Downfall of Robert, Earl of Huntington," he introduces Scarlet and Scathlocke as the widow's sons, the latter being the elder brother, both of one mother, but of different fathers. Ben Jonson, in an unfinished pastoral, introduces these two personages also, but was probably misled by the old play of "Robin Hood." There is no doubt that, whatever the variation of name, but one person is intended. Although Will Scarlet appears to have been the constant companion of Robin Hood, his skill and position is undoubtedly second to that of Little John. sing it like Robin, softly and gently ?-but he was a rude cur ever. It is not that I made the ballad and taught Rob how to sing it, but the scarlet dog, the crimson-skinned cub, need'nt-foh! shame on me! it well becomes me to rail thus at an honest lad, whose only failing is his roughness; I am changing, indeed, to do this. Ho! Master Gamwell! what ho! Will Gamwell! how is't that you're abroad in the wood so late ?" "Ho, yoho, hillioh!" returned the young gentleman, making the wood re-echo with the strength of his lungs; "who knows Will Gamwell, e'er he claps a blue, a brown, a grey, or it may be a green eye on him, eh? answer me that, good man and true, if you be ?" "He who has once heard Willy Scarlet sing will never forget it," returned Gilbert, with a deal of truth; "it needs no near approach, daylight, torchlight, or moonlight, to tell who sings, when Will Gamwell lifts up his voice and chaunts-it is not possible!" "Ho, ho, ho!" laughed a deep rich voice, but not Will Gamwell's. "Approach, and let us see thy make, good stranger," cried Will, with some asperity, for he felt the satirical vein in Gilbert's speech, "let us see who and what thou art, sir stranger knave; perhaps my staff may teach thy wit a touch of politeness." "Or he may teach thee how a broken crown tastes, Will," said little John, for 'twas he who laughed; "can'st thou not hear-it is Gilbert Hood who speaks ?" 66 "Oh!” cried Will, and ran forward to meet him; 'news, Gilbert Hood!" he shouted; good news, man; we have the lady-we've got the lady safely and snugly; Barby and Winny have her in their care; she's at the hall; Little John found her in the forest; she was running from an outlaw; all right, hurrah! Gilbert, where's Robin? which way? anywhere near? he's out in the wood on the search. Ho, hillioh! Robin Hood, oh! Ho, Robin "Though 'tis merry to shoot in the bonny green wood, With the deer in the glade, and thy yew bow so good; Yet leave them for me, love-my own dear Robin Hood. Sing lily oh, hey! oh hey, sing lily !” .. "Peace, peace," cried Gilbert; "you may spare your lungs their labour. Robin left with two friends, for Nottingham, this morning; he has not since returned, and I am rather uneasy at his absence." "I wish I'd been with him," cried Will! "oh, I wish I'd been with him. Why did he not come over for me? I long to go to Nottingham again— "Oh, have you ever been unto Nottingham's fair town, There are sights to knock you up, and ale to knock you down; There the proud old baron's castle stands, frowning on the hill, And dungeons dreary, with ugly jaws enough to make you ill. With a hey ho, hey ho, derry down, hey ho! "You don't expect Robin back to-night? he'll do as I'd do, if I could, stop a week; rare doings there, I promise you, Gilbert Hood." "You look pale," said Little John to Gilbert Hood, kindly; "is it the moonlight only, or some great anxiety pressing on your mind? Don't think me inquisitive, but you look so haggard, so fagged, that I cannot help feeling as if I ought to ask you this question." There was so much sympathy and kindness in the tone of his voice, that Gilbert felt as if he could have burst into tears; he, however, shook it off, and replied of-of-no matter about that-I missed the young lady from my house. I followed, I found my best hound nearly killed-" "What, Lance ?" inquired Will, quickly. "Who did it ?" cried Will; "describe him to me, and if my father's seventh son, and that's me, ever comes across him with this staff, or any other, I'll play such a quick jig on his bones, as shall make him sing even quicker than he'll dance, and that won't be slow measure, I'd have you learn. What! kill old Lance! who has been out many a bright merrie morning with Robin and I? If he was my own brother, I'd never forgive him, until I'd beaten him to a mummy, and not then." "I have every reason to believe I have beaten him to a mummy," said Gilbert with a faint smile; "I met the rascal, and raised such a clatter about his ears—ear, I should say, for I'm mistaken if the hound has not taken one from him-that as long as he breathes he'll remember it; that is, if he ever breathes again, for I left him insensible." "Where! oh, tell me where! that I may have a look at him ?" cried Will; "that if ever he gets well, and I meet with him, I may have a bout with him, for old Lance's sake?" "Aye," said Little John, "lead us to the spot, and I will see if it is the same knave that I drove from that young timid girl to-night. I owe him a rap or two if ever he gets well, and I don't know if I shan't bind him, and give him a journey to Nottingham, and then, Will, perhaps you may go with me to see him safely in a certain strong dwelling there." 66 Beautiful, beautiful!" cried Will; "is it this way ?" and he proceeded to drag Gilbert along. They proceeded towards the spot where Gilbert had left the fellow lying, and Will Scarlet took care that the pace should not be a slow one. However, when they reached there he was gone; no vestige of a human being was there. "He has given us the slip," cried Will; "never mind, I shall know the spot again, for this is the very place where I have so often met Robin-the old oak and beech tree." "What!" exclaimed Gilbert, with a sudden start, "aye? so it is!" he continued, looking up; "this, then, is the spot!" Aye," said Little John, "'tis a strange place, and I have heard foresters say that it is haunted by a female; one or two of our keepers swear they have seen her too; but no one knows any story about her; it is supposed that it was some lady murdered by outlaws.' Almighty Heaven! look there," suddenly cried figure of a female, a thin, pale, misty shadow it was Little John, pointing to the trunk of the tree. A franticly Gilbert fell on his knees, and stretched -a ghastly, ghostly thing-stood looking on them; forth his clenched hands, almost shrieking, "Annie, dear Annie, my murdered sister-speak-tell me what would you ?" the earth on which she stood, and then became The figure smiled faintly, but kindly; pointed to fainter and dimmer, until she passed away, as the "I feel the kindness of your question, John, andmist passes from the earth, leaving no form or thank you sincerely for it. I do feel in bad spirits, my wife's brother died at my house to-day. I heard substance to tell what had been there. Gilbert fell on his face fainting, and Little John and Will Gamwell fearfully ghastly, and the blood trickling from his wound across his cheek, looked red to brightness; his eyes flashed and gleamed in a most unearthly manner, and he looked round him, shudderingly, evidently quite deranged. He, too, had seen the mysterious appearance, and the effect upon him had been tremendous. He raised himself to his feet, and said, wildly Little John had told him he had seen a matter not to be treated lightly: however he could not rest under a feeling as if he was having a hole pierced through his heart with an instrument of ice, that being the sensation which the glance of Gilbert produced. He saw that even his sturdy cousin glanced misgivingly upon the old man, and at length being inwardly assured that it was beyond a possibility for human nature to sustain longer the gaze of that cold grey eye, he determined to break the silence, and said suddenly and abruptly, "How is it with thee, Gilbert? Art better, man? you look scared. I say, Little John, how he stares, don't he ?" "Why do you glare on me?-it was not I that did the deed-'twas not I!-for mercy's sake take your eyes off me!-do you not see their looks pass through my heart like swords of fire? I did you no wrong'twas Kitson. I only made your marriage a mockery, by acting as the priest. Mercy! Oh, God! those fixed glazed eyes, they turn me to stone-ice-ice. But now I was fire-raging fire, and now I am cold- { stone-cold. Why do you glare so piteously? Have mercy, mercy!" he shrieked, and covered his eyes with his hands, while his whole frame shivered in-shoulder, "there's nobody else I mean-I don't tensely. Suddenly he raised them, and glanced think there is." hastily round, shudderingly, then started forward as if to escape, but his frame, quite exhausted, could bear no more, and he fell heavily insensible to the ground. "Come, Gilbert, man," said Little John, patting him kindly upon the shoulder, "look about thee, arouse thee! there are none here but I and Will Scarlet." "No," uttered Will, with an anxious look over his "Then it was a dream-a waking dream," said Gilbert, speaking for the first time, in low husky tones; "but, how awful!" He shuddered as he uttered this, and looked rapidly round. Will instinct"How strange!" muttered Will, whose mind wasively following his example, at the same time exof that comfortably obtuse nature, that though it claiming :might for a time be startled by any strange out-ofthe-way occurrence, was never deeply affected; "how strange," he added. "Was that a ghost, Little John ?" He received no answer. "Whatever it was it quickly unearthed that old fox, eh?" and he slightly laughed. Little John turned quickly round, and said, sternly, "Silence! William Gamwell; what we have this night witnessed is no matter to treat lightly, or to be spoken of with the jesting tongue of a foolish boy. Silence!" Will, thus rebuked, hung his head abashed, but speedily recovered himself, and assisted his cousin to raise Gilbert, who lay without life or motion. "We must leave that poor wretch there," said Little John, in a smothered tone of voice, "until we have borne Gilbert to his cottage. Come, Will, we must carry the old man tenderly and gently." "I'll do my best," said Will; and the two proceeded with the old man slowly through the forest, the pale moon showing them their way. As they neared the cottage, a long melancholy howl rose on the air; they both shuddered as they heard it. "That was old Lance," said Will, in a low voice. "And death is in the neighbourhood," uttered Little John, in a similar tone. By the time they reached the cottage-door, a faint sigh escaped from Gilbert's lips, evidencing returning animation. They stopped, and placed his feet to the ground, at the same time raising him to an upright position. He opened his eyes, and stared wildly round him, as if in expectation of seeing some object, the sight of which would wither him. After taking the whole circuit in their glance, without witnessing aught, save the trees and forest things looking grey in the broad moonlight, another sigh heaved his breast, but it was one of relief; he looked for a moment steadfastly at Little John, and then bent his gaze upon Will, without uttering a word; there was something in the expression of his eye which Will did not exactly like; it was staring, even to a glare. The lad looked at the sky and at Gilbert, then at the trees, returning his glance to Gilbert, and still found the old man's eye, vividly bright, fixed upon his face; he thought he'd laugh, but the mirth died on his lip ere the sound could leave it; he could not even smile beneath such a glance; besides he recollected that "It was no dream, though, Gilbert, I'll gage my quiver of my best arrows against a headless shaft: unless it be that four people may have the same dream at the same time, with their eyes open, and then-" "Will, Will, curb that tongue of thine," uttered Little John, hastily; "it wags with more speed than wisdom. Now, Gilbert, this is thy cottage, enter; a little spirit or strong ale will cheer thee; the forest damps have chilled thee, come!" At this moment the long wild howl of a hound made the forest echo with its dreary sound. All three started on hearing it; Gilbert shuddered violently; a deep groan burst from his quivering lips, and he buried his face in his hands. His whole frame shook with an excess of emotion. At length it passed away, and he threw up his head with an effort of determination: there was no moisture in his eyes, they were quite dry, and yet the cousins knew he had wept, for they had seen the big tears find their way between his fingers while they had encompassed his features. He spoke, and his voice was as clear and calm as though he had not been under the influence of an intense excitement. "Friends,” he exclaimed, "you have with me witnessed a vision, to you incomprehensible, to me a startling and fearful evidence, a corroboration of a frightful history, connected with one near and most dear to me. I cannot explain my meaning to you now; some other time will suffice. I have now a favour to ask of you, if the fear of a repetition of what you have seen will not fright you, and you are not cowed to gaze on the face of the dead. I would ask you to assist me now and at once to bury the body of my wife's brother-dead to day-beneath the roots of that tree which showed you the spirit of my--a lost angel." Here his voice faltered for a moment, but by a strong exertion he mastered it, and continued; "He lies in my cottage. A worthy priest, now beneath my roof, hath prayed over and for him, hath done all our holy religion commands; it was his dying wish that he should be laid beneath that tree; from what we have seen, it is also the wish of another. I passed my word that it should be done, and, if alone I bear the body, and alone dig the grave— "Say no more, good Gilbert," said Little John; so far as my help may serve, and that of this lad, |