at the blasted oak. In vain
Surrey smote the tree. No answer was returned to the summons; and,
finding all efforts to evoke the demon fruitless, they quitted the
spot, and, turning their horses' heads to the right, slowly ascended the
hill-side.

Before they had gained the brow of the hill the faint blast of a horn
saluted their ears, apparently proceeding from the valley near the
lake. They instantly stopped and looked in that direction, but could
see nothing. Presently, however, the blast was repeated more loudly than
before, and, guided by the sound, they discerned the spectral huntsman
riding beneath the trees at some quarter of a mile's distance.

Striking spurs into their steeds, they instantly gave him chase; but
though he lured them on through thicket and over glade--now climbing
a hill, now plunging into a valley, until their steeds began to show
symptoms of exhaustion--they got no nearer to him; and at length, as
they drew near the Home Park, to which he had gradually led them, he
disappeared from view.

"I will take my station near the blasted oak," said Surrey, galloping
towards it: "the demon is sure to revisit his favourite tree before
cock-crowing."

"What is that?" cried the Earl of Surrey, pointing to a strange and
ghastly-looking object depending from the tree. "Some one has hanged
himself! It may be the caitiff, Morgan Fenwolf."

With one accord they dashed forward, and as they drew nearer the tree,
they perceived that the object that had attracted their attention was
the body of Mark Fytton, the butcher, which they had so recently seen
swinging from the summit of the Curfew Tower. It was now suspended from
an arm of the wizard oak.

A small scroll was stuck upon the breast of the corpse, and, taking it
off, Surrey read these words, traced in uncouth characters--"Mark Fytton
is now one of the band of Herne the Hunter."

"By my fay, this passes all comprehension," said Richmond, after a few
moments' silence. "This castle and forest seem under the sway of the
powers of darkness. Let us return. I have had enough of adventure for
to-night."

And he rode towards the castle, followed more slowly by the earl.

VII.

How the Earl of Surrey and the Fair Geraldine plighted their
troth in the Cloisters of Saint George's Chapel.

Barriers were erected on the following day in the upper ward of the
castle, and the Lady Anne and her dames assembled in the balcony in
front of the roy