occurrence, though evidently annoyed by it,
the old forester led his granddaughter towards the stand, where he was
cordially greeted by the keepers, most of whom, while expressing their
pleasure at seeing him, strove to render themselves agreeable in the
eyes of Mabel.

From this scene Morgan Fenwolf kept aloof, and remained leaning against
a tree, with his eyes riveted upon the damsel. He was roused from his
reverie by a slight tap upon the shoulder; and turning at the touch,
beheld Valentine Hagthorne. Obedient to a sign from the latter, he
followed him amongst the trees, and they both plunged into a dell.

An hour or two after this, when the sun was higher in the heavens, and
the dew dried upon the greensward, the king and a large company of lords
and ladies rode forth from the upper gate of the castle, and taking
their way along the great avenue, struck off on the right when about
half-way up it, and shaped their course towards the haye.

A goodly sight it was to see this gallant company riding beneath the
trees; and pleasant was it, also, to listen to the blithe sound of
their voices, amid which Anne Boleyn's musical laugh could be plainly
distinguished. Henry was attended by his customary band of archers and
yeomen of the guard, and by the Duke of Shoreditch and his followers. On
reaching the haye, the king dismounted, and assisting the Lady Anne from
her steed, ascended the stand with her.

He then took a small and beautifully fashioned bow from an attendant,
and stringing it, presented it to her.

"I trust this will not prove too strong for your fair hands," he said.

"I will make shift to draw it," replied Anne, raising the bow, and
gracefully pulling the string. "Would I could wound your majesty as
surely as I shall hit the first roe that passes."

"That were a needless labour," rejoined Henry, "seeing that you have
already stricken me to the heart. You should cure the wound you have
already made, sweetheart-not inflict a new one."

At this juncture the chief verderer, mounted on a powerful steed, and
followed by two keepers, each holding a couple of stag-hounds in leash,
rode up to the royal stand, and placing his horn to his lips, blew three
long mootes from it. At the same moment part of the network of the haye
was lifted up, and a roebuck set free.

By the management of the keepers, the animal was driven past the royal
stand; and Anne Boleyn, who had drawn an arrow nearly to the head, let
it fly