the lake, and
apparently descended to its abysses, for as soon as the duke could
muster courage to approach its brink, nothing could be seen of him, his
steed, or his hounds.

THUS ENDS THE FIRST BOOK OF THE CHRONICLE OF WINDSOR CASTLE

BOOK II. HERNE THE HUNTER

I.

Of the Compact between Sir Thomas Wyat and Herne the Hunter.

On the day after his secret interview with Anne Boleyn, Sir Thomas Wyat
received despatches from the king for the court of France.

"His majesty bade me tell you to make your preparations quickly, Sir
Thomas," said the messenger who delivered the despatches; "he cares not
how soon you set forth."

"The king's pleasure shall be obeyed," rejoined Wyat.

And the messenger retired.

Left alone, Wyat remained for some time in profound and melancholy
thought. Heaving a deep sigh, he then arose, and paced the chamber with
rapid strides.

"Yes, it is better thus," he ejaculated. "If I remain near her, I shall
do some desperate deed. Better--far better--I should go. And yet to
leave her with Henry--to know that he is ever near her--that he drinks
in the music of her voice, and basks in the sunshine of her smile--while
I am driven forth to darkness and despair--the thought is madness! I
will not obey the hateful mandate! I will stay and defy him!"

As he uttered aloud this wild and unguarded speech, the arras screening
the door was drawn aside, and gave admittance to Wolsey.

Wyat's gaze sunk before the penetrating glance fixed upon him by the
Cardinal.

"I did not come to play the eavesdropper, Sir Thomas," said Wolsey; "but
I have heard enough to place your life in my power. So you refuse to
obey the king's injunctions. You refuse to proceed to Paris. You refuse
to assist in bringing about the divorce, and prefer remaining here to
brave your sovereign, and avenge yourself upon a fickle mistress. Ha?"

Wyat returned no answer.

"If such be your purpose," pursued Wolsey, after a pause, during which
he intently scrutinised the knight's countenance, "I will assist you in
it. Be ruled by me, and you shall have a deep and full revenge."

"Say on," rejoined Wyat, his eyes blazing with infernal fire, and his
hand involuntarily clutching the handle of his dagger.

"If I read you aright," continued the cardinal, "you are arrived at that
pitch of desperation when life itself becomes indifferent, and when but
one object remains to be gained--"

"And that is vengeance!" int