a considerable distance behind them.

"And so you did not see him?" said the keeper, in a tone of exhaustion,
as he wiped the thick drops from his brow.

"I did not," replied Surrey.

"That is passing strange," rejoined the other. "I myself have seen him
before, but never as he appeared to-night."

"You are a keeper of the forest, I presume, friend?" said Surrey. "How
are you named?"

"I am called Morgan Fenwolf," replied the keeper; "and you?"

"I am the Earl of Surrey;' returned the young noble.

"What!" exclaimed Fenwolf, making a reverence, "the son to his grace of
Norfolk?"

The earl replied in the affirmative.

"Why, then, you must be the young nobleman whom I used to see so often
with the king's son, the Duke of Richmond, three or four years ago,
at the castle?" rejoined Fenwolf "You are altogether grown out of my
recollection."

"Not unlikely," returned the earl. "I have been at Oxford, and have only
just completed my studies. This is the first time I have been at Windsor
since the period you mention."

"I have heard that the Duke of Richmond was at Oxford likewise,"
observed Fenwolf.

"We were at Cardinal College together," replied Surrey. "But the duke's
term was completed before mine. He is my senior by three years."

"I suppose your lordship is returning to the castle?" said Fenwolf.

"No," replied Surrey. "My attendants are waiting for me at the Garter,
and if you will accompany me thither, I will bestow a cup of good ale
upon you to recruit you after the fright you have undergone."

Fenwolf signified his graceful acquiescence, and they walked on in
silence, for the earl could not help dwelling upon the vision he had
witnessed, and his companion appeared equally abstracted. In this sort
they descended the hill near Henry the Eighth's Gate, and entered Thames
Street.

II.

Of Bryan Bowntance, the Host of the Garter--Of the Duke of
Shoreditch--Of the Bold Words uttered by Mark Fytton, the
Butcher, and how he was cast into the Vault of the Curfew
Tower.

Turning off on the right, the earl and his companion continued to
descend the hill until they came in sight of the Garter--a snug little
hostel, situated immediately beneath the Curfew Tower.

Before the porch were grouped the earl's attendants, most of whom
had dismounted, and were holding their steeds by the bridles. At
this juncture the door of the hostel opened, and a fat jolly-looking
personage, with a