.

The Fair Geraldine, he was informed, had been sent to the royal palace
at Greenwich; but her absence occasioned him little disquietude, because
he knew, if she had remained at Windsor, he would not have been allowed
to see her.

On the same day that Surrey was removed to the Norman Tower, the Duke
of Richmond quitted the castle without assigning any motive for his
departure, or even taking leave of his friend. At first some jealous
mistrust that he might be gone to renew his suit to the Fair
Geraldine troubled the earl; but he strongly combated the feeling, as
calculated, if indulged, to destroy his tranquillity; and by fixing
his thoughts sedulously on other subjects, he speedily succeeded in
overcoming it.

On that night, while occupied in a translation of the Aeneid which he
had commenced, he remained at his task till a late hour. The midnight
bell had tolled, when, looking up, he was startled by perceiving a tall
figure standing silent and motionless beside him.

Independently of the difficulty of accounting for its presence, the
appearance of the figure was in itself sufficiently appalling. It was
above the ordinary stature, and was enveloped in a long black cloak,
while a tall, conical black cap, which added to its height, and
increased the hideousness of its features, covered its head.

For a few minutes Surrey remained gazing at the figure in mute
astonishment, during which it maintained the same motionless posture. At
length he was able to murmur forth the interrogation, "Who art thou?"

"A friend," replied the figure, in a sepulchral tone.

"Are you a man or spirit?" demanded Surrey.

"It matters not--I am a friend," rejoined the figure.

"On what errand come you here?" asked Surrey.

"To serve you," replied the figure; "to liberate you. You shall go hence
with me, if you choose."

"On what condition?" rejoined Surrey.

"We will speak of that when we are out of the castle, and on the green
sod of the forest," returned the figure.

"You tempt in vain," cried Surrey. "I will not go with you. I recognise
in you the demon hunter Herne." The figure laughed hollowly--so hollowly
that Surrey's flesh crept upon his bones.

"You are right, lord of Surrey," he said; "I am Herne the Hunter. You
must join me. Sir Thomas Wyat is already one of my band."

"You lie, false fiend!" rejoined Surrey. "Sir Thomas Wyat is in France."

"It is you who lie, lord of Surrey," replied Herne; "Sir Thomas Wyat is
no