Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 98 — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

~ ——_ - . lho minstrel pees by the clattering wheel of the little mill at the entrance of the village, and gazed up at the castle. The fat, lazy-look- ing miller, a Tyrolese peasant of middle age, stood at the mill-door, sinenite staring at the stranger, when Allan-a-dale, in his best German, asked: ‘““ Whose castle is that, yonder, friend?” “That castle belongs to my master,” answer- ed the miller, sententiously. ‘‘ Who else should own it?” ‘So I suppose,” retorted the minstrel, with a smile; ‘ but that does not tell me whois your master.” “My master is Duke Leopold of Austria,” said Hans Dunderkopf, stolidly. ‘‘ Any fool knows that.” ‘“Well then, ’'m another fool that knows it,” the minstrel rejoined with a smile of good-hu- mor. “’Tisa handsome castle, but who needs it here? Thecountry is at peace. There are no robbers abroad,” Hans Dunderkopf grinned. Robbers! How covld robbers get into Duke Leopold of Austria’s kingdom?! He would eat them all up without salt.” ‘Then the castle is empty?’ said the minstrel inquiringly. “Who said it was empty? NotI. They keep it for a prison now, and it holds its captives well. They have a strange knight in there, a goodly man for size; but they keep him close as an oyster in its shell.” ‘‘Tfave you ever seen him?’ : ‘‘Oh yes, when he is let out to exercise, on pa- role of honor.” ‘‘ And what is he like?” ‘A tall, heavy man, with light curling hair and beard. He looks like a match for anything. They say the duke once tested him by setting a lion on him, and he unarmed; and that the stranger killed the beast with his bare hands and tore its heart from its smoking throat, all alone. Lsay not that it is true, but he is a good man to ‘pok at.” The minstrel’s voice trembled with eagerness. ‘Do you know his name?” ‘They never call him anything in our hear- ing, but ‘ your grace’.” . Allan-a-dale raised his eyes to heaven with a look of intense gratitude, as he murmured in hisnative English tongue: ‘**T have found thee at last, oh Richard, oh my king, I have found thee.” The miller stared at him in silence. He was not given to loquacity without a cause. Then the minstrel asked him: ‘Ts there not a governor to this castle?’ “Ta!” responded the stolid miller. ‘‘ What is his name?” ‘Count Rabenstein, Count Albrecht von Rab- enstein, in full. We call him just ‘ the count’.” ‘Ts the count fond of the gentle art?” The miller stared. ve ‘‘ Verstehe nicht,” he growled, as if suspicious he was being made a subject for spore. ‘“T mean, does he love minstr’ ‘Oh, ay—he isa minstrel himse:t. Allan-a-dale brightened up at once, bid fare- well to his stolid friend, and put bis stanch little pony to a trot ashe went up the causeway to the castle gate. The road wound to and fro, zigzagging up the steep ascent to avoid a grade too heavy for teams going tothe castle. In one place it en- tirely encircled the rock on which the fortress was perched, and passed directly under asquare tower, furthest from the entrance and used as the donjon or keep. As Allan-a-dale rode under this keep, he was not more than sixt feet away from the solitary window which the building showed on that side, and the minstrel involun- tarily drew rein and looked up at the window, as if he expected to see there the form of the cap- tive king. Almost at the moment he stopped, he heard the faint muffled notes of a harp like his own, and then adeep, powerful voice sung these words: F ‘* The swallow flies lome to the fair northern sum mer, The storks have forsaken the reeds of the Nile, The rose breathes a greeting, to hail the new- comer. Sweet summer! Fair summer! Dear summer! Flee not so fast, pretty swallow, the while I list to thy twitter, and bask in the smile Of the life-giving sun of sweet summer,” Then’ Allan-a-dale, who had been trembling all over with. excitement as he listened, struck the chords of his own harp and rung out the second stanza of the dear old song, that he re- membered so well as a favorite of the good King Richard: Robin Hood. —E $$ Il, ** Hie away, swallow, and whisper my love, ‘Twitter thy message so soft to her ear. Tell her that I, who have roamed the world over, Llove her! Tlove her! LI love her! Chains cannot bind me—my soul is not here, But away o’er the sea with my lady so dear, Who has tamed the wild heart of the rover.”’ Then once more the minstrel paused, trem- bling with new excitement, and listening in- tently. “If it be he,” he murmured, the tears trick- ling down his cheeks, ‘‘ he will answer me.” Bad truly the prisoner’s harp was heard once again, while the voice of the captive monarch answered with triumphant fervor in the third stanza: II. ‘Come again, swallow! Swiftly, oh, swallow! Bring me the message my heart waits to hear, Tell me my lady is ready to follow After thee, swallow—love breathing swallow, Tell me she comes in her love, void of fear, To comfort the captive, so far, yet so near, Who whispers his love by the swallow.” Allan-a-dale burst into a passion of weeping as ne sat beneath the castle walls, and ejacu- lated: ee ——e gio she seldom saw a woman, but joined the band in all their forayzes on the crvsl Norman barons, who lorded it over the neighbors and peasantry. Many and many a tall castle had been stormed py the desperate Se:xon yeomen, led by Robin {ood’s outlaws, and many a peasant had been made glad by the division of the noble’s wealth among the poor, that always followed the forages of the outlawed earl. Poor travelers might go through Sherwood unmolested, and honest merchants were welcomed in its recesses ; but the grasping and avaricious money-lender or lawyer, the vs oe judge on his way to hold assizes at Nottingham; these were set upon ane stripped clean, every time, no matter what the strength of their guards, if they ventured to stray within the precincts of Sherwood. The name of Robin Hood was echoe1 from coast to coast of the island; by the nobles and rich pre lates as the ‘‘ outlaw and robber;” but by the poor parish priest and all his flock as *‘ the peo- ple’s friend.” ‘Therefore it was that the news of | the archery meo:ing was brought to Sherwood by willing feet, as soon as it reached Notting- “It is my liege, my lord, my king! Praise | God for his mercies!” | ‘Who sings the songs that Richard once | loved?” demanded the deep voice of the captive king from the grated window above. ‘I can- not see down to thee, gentle minstrel, but me- seemeth I know thy voice.” ‘*My liege, it is Allan-a-dale, the companion of Blondel, and tny faithful servant,” cried the minstrel. ‘‘ We have sought thee far and near, my liege, and at last it is my happy, happy for- | 1 tune to find thee. do to save thee?’ ‘But one thing can be done,” replied the king’s voice above. ‘*Go find Blondel. He is better known at court than thou art, my faith- ful Allan. Tell him to fly to England and raise my ransom at once. This coward, Duke Leo- pold, took me, unarmed and unawares, and is amenable to no gentle laws of honor. He needs money; let him have it. But go thou, find Blon- del, and bring him hither.” ‘*T will, my liege,” cried Allan-a-dale, fully. ‘‘ He is even now on the road hither. Oh, my king! what shall we ham. ‘* And where is the danger, sweetheart?” asked the outlaw chief, of Maid Marian, as she uttered her warning. ‘‘The danger is of a trap for thee and me,” she answered. ‘‘This meeting is designed to catch us both; for the prince knows thy bold- ness, and wishes to entice thee to London, where he may slay thee or cast thee in prison, to part So saying, he wheeled his — and galloped | t off on the road he had traverse to find the more famous ministrel, to whose hat morning, | ' Scathelock, Much the Miller name the rescue of Richard is credited in his- | tory. Butit was in truth our own Allan-a-dale that found King Richard in prisor CHAPTER XVI. THE GOLDEN ARROW. LATE in that same summer, Prince John, re- gent of all England, proclaimed a grand archery | meeting on Hampstead Heath, to the north of the | great city of London, at which the prize for the best archer in the land was to bea golden ar- row, pointed with diamonds and feathered with rubies. The fame of this great meeting had spread over all England and) eached even to the recesses of Sherwood aed Barnesdaie forests, where the outlawed Earl of Huntington and his merry men had made themselves lovedand fear- ed throughout the length and breadth of the land, during the past year. The prince proclaimed that, for the three days us two. He knows well who isthe best archer in England.” ’ ‘*But he gives safe conduct to all,” urged Robin Hood; and three hours’ grace after sun- set, besides.” ** Who shall guard thee from being followed to the border of the sanctuary by a troop ol horse, and snapped up as soon as thou crossest the line?” ‘*Marry, sweetheart, my own wits,” he re- joined, lightly. ‘* All I ask of thee is to stay in Jarnesdale till I come again, and I will med nm safe with the arrow, and beard John before all his nobles.” ‘* That l would notdo for fifty golden arrows Robin. Lam thy wife in danger, thy true lov ing maid in safety; but thou and I must nov part. Whom takest thou with thee on thy jour- ney ¢ “Only my best men: Little John, Tuck, and George-a- Green. Would that our centle minstrel were here, for his head is the best in the band. Why tarries Allan-a-dale, I wonder?’ ? “That he may find the king, Robin. I tel thee he will not come back till he find him. Well, be itso. IL will go with thv chosen five, So shall we be seven good men and true, with Robin for leader. Vex me 1 ot by refusal, for I will go with thee.” And Maid Marian set her little white teeth firmly as she agen ina way that Robin Hood knew well indicated a determination he could not overcome. Karly the next day the little party started on their perilous journey to London, equipped as country merchants on a trading-trip. They were well provided with horseflesh, ‘hanes to their raids on the barons in the neighborhood. Robin had collected all the steeds of eastern blood that had been brought home by the that the games lasted, all competitors should be | crusading nobles at various times. These horses, safe from arrest in London, and for forty miles around it; and that any bowman who came to | low rank in the meeting should be given three hours’ grace after sunset of the day on which the contest closed, so that he might return safely home. When the news of this proclamation was brought to Robin Hood, he struck his hand on his thigh and swore by St. Hubert that he would bring back that golden arrow to Sher- wood, if it cost him his life. ‘** And an thou goest, Robin, it ma more than thy life,” answered Maid heard him, cost thee arian, who light and —— as they were, held but a ank furope in those days, when the favorite ideal of a war-steed,was a huge/animal of sixteen hands, weighing twelve or thirteen hundred, and capable of carrying a mail-clad rider in full panoply. The practical sense of the outlaw showed him that such animals were useless to him and his lightly armed followers, who needed speed more than weight to esca the shock of numbers. He had accordingly chosen the lighter horses wherever he found them. Each rider led bebind him a sober, steady They were in the midst of the band, scattered | pack-horse, on which his weapons were stowed | away under bales of merchandise, andso they among the green trees, as she said this. Marian had lived a strange life during that eventful year; one that seemed an impossibility for a gentle girl. In the midst of hunted, desperate outlaws, who hesitated not to slay on occasion, this young maiden had preserved not only the respect, but the absolute adoration of all the stalwart bowmen who shot the king’s deer—and their keepers too—on occasion. As Robin Hood had sworn on his wedding-day, a pure maiden she had remained, occupying a solitary hut in the midst of the forest in summer; in the winter retiring to the old Saxon abbey of Ely, where the sisters preserved her secret. In all this time, save when at the abbey, — i ! a — ———E jogged on to London, in the most peaceful guise then practiced. Many a lordly baron sneered at the lowly traders as they passed him on the road, but the disguised outlaws went quietly on their way till they reached the boundary of the land of safety, where they halted ata tavern kept by a secret friend of theirs, and changed their apparel, Thenceforward they went on foot to London, openly and undisguised, in their habits as archers. Only this change they made, that all dressed in scarlet velvet, with white hose: and each man bore on his buckler a moon and § of silver, : IOO <s) (E (E(0) com