Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 125 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

“IT hope the trout may not be OROEIONB« he satd, in an apologetic tone; ‘‘for your worship hath. stayed a little beyond your time, and the cook could not take them out of the frying-pan. ‘“Twould be a thousand pie if they were, for finer fish never came out of the arent.”’ He would have run on in this strain, had not Chaucer cut him short; and when the trout were placed, before the poet, he pronounced them excellent. “ Never did I taste better fish,’’ he said, as he swal- lowed a deep draught of the Gascoigne vintage. Having begun thus satisfactorily, he continued his re- past with deliberation. The room, a8 we haye said, was well-nigh filled with guests, some of whom were supping, while others were quaffing Gaillac or Osey out of tall drinking-cups. But there was more company outside than within the room. The benches in front of the window at which Chaucer was seated were occupied by villagers, who had been enjoying the eporse on the gen ane were now in- dulging in copious draughts of ale and metheglin, Large ons of these beverages were set on the jong narrow tables before them, and were speedily emptied, and as speedily replenished. The revelry was somewhat noisy, but it was quite ood-humored. The minstrels, who had played at the ay-pole, were among the Com pADy enlivening them with their strains, now and then with asong. Chaucer very much enjoyed the scene, and the up- roarious merriment that occasionally arose did not in the slightest degree disturb him. But he did experience some annoyance from an ill- favored fellow, with red locks, and an unpleasant ex- pression of countenance, whose eye was constantly upon him. On inquiring who this individual was from the host, he learnt that he was Shaxton, the tax-collector, To return to the guests in the room. Am them, at the next table to Chaucer, sat Messer Benedetto; and as the Lombard merchant and the poet were pasvionsly acquainted, a good deal of conversation naturally too place between them. But their discourse was on general topics. Messer Benedetto made no allusion to the object of his visit to Dartford; nor did Chaucer meation what had brought him thither. Even when the host spoke of Shaxton, Messer Bene- detto did not care to own that the impudent tax-collect- or was in his employ. Later on, however, when Wat Tyler made his appear- ance, the Lombard ant turned away, and an to talk to those on his other side. The burly smith did not enter the room, but station- ed himself near.the window; and thus placed, he could corms freely with the poet as if he had been in- _, Shaxton made another attempt to listen to their dis- course, but Wat's angry looks soon drove him away. It had already dusk, when some excitement was caused by the arrival of three well-mounted travel- ers, who came from the direction of Rochester. _ They. veined in their palfreya when they reached the inn, and ae into the doorway in quest of an atten- dant to their orders _ 80 mufiled up were those persons in their hoods, and so envelcped in their mantles, that little could be dis- of feature or figure; but they seemed young, and certainly, from the haughtiness of their ~ Rite please yon 2" ~— » % t be presumed to be noble, we 4 ey d aio the host went out ~ wr. ee er ee tones lcheina.deamonck aan b quite full ..».* We-do not uire a lodging ” replied one of them, who appeared to-be tho chief of the party, ix a haughty ne. “We fF mee ogee en ete Pave ns you oan ‘have, and of t no rs,” re- k. ‘Gascoigne or Rhenish, Gaillac or Osey. orseman, however, declined; but bade him ' flagon, ine, . . tay | pl er ee Fe arty. find a smith? -My horse hath cast agh ie Wheee one da, . orse hath cast ashoe.”..,_ - 4. The smith can be readily found, for he is here at ock. ‘ But I cannot answer ’ replied Bald ine he will do the job—'tis somewhat late, aud he may f c ¢ . . ty ate will a ecg A , treble. I would not pare ned lamed for a dred crowns,”’ cried Ce) “| will tell him what you say,” replied the host, Pane Pe returned, with a large flagon.of wine and sf 4 "ylon, the smith, will attend you anon, noble ti sii filling the cup, and offering it to the one a) ue ook to be the.chief of the party. ‘ the oto ho smith could be seen making his way to- wt thie RE te dest ona rmation, two of the y turned away ‘idfere Loran’ aes: while the iubrashal tome to . is Sheth wants a shoe, I understand? ”’ said Wat. Tar.’ Am | theo ry “ Name thy fee.”’ ; “A t War avey , and three groats for the shoe,’’ replied Wat. “My smithy is close at hand; Ishall be ready by the time you have drunk a cup of wine.” So saying, he strode off. _ CHAPTER XVIIL THE SMITH AT THE SMITHY. at the smithy; Wat.threw open the door, ves i 2 angele of hood has pamoek and pulling : sleeves of his jorkin, the bellows with a us , and soon blew np flame in the forge. of his men were there, but he did not ,need | i MERRY ENGLAND. their aid, and in a few minutes the glowing iron was | gift. In proof whereof, I mow deliver to thee this cas- ringing on the anvil. By t had commanded his services would have appeared; but, seeing nothing of him, he paused in his task to lis- en No sound was heard, except the distant shouts and laughter of the revellers at the hostel. He did not, however, doubt for a moment that the nobleman would come, and controlled his impatience as well as he could. But five minutes more elapsed, and he then resolved to wait no longer. “TI will not shoe his horse nowif he will give me a golden mark for the job,” he muttered, “ These nobles think thata base mechanic must needs bide their pleas- ure, but this springal, shall find his mistake—pest on them all!’’ With this, he quenched the iron he: had heated, re- sumed his hood and surcoat, and prepared to shut up the smithy. The moon had now risen above the trees near the priory, and, by the light her beams afforded, he could plainly perceive a small party of horsemen galloping towards him across the broad, green area. At first he fancied these must be the young nobles he had expected, but he quickly changed his opinion. As the party drew nearer, he could not doubt, from their garb and accoutrements, that they were the out- law and some of his band. He had scarcely recovered from the surprise into which he was thrown by their unexpected appearance, than they came up. “ What brings thee here to-night ?’’ he called out, in an angry voice, as Jack Straw reined in his black steed at the door of the smithy. ‘Say what thon hast to say, and begone. Many eyes are upon thee,” he added, pointing to the assemblage at the hostel. “ By St. Nicholas! thou should'st thank, not blame me, seeing that Ihave come to aid thee,” rejoined the outlaw. ‘ Where is thy daughter?” “My daughter! what of her?’ cried the smith, ‘Ah! my mind imisyives me!” “Isshe safe within thy dwelling?’ demanded the outlaw. “She is gone with her mother to the hermitage, in the wood,” replied Wat, trembling with anxiety. “Fool that I was to allow her to go there at such an hour, but I dreamed of no peril.” “Answer me one more question,” said the outlaw. ¢ <4 there been a young noble here. with two attend- ants ?’’ ‘‘He came to the inn not half an hour ago, and he, apf those with him, have since disappeared,” replied at. “TI know where they are gone,” said the outlaw. “This daring noble means to carry off thy daughter, but I trust Iam in time to rescue her, Thon art the dupe of a clever pee TP Wat, which might haye succeeded had I not chanced to hear of it.” “IT seeit all now!” cried the smith, almost frenzied with rage and anxiety. “That false hermit! but he shall pay dearly for his treachery! Tarry not another instant! To the rescue !—to the rescue!” The outlaw did not require more urging, but dashed off with his followers to the wood, CHAPTER XIX. THE HERMITAGE. ; Epvrraa and her mother set out for the hermitage without the slightest misgiving. They could entertain no suspicion of Friar Gawin, who was well known to them, and who bore a high rep- utation for sanctity. Nor were they at all alarmed b the idea of a walk at so late an hour throtigh the wood, Familiar with the path that led to the cell, they could track it as readily in the gloom asin broad daylight, and had no fear whatever of molestation. _ The walk through the wood proved delightful, as they had anticipated, and before they reached their destina- tion the moon had risen, and showed them the hermit’s solitary abode, situated in the midst of a clearing, With the moonbeams shining apron it, the hermitage looked the picture ofseclusion and peace. It was voth- ing more than a hut, rudely constructed by the re- use’s own hand, with timber he himself had felled on the spot, The roof was thatched and overgrown with moss. Near: the door was placed a crucifix, composed of pieces of a pine tree nailed together. tm Not far from the cell there was a clear, gushin spring, which was of great benefit to the anchorite, an siege probably determined him in the choice of the spot. ., He was standing at the door of his cell when the pair arrived, and came forth to givethem his benediction, after which he took them inside, A taper lighted up the little apartment into which they were ushered. The furniture consisted of a rude- iy Babloned table, on which stood an hour-glass, and three or four stools of equally rough workmansbip. In one corner was asmall crucifix, andin an inner roora was the pallet on which the anchorite stretched his limbs. ; Bidding his visitors be seated, the hermit took a small casket from his gown, placed it on the table, and thus addressed Editha; “TI have a singular circumstance to relate to you, daughter,” he said. “This evening, while 1 was recit- ing the Credo, there came a m er to my cell, and. opening the door, said to me, ‘ Arise, holy father! Go to the smith’s daughter, Editha, and her come to thy cell an hour after sunset.’ this ?’ Idemanded,in surprise. ‘Thou art 4 stranger to me, and may’st havesome eyil design. I will not bear thy m eto the damsel.’ ‘ Dismiss thy fears,’ said the man. ‘No ill will befall her. On the contrary she will receive a ~« Wherefore should I do | be et; which Icharge thee to place in her own hands.’ is time he expected that the young noble who | ‘But why make so much mystery ?” T rejoined, hesitat- ing to take the casket. Why not deliver it to her thy- self?’ ‘I do mine errand,’ replied the man; ‘ andifthe noble lady from whom I come chooses to act thus, ‘tis not for me to disobey her, Iam a servant, and must do as Tam bidden.’ ‘Since thou com'st from a lady, that alters the case,” I said. ‘But may I not know her name?’ ‘I am enjoined to secrecy,’ said the man; ‘but thon shalt learn her name hereafter.’”’ “You shall learn it now, good father,” cried Editha, who had listened with great interest to the narration. “ "Ts the Princess of Wales! None but her Grace could have sent me this rich gilt." “She has sent it in » rowndabout way,” observed Dame Tyler, who was not altogether free from suspi- ° Ping! ‘* Besides, she has already made you one pres- ent.” “ Here is the casket, daughter,” said the hermit, pre- senting it to the young damsel. ‘“ When I learnt that it came from a noble lady, I no longer hesitated; but took it, and promised to fulfil the messenger’s injunctions.”’ “Tcannot find words to express my obligations to you, holy father,” said Editha. “ But the casket is un- fastened. Let us see what it contains.” And as she spoke, she opened the little box, and took out a chain of pearls. “ Pearls!" she exclaimed, holding them up. “ Look, mother, how beautiful they are!’’ “ Beautiful, indeed!" cried Dame Tyler, gazing at them with admiration. “In good sooth, they are costly ornaments!” said the hermit, holding up the taper, s0 that he could see them better. “They are too costly for me!” said Editha, with a sigh. a Nay; you must needs wear them, since they have been sent you by the Princess,” remarked her mother. “But how know I she has sent them to me?” said the damsel. “ "Tis a mere guess. This chain puzzles me,”’ poe Keep it till you hear more about it,”’ said Dame yler. “I will k it till Ihave consulted the Lady Prior- ess,”’ observed Editha, replacing the pearls in the box. “Ay, the Prioress will give you counsel,” said Pr hermit. “But Isee not ‘why you should not wear em.” “Nor I,” rejoined Dame Tyler. “ Meantime, I will take care of the casket.” And she secured it in her pocket. sott A cha a tap at the little window of the cell started them all. CHAPTER. XX. SHOWING WHO SENT THE CARKET. i Houy Mary! what is that?’’ exclaimed the anchor- ite. He then called out, in a yoice loud esongh fo be heard by the person outside, ‘Who wants the hermit of the wood? I open not my door to a stranger!” “Tis the messenger who brought the casket this e’en,” replied a voice. ‘‘ Hath the sel any message for me to my noble a “ * Thou mayst enter,” said the hermit, unbarring the oor. {ites let the damsel come forth to mé,” rejoined e man. ioe “ate cites a no apprehension, Editha complied with the request. But as.she issued forth, and looked about for the mes- senger, she perceived two or three mounted figures, y concealed by the trees, and would have tly retreated, had not astrong arm seized her, despite her cries, ged her off. ey In another instant, a scarf was twined tightly round her arms, so as to prevent any struggles. ss Thus bound, she was from the Favor and placed in front of a horseman, who seem be the chief of the party. : Alarmed by her outeries, the hermit her mother would have come to her assistance, had they not been prevented by an armed man, who planted himself at the door of the cell. ar man, whose arm was round her waist as he sustained her in front of his saddle. “Release you ?—not I!” he rejoined, in an exulting yained to part with you. I told you this morn you should be mine, and I have kept my word.” “Ah! itis he!” she cried, recoiling from him as far as possible, but he held her fast, “You are completely in my power, damsel,” he said. joe sather, will hear my cries, and deliver me,” she ned. “Count not apap your father’s aid, damsel,” Jaughed Sir John Holland, for it was he. “I have taken great care to preyent any interference on his part. The un- ng smith is at work at his forge, 4 plin has been well contrived and well executed. Ha, hat’’ ‘Heaven will defeat your wicked design, I nothing doubt !"’ she returned. et And she renewed .her outcries, coping Spee St. Ursu- la, St. DEACDA St. Julia, and all saints who succor dis- tressed damsels, to protect her. Paying no attention to her cries, and believing they were unheard, except by those who could render no assistance, Sir John speeded along the narrow road through the wood, intending to turn off as soon as he came to an opening he had noted on the right. — Somewhat in advance rode Sir Osbert Montacute, while — came two well-mounted and well-armed attend- an On a sudden Sir Osbert stopped, and after listeni ng for. moment, rode quickly back to his foador an Bald ; . GOMIIcdoOoks (E(©)