Forest Days: A Romance of Old Times

by G. P. R. James

I recollect once visiting a house where the scenery around appeared tame and monotonous enough. The rooms were stately, fine pictures hung upon the walls, and many objects of art and interest lay scattered round, but still when one looked forth there was nothing beautiful before the eye, till suddenly, in a dark, dull chamber, in a remote part of the mansion, a servant drew back a blind from a small window, and one of the most magnificent scenes in nature burst instantly upon the view.

What it was that Lucy de Ashby said to Hugh de Monthermer I know not, but it drew back the veil from her heart and showed him a new world, such as he had never dreamt was near at hand. He had certainly not been without warm admiration of her beauty: he had felt its power, and somewhat dreaded its effects; but the master spell was now added, and the harmony between her person and her mind left him no power to resist. His whole manner towards her changed at once; admiration and regard were thenceforward in every look and in bright interchange of thoughts and feelings; and when Lucy laid her head down upon her pillow, her brain reeled with the memory of a thousand sweet sensations crowded into the short space of a few hours.

Her brother was absent--there is reason to believe purposely--and on the following day her father's horse fell in the chase and injured him, though not dangerously. It was Hugh who brought her the tidings, who soothed her apprehensions, who calmed and consoled her, and every hour added something to the intimacy that grew up between them. They rode forth in the woods together, they walked side by side upon the battlements; and, though the words of love that might be spoken, were all vague and shadowy, yet each understood the feelings of the other; and Hugh only waited till the friendship of their houses should be more confirmed, to demand the hand of Lucy as a new bond of union between their families.

The man who delays even for an hour in love is a fool, or has no experience. The latter was the case of Hugh de Monthermer. Had he asked for Lucy de Ashby then, the old Earl would have granted her to him at once; but in a few days Alured de Ashby returned, bringing his cousin Richard with him; and it soon became evident to the lover that the favourable moment was past for the time.

Such is the history of the affection which had grown up between Hugh and Lucy to the time when last they parted. Some months had intervened, and it may well be supposed that it was not a little soothing to the sweet girl's heart to mark that strain of tenderness which, as we have said, ran through the whole of Hugh de Monthermer's story. So pleasant was it, indeed, that for a short time the disappointment of her hopes of deliverance was forgotten in the gratification of other feelings. She paused and mused; but at length her mind reverted to the more painful consideration. She at once saw, when she reflected on all he had just told her, that Hugh was bound by his promise to the Outlaw to take no step whatever to set her free. He had sworn that all he beheld and heard there should be to him as if it were not; and Lucy herself had too much of the chivalrous spirit in her nature to wish that one she loved should ever evade, even were it possible, the sincere execution of an engagement he had formed. She looked in his face for a moment or two in silence, and in the end asked him simply, "What then do you intend to do?"

"Good faith, dear lady," he replied, "I see but one thing to be done, which is, as I cannot take you away with me, to stay here with you; and, if this terrible enchanter of Sherwood will not set you free, why we must spend our days here under the green leaves, chasing the wild deer, and singing the hours away."

Lucy smiled gaily, for the images were not unpleasant ones that Hugh de Monthermer's reply called up. She thought it would be a very happy life; and if those sad bonds of circumstances which continually tie down the noblest energies of the mind and the best, and strongest feelings of the heart had permitted it, she would willingly have cast off high rank and station, and all the gawds and gewgaws of society, to remain with Hugh de Monthermer in the forest of Sherwood and pass the rest of her days in low estate.

His reply threw her into a new fit of musing, however, and their farther conversation was interrupted, for the moment, by the pretty maid, Cicely, calling their attention to the supper, which was spread upon the table. The two lovers sat down side by side; Lucy's maidens took their seats opposite, and the meal passed over partly in gay, partly in serious conversation; but, between Lucy and Hugh, there was of course a degree of restraint from the presence of others, which was sufficiently evident to those who caused it.

There is a general sympathy in every woman's heart for love, but, of course, that sympathy is more active in the young, who feel, than in the old, who only remember the passion. With unchilled hearts ready to thrill at the first touch, Lucy de Ashby's two maids having so lately been enlightened fully in regard to their mistress's feelings for Hugh de Monthermer, were only anxious for an excuse to leave the lady and her lover alone; and not finding any ready to their hand, they dispensed with all pretexts whatever, first the one and then the other quitting the room, and betaking themselves to the sleeping-chamber which had been assigned to them and their lady.

There can be but little doubt that Lucy was well satisfied with their departure; but yet a sort of timid panic took possession of her, and she had well-nigh called them back. The next moment she smiled at her own fears, and would have given a great deal to renew the conversation, which had come to a sudden halt, upon some indifferent topic; but words were wanting, and Lucy sat with the colour a little heightened in her cheek, and the silky fringes of her soft dark eyes drooping so as to veil half their light.