The Woodman: A Romance of the Times of Richard III

by G. P. R. James

"She's down, she's down," cried the nun, in great alarm.

"Then light the beacon," cried the abbess. "That will give light enough to see when they come near. As soon as you perceive men marching in a band, like regular soldiers, ring the little bell to give the porter notice; and, after watching what they do for a minute or two, come and tell me. Be steady; be careful; and do not let fright scare away your wits."

The nun hurried to obey; and in a minute after, the loud and sonorous alarm bell of the abbey was heard, shaking the air far and wide over the forest, with its dull and sullen boom.

Having delivered her message to the porter, the poor nun, with her lamp in her hand, hurried up the numberless steps of the beacon tower, trembling in every limb, notwithstanding the courageous tone of her superior. Upon the thick stone roof at the top she found an immense pile of faggots, ready laid, and mingled with pitch, and, lying at some distance, a heap of fresh wood, to be cast on as occasion required, with a large jar of oil and an iron ladle, to increase the flame as it rose up.

Fortunately, the night was as calm as sleep, and not a breath of wind crossed the heavens; otherwise the lamp would assuredly have been blown out in the poor sister's trepidation and confusion. As it was, she had nearly let it fall into the midst of the pile, in the first attempt to light the beacon; but the next moment the thin dry twigs, which were placed beneath, caught the fire, crackled, nearly went out again; and then, with a quantity of dull smoke, the fire rushed up, licking the thicker wood above. The pitch ignited; the whole pile caught; and a tall column of flame, some sixteen or seventeen feet high, rose into the air, and cast a red and ominous light over the whole country round. The buildings on the little green became distinctly visible in a moment, the houses of the priests and choristers, the cottages of the peasants and the labourers; and running her eye along the valley beyond, in the direction of Coleshill, the lay sister saw, coming through the low ground, just under the verge of the wood, a dark mass, apparently of men on horseback, at the distance of less than half a mile. At the same time, however, she beheld a sight which gave her better hope. Not only from the cottages on the green were men issuing forth and hurrying to the great portal of the abbey, but, along the three roads which she could espy, she beheld eighteen or twenty figures, some on foot, but some on horseback, running or galloping at full speed. They were all separate and detached from each other; but the flame of the beacon flashed upon steel caps and corslets, and spear heads; and she easily judged that the tenants and vassals, warned beforehand and alarmed by the sound of the great bell, were hastening to do the military service they owed.

When she looked again in the direction of the mass she had seen on the Coleshill road, she perceived that the head of the troop had halted; and she judged rightly that, surprised by the sudden lighting of the beacon and tolling of the bell, the leaders were pausing to consult.

For a moment, a hope crossed her mind that they would be frightened at the state of preparation which they found, and desist; but the next instant the troop began to move on again; and remembering the orders which she had received, she rang a lesser bell which hung near the beacon, still keeping her eyes fixed upon the party advancing up the valley.

Steadily and cautiously they came on; were lost for a minute or two behind the houses the hamlet; then reappeared upon the little green; and, dividing into three troops, the one remained planted before the great gates, while the others, gliding between the cottages and the walls of the abbey, filed off to the right and left, with the evident purpose of surrounding the whole building, and guarding every outlet. The poor nun, however, fancied, on the contrary, that they were gone to seek some favourable point of attack; and murmuring to herself, "The Blessed Virgin have mercy upon us, and all the saints protect us! There will never be men enough to protect all the walls," she hurried down to make her report to her superior; but the abbess was not to be found.

CHAPTER IX.

In a small cell, of size and proportion exactly similar to those of the nuns, though somewhat differently arranged and decorated, lay a very beautiful girl sound asleep. A light coif of network confined, or strove to confine, the rich glossy curling hair; but still a long ringlet struggled away from those bonds, and fell over a neck as white as ivory. The eyes, the bright, beautiful, speaking eyes, the soul's interpreters, were closed, with the long sweeping black eyelashes resting on the cheek; but still the beautiful and delicate line of the features, in their quiet loveliness, offered as fair a picture as ever met mortal sight. Stretched beyond the bedclothes too, was the delicate hand and rounded arm, with the loop, which fastened the night-dress round the wrist, undone, and the white sleeve pushed back nearly to the elbow. One might have sworn it was the hand and arm of some marvellous statue, had it not been for the rosy tips of the delicate fingers, and one small blue vein through which the flood of young and happy life was rushing.