“Going!—and so soon!” muttered her lover, abstractedly, “why dearest, why did you not tell me of this before?”
“It was but this morning that I heard of it. Alas! that we should part so soon.”
“But how know you, sweet one, that we must part?” said her lover half smilingly. It recalled to Margaret’s mind her determination to learn her lover’s history.
“Why,” said she, “are you not a mere,” and her voice faltered, “a mere soldier of fortune, perhaps—,” and again she faltered and looked down, “an outlaw? Can you follow me? Oh! would you could,” and the unhappy maiden burst into tears.
“And why not, dear Margaret? Have not good men and true, at times, been driven to the greenwood for a temporary livelihood. Know you not how the good Earl of Huntingdon long kept wassail under the trees of old Sherwood with his ‘merrie men?’ ”
“Oh! then say you are like him—say you are not an outlaw! Did you but know how my heart reproves me for all this—how I weep to think that my father will never forgive me—and how my only consolation is in your love—did you know all this, you would keep me in suspense no longer!”
Her lover was deeply moved by her passionate entreaties, and pressing her to his bosom, kissed the tears from her cheek, and soothed her agitation by those words of kind endearment which are so eloquent when coming from one we love. He seemed too about to speak; but if so, he was prevented by a sudden baying of hounds, mingled with loud and approaching shouts, and directly a couple of dogs, followed by three keepers dashed out of the neighboring copse. Margaret, terrified and agitated, hastily followed whither her lover pointed, and retreated into the shadow of a cluster of oaks, followed by Ruth. She had scarcely done so unperceived, when the keepers rushed upon her lover, shouting,
“Down with him—the outlaw—down with him.”
Frightened almost out of consciousness, she could only see that her lover attempted what resistance he could, and that after a short but fierce contest he was overpowered, almost unarmed as he was, and borne to the ground. With all a woman’s devotion she rushed forward to his protection. But she had scarcely made a step, before she staggered and fainted. Ruth, too, was so alarmed as to be of little service; yet while, with trembling hands, she assisted to recover her mistress, so fearful was she of being discovered, that she would scarcely suffer herself to breathe.
“Oh! Ruth,” were the first audible words of her mistress “what have they done with him? Are they gone? Why did you not try to save him?”