“If I were to meet him, and he offered me my heart's dearest wish, I fear he would prevail with me,” observed the duke, glancing tenderly at the Fair Geraldine.
“Tush!—the subject is too serious for jesting, Richmond,” said Surrey almost sternly.
“His grace, as is usual in compacts with the fiend, might have reason to rue his bargain,” observed Lady Mary Howard peevishly.
“If the Earl of Surrey were my brother,” remarked the Fair Geraldine to the Lady Mary, “I would interdict him from roaming in the park after nightfall.”
“He is very wilful,” said Lady Mary, smiling, “and holds my commands but lightly.”
“Let the Fair Geraldine lay hers upon me, and she shall not have to reproach me with disobedience,” rejoined the earl.
“I must interpose to prevent their utterance,” cried Richmond, with a somewhat jealous look at his friend, “for I have determined to know more of this mystery, and shall require the earl's assistance to unravel it. I think I remember Morgan Fenwolf, the keeper, and will send for him to the castle, and question him. But in any case, I and Surrey will visit Herne's Oak to-night.”
The remonstrances of both ladies were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Will Sommers.
“What ho! my lords—to your places! to your places!” cried the jester, in a shrill angry voice. “See ye not we are close upon Datchet Bridge? Ye can converse with these fair dames at a more fitting season; but it is the king's pleasure that the cavalcade should make a goodly show. To your places, I say!”
Laughing at the jester's peremptory injunction, the two young nobles nevertheless obeyed it, and, bending almost to the saddle-bow to the ladies, resumed their posts.