“And he would have taken her hand; but she recoiled from horror.
“Though I now inspire you with terror and aversion,” pursued “the time will come when you will love me as passionately as I was beloved by one of whom you are the image.”
And she is dead? “asked Mabel, with curiosity.
“Dead!” exclaimed Herne. “Thrice fifty years have flown since she dwelt upon earth. The acorn which was shed in the forest has grown into a lusty oak, while trees at that time in their pride have fallen and decayed away. Dead!—yes, she has passed from all memory save mine, where she will ever dwell. Generations of men have gone down to the grave since her time—a succession of kings have lodged within the castle but I am still a denizen of the forest. For crimes I then committed I am doomed to wander within it, and I shall haunt it, unless released, till the crack of doom.”
“Liberate me!” cried Mabel; “liberate your other prisoner and we will pray for your release.”
“No more of this!” cried Herne fiercely. “If you would not call down instant and terrible punishment on your head—punishment that I cannot avert, and must inflict—you will mention nothing sacred in my hearing, and never allude to prayer, I am beyond the reach of salvation.”
“Oh, say not so!” cried Mabel, in a tone of commiseration. “I will tell you how my doom was accomplished,” rejoined Herne wildly. “To gain her of whom I have just spoken, and who was already vowed to Heaven, I invoked the powers of darkness. I proffered my soul to the Evil One if he would secure her to me, and the condition demanded by him was that I should become what I am—the fiend of the forest, with power to terrify and to tempt, and with other more fearful and fatal powers besides.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mabel.
“I grasped at the offer,” pursued Herne. “She I loved became mine. But she was speedily snatched from me by death, and since then I have known no human passion except hatred and revenge. I have dwelt in this forest, sometimes alone, sometimes at the head of a numerous band, but always exerting a baneful influence over mankind. At last, I saw the image of her I loved again appear before me, and the old passion was revived within my breast. Chance has thrown you in my way, and mine you shall be, Mabel.”
“I will die rather,” she replied, with a shudder.