So saying he wheeled round, and striking spurs into his steed, dashed through the trees, while the duke rode back to the castle.
Henry had not proceeded far, when a horseman, mounted on a sable steed, emerged from the thicket, and galloped up to him. The wild attire and antlered helm of this personage proclaimed the forest fiend.
“Ah! thou here, demon!” cried the king, his lion nature overmastered by superstitious fear for a moment. “What wouldst thou?”
“You are on the eve of committing a great crime,” replied Herne; “and I told you that at such times I would always appear to you.”
“To administer justice is not to commit crime,” rejoined the king. “Anne Boleyn deserves her fate.”
“Think not to impose on me as you have imposed on Suffolk!” cried Herne, with a derisive laugh. “I know your motives better; I know you have no proof of her guilt, and that in your heart of hearts you believe her innocent. But you destroy her because you would wed Jane Seymour! We shall meet again ere long—ho! ho! ho!”
And giving the rein to his steed, he disappeared among the trees.
VIII.
The Signal Gun.