The host of the Lucy Arms had an instinctive dread and a most unalterable dislike to the lawyer. He considered a visit from him little inferior in omen to that of a visit from the plague. He accordingly busied himself about some matter or other, and pretended not to observe Grasp.

"Not within?--eh, Host?" said the latter, making a sign to his two attendants, who immediately planted themselves at the front and back doors of the premises. "I am sorely unlucky in my visits. Host. An it please you, permit me to observe _myself_ if Master John Froth hath in reality gone abroad."

"Hast thou business, Master Grasp," inquired the Host, "with mine honoured guest to-night? If so, I take it the best way would be to confide it to me, or call again. I have said it: Master John Froth _hath_ gone forth to-night."

"Business," said Grasp; "ah, to be sure; 'business, like time, stays for no man,' as the saying goes. Why, yes, I have a slight trifle of business; albeit I may not confide it to thee. Certes, I _will_ call again. Wilt thou meantime draw me a tankard ere I depart?"

Whilst the host busied himself in drawing the liquor called for, and which he immediately set about, in the hope of speedily getting rid of the trio, Grasp sauntered into the pa.s.sage, and peeped into the private apartment of Froth, in order to be sure he was really out, and then whispered to his two neighbours to make a shew of leaving the house by the back way, and quietly conceal themselves in the orchard.

That done, he returned to the kitchen, drank off his liquor, and bade the host good night.

Scarce had he gone a dozen paces, however, ere he returned stealthily, and watching without the window till the host for some purpose left the kitchen, he very quietly re-entered it, and concealed himself there.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

THE DEER STEALERS.

The Lucy family we have already had occasion to notice as descended from an ancient and honourable house. They might indeed say with Christopher Sly--"We came in with Richard Conqueror," since they have in truth, occupied an important position in England for many centuries.

The mansion of Charlecote, at the period of our story, stood in the midst of a park or chase much greater in extent than at the present time.

The ground plan of the building forms in shape the Roman capital letter E, perhaps in compliment to the virgin Queen, with whose arms it is decorated. The soft and gentle Avon gliding at the base, and the park, which immediately surrounded the building, was shadowed by oaks of great age, which gradually gave place to brake and thicket, almost impenetrable in some parts to aught save the hound or the game he followed. This again was relieved at intervals by open s.p.a.ces of great beauty, in which the fern grew in wild luxuriance, and hundreds of brood short-stemmed oaks, at distant intervals, threw their huge branches over the green surface, as if rejoicing in their unconfined luxuriance. In such spots, so bright and fresh in the pale light of the moon, the fern decked with liquid dew, and the branches of the trees glittering with bright drops, the fairies might well be imagined to hold their sequestered revels.

Every glade and bosky bourne, every tree and fern-clad undulation, was a scene peculiarly adapted to the elfin and the fay. They seemed to tell, in their sweetness, and their unmolested seclusion, of the innocent ages of an early world, when faun and satyr, and nymph and dryad, revelled in the open glade, or reposed on the mossed bank beneath the sheltering boughs.

Stealthily, and with the utmost caution, not a word even whispered, but communicating to each other by signs as they advanced, young Shakespeare and Diccon Snare slowly emerged from the more thick cover upon one of these picturesque glades, and took their stand behind a huge oak--

"An oak whose boughs were moss'd with age, And big top bald with dry antiquity."

"We near the herd," said Shakespeare, in a gentle whisper to his companion.

"We do so," said Snare, "a few yards more and we shall get within shot, thanks to our care in gaming the wind, and, look, ye, there they be! You can just see their antlered heads above the long white gra.s.s in yonder open s.p.a.ce."

"We must be wary in our approach," said Shakespeare, in a whisper; "tread softly, that the blind mole may not hear a footfall."

"'Twere best to lay along and drag ourselves to yonder blasted oak,"

said Snare. "Be careful and keep where the fern is less thick. The slightest unnatural movement of the herbage, and they are off."

So saying, Snare lay flat on the ground, and began to worm himself towards the tree he had mentioned, Shakespeare doing the same and following close in his wake; and so quietly and cautiously did they continue their serpent-like course, that a looker-on would hardly have discovered the track they took except by the occasional movements of the long gra.s.s and fern.

Every now and then the crafty Snare lay perfectly quiet for a few moments, and then cautiously raising his bare head, looked forth to see if the herd were still unconscious of their approach.

Nothing could be more lovely than the entire scene, as it was looked upon by Shakespeare. Before and around him lay the wild chase, the deer couched "in their own confines," and nearly hidden in the long thick gra.s.s of ages--himself in a spot which, except under the peculiar circ.u.mstance in which he sought it, he could scarce have beheld the game so near,--those magnificent and antlered monarchs of waste, be it remembered. For in Elizabeth's day, and in the extensive parks of the great, the stag was a wilder and fiercer creature than the same animal domesticated as they are, from the confined s.p.a.ce in which they are necessarily kept.

The danger attendant on the situation also lent its charm to one of his bold and ardent spirit. As his eye glanced amidst the magnificent scenery, his imagination was instantly carried back to the days of the early English kings, when Britain was one entire forest, waste or wold; and when, even at an after period, the conquering Norman had lain waste whole districts to give room for the chase. Then again, with the shifting change of thought, his imagination bodied forth the fabled beings of an earlier age. The mossed carpet on which he stood, the venerable trees around, the sweet scent of the fern, and the perfumed air of the fresh forest, as the dews of summer night fell around him, suggested those magnificent thoughts, peculiar to himself, and which in after life produced descriptions unequalled for beauty in any age. He was

"With Hercules and Cadmus, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta.

Besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seemed all one mutual cry."

Meantime whilst the mind of Shakespeare was impressed with the beauty of the situation, as well as interested in the sport, the less imaginative Snare, with his whole soul intent upon slaughter, and with all the cunning of his craft, his body flattened against the huge tree, one hand keeping his companion back, the other grasping his cross-bow, again cautiously peered out into the glade before him.

This was a moment of intense interest to the deer-stealers. They found themselves so close upon the wild and magnificent animals that they could see their slightest movement.

There is indeed, something inexpressibly exciting to the hunter or the deer stalker in thus finding himself in the midst of the herd, a spy upon them in their security, conscious at the same time that the slightest movement or mistake on his own part will ruin the hours of toil he has previously spent in gaining his position.

A magnificent stag lay a little to the right, and nearest to Shakespeare; he touched his companion lightly on the shoulder, and by a sign signified that he meant to fire at it.

Snare stretched his neck and peeped over his shoulder. As he did so, Shakespeare saw, that with the instinctive knowledge and jealousy of their nature, the herd were becoming aware that danger was in their close vicinity.

In an instant their heads were thrown back, the next moment Snare heard at some distance that short guttural noise, so peculiar to the deer at particular seasons of the year, and as the splendid animal upon which Shakespeare had fixed his eye caught the sound, it leaped to its feet and bounded from the spot, the whole herd in an instant also flying like the wind towards the cover, seemed to vanish into the mists of night; but ere his companion could stay his hand, Shakespeare had raised his bow to his shoulder and fired. The shot struck the deer just behind the shoulder, and the animal bounding into the air, fell struggling amongst the fern.

"Hark!" said Snare, as the same guttural sounds were again heard in the woods. "You should not have fired. 'Tis the signal from our comrades.

The keepers are at hand."

"May the fiend take them," said Shakespeare.

"So say I," returned Snare; "but an we take not especial care, they will take us; for look ye, the startled herd will sweep by them yonder, and they will be upon us anon; and see, that huge beast is kicking and struggling like a dying ox,--quick, good William, strike roundly in and cut his throat."

So saying, Snare gave all his attention to the direction in which the sounds came, whilst Shakespeare, dashing upon the stag, seized the animal by the horns. There was then a short and desperate struggle, and with his sharp dagger he cut the creature's throat. He then as swiftly rejoined his companion. Scarcely had he done so ere they were both aware of the approach of the keepers, who having observed the affrighted herd, and at the same time noticed the peculiar sounds given by the watchers, and which were somewhat out of season, came directly upon them.

"We might easily shew them a clean pair of heels, and join the bulky Froth without the palings," whispered Snare; "but we must have yonder beast at all hazards; and we can but make a fight of it if it come to the worst. Down with thee, good Will, flat in the fern. Here they come--I see them plainly in yonder glade." So saying, Snare threw himself on the ground close beside Shakespeare, and immediately divesting himself of his jerkin and hat, rose up again a most grisly object--neither more nor less than Mors, or Dreary Death. Meanwhile the rangers came quickly on, four in number, and each armed with cross-bows and a short barbed, spear.

They advanced to within about a bow-shot from the tree behind which Snare and Shakespeare were concealed, when the former, slowly gliding from behind its stern, advanced directly upon them.

The first sight of such an apparition, seen but indistinctly amongst the huge boughs, brought the whole party to a stand. They but half made out its hideous outline, when it emerged into the clear moonlight, and seemed gliding upon them, "a bare-ribbed death, horrible to sight." To say the keepers were frightened would be to say little. They were at first paralysed, and then turning, they fled like the wind; whilst Snare immediately again threw himself flat on his face, and was lost to sight amongst the fern; so that, as the keepers looked back whilst they fled, the apparition had apparently vanished into the earth.

Rejoining Shakespeare, Snare now resumed his outward garment; and taking advantage of the panic, both hastily approached the deer, and securing its legs, fastened them on a quarter-staff which they had supported on their shoulders, they then hastened across the glade.

So soon as they had gained the park palings, and which at this period, and at this part, ran across a deep sandy lane, they threw down their burden; and casting themselves on the ground to regain breath after their rapid flight, listened attentively. In a few moments a huge broad-backed countryman, clad in the loose frock of a miller's man, mounted upon a strong-jointed horse, and carrying an empty sack on the pommel of the saddle, rode past.

"You ride late, Master Miller," said Shakespeare, as he clambered over the palings.

"Nay; rather I ride early, Master Forester," returned the other. "Hast anything for the mill to-night?"

"I have, good Froth," said Shakespeare; "but is there a clear coast?"

"By the ma.s.s! I think there be. Be quick, however, for three of Sir Thomas's fellows have pa.s.sed this spot not a quarter of an hour back."

"Good!" said Shakespeare. "Then hand me thy meal bag." And the horseman threw his sack to Shakespeare, as Snare at the same moment heaved the carcase of the deer over the paling, and then following himself, the sack was quickly drawn over the body of the deer, and it was thrown across the horse, the trio making the best of their way along the deep sandy lane towards Stratford.

As they emerged from the lane upon a rushy mead, and left the boundary of the park, a low whistle was heard, which they answered. Soon afterwards they were joined by their companions, and enveloped in mists of the swampy ground they traversed.

It was about the hour when "night is at odds with morning which is which" that the party we have before seen a.s.sembled at the Lucy Arms once more entered its hospitable doors. Quietly, and with considerable caution, however, they stole in, one of them bearing upon his shoulders, nay, round his neck as it were, with the hind and fore legs protruding before him, the carcase of a goodly stag. This latter bent his tall form, as he was ushered into the kitchen of the hostel, and threw his heavy burthen upon the floor, whilst his companions and mine host, by the light of the fire, and in great glee, proceeded to examine it.