"Art
sure of it, knave?"
"As sure as your grace is of canonisation," replied Patch. "That shot
should have brought you a rich reward, friend - either from the king's
highness or the Lady Anne," remarked Wolsey to the keeper.
"It has brought me nothing," rejoined Fenwolf sullenly.
"Hum!" exclaimed the cardinal. "Give the fellow a piece of gold, Patch."
"Methinks I should have better earned your grace's bounty if I had let
the hart work his will," said Fenwolf, reluctantly receiving the coin.
"How, fellow?" cried the cardinal, knitting his brows.
"Nay, I mean no offence," replied Fenwolf; "but the rumour goes that
your grace and the Lady Anne are not well affected towards each
other."
"The rumour is false," rejoined the cardinal, " and you can now
contradict it on your own experience. Harkee, sirrah! where lies
Tristram Lyndwood's hut?"
Fenwolf looked somewhat surprised and confused by the question.
"It lies on the other side of yonder rising ground, about half a mile
hence," he said. "But if your grace is seeking old Tristram, you will not
find him. I parted with him, half-an-hour ago, on Hawk's Hill, and he was
then on his way to the deer-pen at Bray Wood.
Pages:
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175