For a few minutes Surrey remained gazing at the figure in mute
astonishment, during which it maintained the same motionless posture.
At length he was able to murmur forth the interrogation, "Who art
thou?"
" A friend," replied the figure, in a sepulchral tone.
"Are you a man or spirit?" demanded Surrey.
"It matters not--I am a friend," rejoined the figure.
"On what errand come you here?" asked Surrey.
"To serve you," replied the figure; "to liberate you. You shall go hence
with me, if you choose."
"On what condition? "rejoined Surrey.
"We will speak of that when we are out of the castle, and on the green
sod of the forest," returned the figure.
"You tempt in vain," cried Surrey. "I will not go with you. I recognise in
you the demon hunter Herne." The figure laughed hollowly--so hollowly
that Surrey's flesh crept upon his bones.
" You are right, lord of Surrey," he said; "I am Herne the Hunter. You
must join me. Sir Thomas Wyat is already one of my band."
"You lie, false fiend!" rejoined Surrey. "Sir Thomas Wyat is in France."
It is you who lie, lord of Surrey," replied Herne; "Sir Thomas Wyat is now
in the great park. You shall see him in a few minutes, if you will come
with me.
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