"
"You are a stout soldier, Sir Thomas Wyat," rejoined the demon, with a
scornful laugh; "but you are scarcely a match for Herne the Hunter, as
you will find, if you are rash enough to make the experiment. Beware!
"he exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, observing the knight lay his hand
upon his sword," I am invulnerable, and you will, therefore, vainly strike
at me. Do not compel me to use the dread means, which I could
instantly employ, to subject you to my will. I mean you well, and would
rather serve than injure you. But I will not let you go, unless you league
yourself with me. Swear, therefore, obedience to me, and depart hence
to your friends, Surrey and Richmond, and tell them you have failed to
find me."
"You know, then, of our meeting?" exclaimed Wyat.
"Perfectly well," laughed Herne. "It is now eventide, and at midnight
the meeting will take place in the forester's hut. If you attend it not, I
will. They will be my prisoners as well as you. To preserve yourself and
save them, you must join me."
"Before I return an answer," said Wyat, "I must know what has become
of Mabel Lyndwood."
Mabel Lyndwood is nought to you, Sir Thomas," rejoined Herne coldly.
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