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the purpose of attack. We have it will cost thee dear, perhaps, for the shown her better sport however.” walls of Saint Mary are strong, and
“ Your prowess I admire, it is be- dark within. Thou understandest me?” yond your years. Yet it is my duty ' The youth bowed expressively, to tell you," said Whatton, “ that whilst a smile of derision again sat true generosity may show itself better upon his face. by sparing a fallen foe.”
“ I dread neither priests nor walls: “ Cry you mercy, Sir, yonder crea- I care not, so I cure the Prior of ture exhibits no sign of foilment; Ulvescroft of his churlish propensities, an you were not here, she would as for, like myself, I deem him worthy soon take me as a buck.”
of better things." “ Well, well, you have shown your There was a stress on the word ability, and it promises fair in riper “better," and a laughter in the eye, years.
as he uttered the last sentence, which 6 A small matter, a small matter, were provoking enough.
He drew good priest ; but you are right, we the silken mantle that had hitherto hope to live to do better things.” hung carelessly behind him across
These words were accompanied by one shoulder, and, snatching up his so strong a tone of superiority, joined bow, which during the course of parwith so contemptuous a toss of the ley he had suffered to fall to the head, and a countenance so indicative ground, turning short upon his heel, of scorn, that Whatton felt
of which he made so good a use, that much
very disposed to anger. But the haughty he was very soon out of sight. smile and curl of the upper lip was so
“Sayest thou so, young Swiftfoot ? mollified by the otherwise natural
we shall see," said Whatton, pulling beauty of the face, that the anger of down the sleeves of his dress with the the Prior yielded to the contempla- air of one who hardly knows how to
66 But I betion of so rare a piece of Nature's vent his mortification. workmanship. He seemed fascinated, lieve thee capable of that, or aught and stood in fixed attention, silently else thou art bent upon... However, viewing him. The boy took no notice once more I say beware!" of this astonishment, although it es
The words of the Prior were spent caped not his observation, but con- in air, the youth was past hearing, tinued,
and Whatton, after a moment's pause, a stranger among these again pursued his way homeward. wilds, and know not exactly which He could not, however, easily divest way to wend my steps, I seek a con- his thoughts of what had occurred; tentious Prior, who they tell me the figure of the boy, in all his native dwells hereabouts ; a man, I hear, grace and beauty, was constantly who loves the chace so well, that he present to his imagination. Who or grudges every one else a partition of it. what he was he could not so readily Perhaps you could guide me to him ?” determine ; noble, his whole appear
“ And what, if I could ?" demand- ance bespoke him; and Whatton sused Whatton, but little pleased to hear pected him to be one of the followers himself so spoken of.
of Witwicke's Lord, who, having “ I have a vow against him," said heard of the feuds subsisting between the lad: “I have sworn to despoil that nobleman and himself, had in the him of one of his fattest bucks ; and sportiveness of boyhood thus insulted by the walls of St. Mary, where they him. The mind of the Prior was say he resides, I will keep my prom- rather disposed to generosity than ise."
otherwise, but he could not very “ Why thou art the veriest little readily forgive this seeming fresh varlet mine eyes ever saw !" cried affront,-since he doubted not but Whatton, rage now overcoming every the Lord Hastings had a share in it. other feeling. 66 But let me warn And this it was, more than the perthee, stripling, and see thou take it tinacious loquacity of the boy, that in time ; desist from thy purpose, or really mortified and displeased him.
Two days were passed by the Prior, “ Declare your meaning !" said subsequent to his rencounter in the Whatton, not without some appreforest, in retirement at home, nor had hension of what was to be related. he once wandered forth, as was usual 66 The forest ! reverend Sir, our with him to do, in search of amuse- rights are trampled on, your power ment. The third day was the anni- contemned, even the walls of the versary of Saint Mary, to whom the priory have not in this instance been priory was dedicated, and it was respected, nor have they afforded ushered in by the inmates of Ulves- safety to the animals that browse becroft with the usual solemnity. As neath them." the duties of the occasion were nu 6 The forest !” The Prior started, merous, they engrossed the whole at- the words of the unknown rushed to tention of the Superior. His heart his remembrance.
6 Hath any one was tranquil, his brow was serene, dared ?- But, no. Youth may vaunt and he thought only on the various itself, but it cannot accomplish much.” religious ceremonies of the day. But He recollected the prowess he had a different scene awaited him. already witnessed, and was half dis
It was nearly noon, and the Prior, posed to recall what he had uttered : somewhat wearied by his exertions,
he turned to the monk,
Well, Berwas crossing the outer court from nard, what mischief is this that hath the chapel, for the purpose of enjoy, happened ?” ing a short interval of repose in his
Three goodly bucks already lie private chamber, when his observa. slaughtered beneath the very walls of tion was attracted by a large party the priory, and three more, for aught of menials, belonging to the establish- I know." ment, in deep and confused alterca “Stop, stop," said the Prior, in a tion. Their eager looks and loud voice tremulous with agitation :hurried tones betokened that some
66 Who hath done this deed ?” thing more than usual had happened. “We know not; it seemed almost Whatton, vexed that any thing like the work of magic, so swiftly, so situmult should interrupt the tranquil- lently whizzed the arrows from ality of the festival, advanced hastily midst the copse. But the hand that towards them.
drew them has hitherto eluded our “Whence this commotion,brethren? search, no one was to be seen.” It suits not with the sacred duties we “A plague on that young imp," have been engaged in, and surely said Whatton, stamping his foot furimight have been spared this day." ously on the ground; none less
The men looked at each other ; daring than himself would so have they hesitated, for they were well defied me. Run, Bernard; William, acquainted with the rigidity of their run. Search well each covert, thicket, Superior, as respected religious ob- fern. See
no spot unservances, and feared to incúr his sought ; and, mark me, Sirs, find displeasure ; but the case was urgent, whom you will, bring them straight and it was necessary he should be before me.” informed of it. At length one of The Prior turned to his chamber them, older and somewhat more ele- as he spoke, but it was in no enviable vated in situation than the others, frame of mind : for some time he advanced towards him ; he laid one paced to and fro, with the rapid unhand reverently upon his breast, and even tread of one who is uncertain with the other made the usual sign of how to act; so angry did he feel at the cross.
being made the sport of so young a “ Think not, holy Father, that our stripling. minds are evil in the midst of thank The brethren, in the mean time, fulness ! or that we would offer any had sped the best of their way into disrespect at the foot of that shrine the intricacies of the forest, not a whit to which we all yield obedience : less anxious than their Superior to but"
discover who was the perpetrator of
so daring an act. Two hours inter- suppressed the kindly sensations, vened before they returned, an inter- which, notwithstanding his endeaval passed by Whatton in painful vours, he felt arising towards him, suspense. Again and again he ac- . and assu
ssuming an air at once stern, cused himself for not having called haughty, and forbidding, thus adoff his dog, and avoided altercation dressed him: with the young and apparently mali “ So, boy, thou hast really and ciously disposed boy. The return of truly had audacity enough to put thy the brethren, however, who had at wicked threat into exécution : :-And last been successful, drew his thoughts what thinkest thou shall now be the into another channel, and Whatton reward of such wantonness ?” lost no time in hastening to confront The culprit answered not, but tossthe aggressor
ing back the plume, that had hitherto The conjectures of the Prior had partially shaded one side of his fea'not been wrong. The same fair boy tures, with that kind of instinctive stood before him with this only dif- motion of the head that expresses ference in his appearance, that the more than words, he greeted the light fantastic habit, he had worn on Prior with the same incomprehensitheir former rencounter, had been ble smile he had before bestowed exchanged for a suit of simple green, upon him. skirted by a coat or jacket, that but “ I understand you," said Whattoned closely around him, and, de- ton ; you bid defiance to my auscending nearly as low as the knee, thority. But beware, silly urchin, hid his figure almost entirely from your life, if we so will it, may be observance. His cap, too, that had made answerable for the crime you previously glittered with the brilliant have been guilty of this day.” rays of the diamond and the ruby, “ I deny not your authority, Prior; and had been adorned with party- yet I would ask, and I coloured plumes, now bore but one will not deny my right of doing so, long sable feather, which, falling how far such authority extends ? or gracefully over the left temple, did whether you take in the free born, as but set off the clearness of a com- well as the hind the noble as the plexion for which nature and exercise peasant ? When these questions are had done much.
replied to, I, in my turn, may perIn sooth, if the Prior had thought haps declare the punishment I look the lad handsome at their first inter- forwa:d to." view, spite of his indignation he “ Thy tongue.seems to keep pace could not now alter his opinion, so with thy fingers, youth ; but should exquisitely beautiful did he appear. I condescend to hold parley with He seemed to take but little notice of thee, wilt thou promise to declare the Superior as he approached him; truly who, and what thou art, and bis arms were pinioned, and his looks whence thy wantonness hath arisen?" almost wholly bent upon the ground;
6 You will learn both, ere we part," but there lurked so deep an expres- said the boy significantly, “ I promiso sion of archness in them, when they that.” turned at intervals upon Whatton, “ Might I presume to interfere," that he knew not what to think. said one of the brethren coming for
He looked steadfastly at him, but ward, and casting a look full of anthe dark orbs of the lad avoided his ger and inveteracy upon the fairgaze. He seemed to delight in side- headed offender, “such conduct delong glances, and appeared capable serves no common punishment, since of using them as much to the pur- this stripling hath learnt his trade too pose as the bolts he had so wantonly perfectly and too early to hope for alet fly from his bow. Determined, how- mendment from your worship's lenity." ever, to trace the motives which had “ Enough, enough," said the Suled to such extraordinary conduct to perior, addressing himself to the their most latent source, Whatton monk, and without noticing the ques
tions of his prisoner. “Where is the who meddle not with him, night weapon with which this mischief has have found an abler hand than one so been perpetrated ?"
truly formed for gentleness." “ Here, Father, here.”
“ Say not so, good Father,” said “ Whatton took the youth's bow the lady, not ill pleased with the terfrom the hands of the monk who mination of the Prior's speech, “ contendered it-he examined it minutely; temn not the abilities of Isabel in the it was formed from the maple wood, cross-bow, nor in the field. It is the and was of excellent workmanship, pride of Hastings to think his child having the figure of a stag in the atti- excels in them. Nay, Prior, have not tude of fleeing, with an arrow in you yourself commended them ?” front, beautifully carved in its centre. “ True, lady, but-" Underneath the animal was written “ Holy Father--use an adversary in small silver letters
generously, and he were indeed a
dastard, did he not follow the exIsabel of Hastings.
ample. What motive, think you, The friar started. He passed his
feet thither, or nerved my eye from the weapon to the face of
arm, so near your dwelling ?” its owner; the transition and the ex
The Prior bent his head; he was pression it conveyed had not passed unwilling to declare to Isabel that he unnoticed, and the rising colour upon believed her actions under the sancher cheek proclaimed that his sur- tion of a higher power: he was also mise was not ill founded.
It was, above a subterfuge. Isabel was not indeed, the daughter of his proud slow in comprehension. neighbour-of his foe, that then stood
“I know what you
It before him! who in the gaiety and frolicsomeness of youth had played so boldly to your gate ?"
was by my father's orders that I came this trick upon him. And Whatton,
Whatton bowed an affirmative. uncertain what to say, or how to proceed, stood confusedly silent, gazing of Witwicke is no man's enemy. He
“ Listen, good Father. The Lord upon her. Isabel, certain that all is not ignorant of your virtues, esmust now be discovered, signified her tranged as he is at this moment from wish to be alone with him, and the Prior immediately complied with her you. He is above the base act of
mean destruction. That I, his daughrequest. The brethren were ordered to withdraw, and, having unloosed but not as you charge me with,
ter, have drawn the bow, I admit; the noose that fettered her arms, through wantonness. I know my faWhattoņ again retired to some dis
ther's sentiments toward you ; I know tance from her. For a short interval Isabel remain- ciled ; and I shall be deceived if I
he seeks an opportunity to be reconed as silent as the Prior-she seemed have not formed a correct estimate indeed communing with herself; but, of your generosity. Father, the evil though her cheeks continued to re- I have done you shall be repaired, tain their deep suffusion, her eye lost amply repaired. But I beseech you not a whit of its archness, as at length to let all animosity cease betwixt the she said:
Lord Hastings and yourself.” “ Well, my Lord of Ulvescroft, are you satisfied that, whether in the she bent one knee to the ground,
As she pronounced the last words, light of friends or enemies, the own crossed her hands submissively upon ers of Witwicke are punctual to their her bosom, and looked earnestly at promise ?”
the Prior. She was no longer the “Such punctuality was never doubtcd, noble dansel, yet methinks the fiery frolicsome youth whose eye fair Isabel might have found fitter spoke daringly, whose lips breathed employment than to have taken part the interesting woman, kneeling be
contemptuously-she was the gentle, in the feuds of her father. And sure- fore her spiritual adviser, imploring ly my Lord of Hastings, had he the blessing of peace and amity for a wished to do another ill turn to those
It was impossible for so kindly a The Prior of Ulvescroft wa heart as Whatton possessed to with- no common fue, and it needed all the stand the appeal of Isabel, couched art, all the stratagem of Isabel to as it was in so extraordinary a man- convince him, aggrieved as he bener; her grace, her beauty, her spirit, lieved himself to be, that Witwicke's but above all, the energetic language Lord still deserved his esteem.” of those eyes, that so recently had “And his child,” said the Priorhad sufficient influence to stir up the “ Was anxious to show, that she also wrathful emotions of the heart, now longed to share the friendship of pleading forcibly to the milder pas- Whatton !" sions.
“And she has gained it,” said the “Rise, noble girl !” he exclaimed, friar, placing his hand gently upon “ The Prior of Ulvescroft must not her head, and blessing her. Go, be outdone in generosity-he needs get thee gone, fair daughter, and no reminding of his duty! Rise, Isa- bring thy father as early as thou wilt, bel, and be it as you wish-it were for Whatton longs to greet him.' impossible to withstand you. Should, Isabel stayed not for farther pertherefore, the Lord of Witwicke real- mission, but, again crossing her hands ly seek a reconciliation"
reverently upon her bosom, she bowed Isabel rose joyously.
respectfully to the Prior, and set for" I hie me homewards, Prior; in ward with a light heart and foot toless than three hours I will undertake wards the mansion of her sire. True to greet my Lord Hastings and your- to her promise, three hours did not self as friends ; and, mark me, Sir, elapse, before the Lord of Hastings five goodly bucks for one ; that is himself, attended by Isabel in her Isabel's penance for the crime so own proper habiliments, and a nuwantonly committed this day-com- merous retinue, rode up to the gates mitted in the cause of duty." of Ulvescroft, for the purpose of ra
She smiled gaily as she spoke. tifying those engagements of amity
“ Thou art most extraordinarily and good neighbourhood she had algifted, daughter ; yet one thing I ready so ably commenced. The Lord would know, ere thy departure." of Witwicke brought with him seSay on, Father.”
veral costly presents for the Prior, “ Was it necessary, in order to ac- amongst which, were the deer procomplish the reunion of hearts, that mised by his daughter ; and, what three unoffending animals should be was more valuable to Whatton, with the sacrifice?"
her own hand, Isabel presented him “ All was necessary. When the with the bow that had been the cause wound is deep, deep ust be the of so much mischief.
way in which they were both found OUR UR next subject is CARBON. The to consist of carbon will soon be men
chief form in which it is obtain- tioned. The diamond it is well known ed in any purity are, the diamond and is a crystal ; and we may suppose charcoal. So wonderful are the dis- that in the vast laboratory of nature, pensations of Nature,--taking nature the regular arrangement of the parti(to quote our beautiful poet) as the cles of carbon form by the work of name for an effect, whose cause is years the diamond. God,- that perhaps there is no body Charcoal is a black, brittle, inodowhich we should liave thought at first rous, insoluble substance; an excelsight less like that beautiful gem the lent conductor of electricity, but a diamond, than the opaque black sub- very bad one of heat. Charcoal may stance which we call charcoal. The be procured by heating any kind of
ATHENEUM VOL. 2. new series.