it is pleasant now to feel this warm sunshine,such sunshine as the soil has not been visited with for above a hundred years. It was afforested longer ago than that: but the younger trees have shaded it for above a hundred years. But see! who are these strangers talking to my boy, and peeping into his bee tree?"

"One of them is the bedel of the forest," replied Lord Fitzalan; "the rest are of course foresters. Are you summoned on the jury for to-morrow?"

"For to-morrow?"

"Yes. They are going to hold a court of Sweinmote...”

"Why, it is but a month since the last !"

"You know how little regard there is to times and seasons in these affairs now. In this, as in other things, there might as well be no law. Whenever land, or a fine, or a suspected man can be grasped, the victim is clutched without delay. The servants of the forest make their own court, their own law, their own punishments for their victims; and cut off all power of appeal to the higher courts :-all these things they do, and no man dares call them to account."

"Another court to-morrow!" said Loremar thoughtfully. "That looks ill. I will watch the proceedings: and, if wrong is done, I will try whether indeed there be no redress."

"Thrust not yourself into such danger, Loremar. They who do these things follow but the example of their prince and master. If you were to hear what I know from De Vesci of the king's outrages in the north, on pretence of trespasses on his forests, the fines levied, and with cruel violence, -the oppression of men, the insults to women, both noble and lowly, the seizure of children for hostages, you would no more think of watching the proceedings of any verderors' court than of chastising the lesser imps while the devil is abroad."

"I am glad, at all events, not to be on the jury this time," said Loremar; "for I am weary of the continual presentments against men who live round about me, and who cannot stir about their daily business without fear of some penalty-the maiming of the mastiff who guards their home, or fine, or even a prison."

“We cannot now say, 'or of loss of members, " observed Fitzalan. "It is true, indeed, that the late king put an end to these mutilations out of no tender mercy to trespassers in his forests, but because men would not deliver over any one, however clearly a trespasser, to such punishment. But, whatever were King Richard's reasons, it is one misery the less that we shall meet no more wretches so cruelly maimed for the sake of the beasts of the forest."

"Or the birds," said Loremar. "The verderors here are as strict about winged game as about the red deer. And the small creatures that run in the furrows of the field when the people are at work, the hares and rabbits, are as freely set against a man's life and liberty as the wild bull or the boar."

"The bedel is coming this way," said Fitzalan. "You may be summoned on the jury, after all." "What if I stoutly question the legality of this unseasonable court?" said Loremar, as the strangers approached.

"The court will ruin you. They never want pretexts when their victim lives within the forest verge. But I scarcely think they can desire to put you on the jury, though you are the chief freeman within their bounds. Some word of justice, some tone of mercy must have escaped you in your office, which would make them rather seek you as a victim than an office-bearer in their court."

"I am a quiet man, with no power, in their court, or out of it, as they know," said Loremar.

"It is the quiet man who loves justice that they fear and bear down. Pray God and St. Edmund that they be not about to attack you! If it prove so...”

"Let us part for this time, my lord. Something they have to say to me; and they will not approach while we are together.”

The bedel and his attendants did not approach till Lord Fitzalan was out of sight among the

CHAPTER II.

THE PRIMATE'S CALL.

THE great hall in Cardinal Langton's abode in London was lighted as for a festive occasion, one evening in the next August. The lords of the kingdom, spiritual and temporal, had openly met together in London to consider of the king's former promise to restore certain laws and usages insisted on by his nobles as needful to the security of the kingdom. From the open meeting by

daylight, these lords came to a special one at the primate's in the evening. The attendants of the Cardinal noted that the lighted ceilings, glistening with gilding, the painted wainscots illumined by sconces, the chased candlesticks and wine cups, the embroidered stools and carved settles, were not displayed for the eyes of ladies and lighthearted revellers, but for grave men who entered thoughtfully, desired no music, and were sparing in wine. It was noted also that the doors of the hall, and then the outer gates, were closed, after the guests and their host had assured themselves