"You are jealous, Morgan Fenwolf," rejoined Gabriel, with a malignant
grin. "We all know you are in love with Mabel yourself."

"And we all know, likewise, that Mabel will have nothing to say to you!
"cried another keeper, while the others laughed in chorus. "Come and
sit down beside us, Morgan, and finish your breakfast."

But the keeper turned moodily away, and hied towards Tristram
Lyndwood and his granddaughter. The old forester shook him cordially
by the hand, and after questioning him as to what had taken place, and
hearing how he had managed to drive the hart royal into the haye,
clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Thou art a brave huntsman,
Morgan. I wish Mab could only think as well of thee as I do."

To this speech Mabel not only paid no attention, but looked studiously
another way.

"I am glad your grandfather has brought you out to see the chase to-
day, Mabel," observed Morgan Fenwolf.

"I dame not to see the chase, but the king," she replied, somewhat
petulantly.

"It is not every fair maid who would confess so much," observed
Fenwolf, frowning.

"Then I am franker than some of my sex," replied Mabel. "But who is
the strange man looking at us from behind that tree, grandfather!