The end soon came, for, raising his stout ash pole high up in the air, De la Zouch brought it down with, tremendous force, and easily breaking through the pedlar's guard, it alighted heavily upon his head. With a groan the unlucky man staggered back and fell upon the turf. The blow had struck home, and the Derby packman was no more.

Whilst this scene was being enacted, Sir Henry's page, missing his master from amongst the hawking party, had turned back in great trepidation to seek him. Guided by the sound of the blows, the youth had experienced little difficulty in attaining the object of his search, and, standing at a respectable distance, he had been a silent witness of the tragic conclusion of the encounter. Seeing that all was over, he slowly advanced, in a very uncertain state of mind as to the character of his reception.

De la Zouch was too busily engaged in a scrutiny of his late opponent to notice the arrival of his page, and upon the latter devolved the unpleasant duty of announcing himself.

"That was a featly stroke, my lord," he began.

Sir Henry turned round, and a sigh of relief escaped him as he found it was not a fresh combatant with whom he would have to contend.

"Ha, Eustace," he said, "There are many who would like to learn the trick of it; 'tis known to few besides myself, but I will teach it thee some future time."

Eustace, too, gave a sigh of relief. His master was unusually gracious.

When Sir Henry spoke again, his voice was changed.

"Hast thou seen all?" he asked.

"I saw the end of it."

"But the commencement?"

"No! I was--"

"Ah, well," interrupted the knight, "'twas not my fault; I would fain have had thee witness its commencement, for, by my troth, the knave brought his fate upon himself."

He rolled the corpse over and they turned to go, but ere they had proceeded many yards they came to a halt. De la Zouch had an idea, and they wheeled about and returned to the body once more.

"Empty the jerkin," said Sir Henry, as he pointed to the man's jacket.

Eustace shuddered, but the command was given in so peremptory a tone that there was no option but to comply. He stooped down and emptied the capacious pockets of the dead man's jerkin, wondering the while-time whether or no his master had suddenly turned robber.

"There is little enough to take," said he.

"Tut, I want none of it," replied the knight, and picking up the a.s.sortment, which consisted of a huge jack-knife, a pair of spectacles with monstrously wide rims, some bootlaces, a broken comb, and a few coins, he carefully scattered them about the scene where the struggle had taken place. He was not yet satisfied, though, for espying the hollow trunk of an old tree close by, he made the unwilling page help him to deposit the body there.

Eustace wonderingly helped him. He would much preferred to have left it alone, but he dared offer no resistance. He could only hope that if the matter were heard of again, he might not be implicated in the plot.

De la Zouch critically surveyed the scene, and after lightly covering the body over with gra.s.s and twigs, he turned to depart.

They walked on in silence for some distance before either of them spoke: the knight deeply wrapped in thought; the page eager and yet fearful to learn the particulars, yet not daring to question his master.

At last Sir Henry spoke.

"Mind you, Eustace," said he, "say naught of this affair. I would not have my name mixed up with it, and if they ask thee, say thou knowest naught."

Eustace felt mightily relieved, and readily gave the required promise.

He was used to these little deceptions which his master was wont to use on pressing occasions.

"And see," continued the knight, after a pause, "I am hurt, for although I have come off victor without a scratch, I have not come out of the tussle without a bruise or two. I shall tell them I have had a fall. You understand!"

The page acquiesced, the conversation ceased, and the two walked on in silence to rejoin their companions.

CHAPTER III.

THE CLOSE OF THE DAY.

See how the wily rascal plays his part.

With many a groan and many a practised art.

Around his victims he the net entwines, Nor rests till he is snared within its lines.

But sure such hurtsome craft and wicked toil, Will eftsoon on the villain's head recoil.

In the meantime the chase had grown in excitement. The hawks were as eager to distinguish themselves as the birds were to escape, and the sport waxed fast and furious.

As the sun declined, the scattered hawkers struggled back to the appointed rendezvous to partake of refreshment ere they began their return journey. By ones and twos they came, bearing with them the trophies of their sport, which they deposited in a heap before the ladies.

No one missed De la Zouch at first, and it was not until nigh upon the conclusion of the meal that his absence was remarked.

"Why, where is Sir Henry de la Zouch?" asked the old knight.

No one had seen him for some time.

"Ah, well," exclaimed Sir George, "'tis a bad plan to be betwixt towns at mealtimes, eh, Doll? I suppose he'll come soon, though. Perhaps he's having the best run of the day all alone;" and the knight sighed at the bare thought of his being away from it.

But Sir George's antic.i.p.ations were not fulfilled, for when the meal was finished De la Zouch had not appeared.

"He may have met with an accident?" suggested Manners.

"I rather think Sir Henry is afraid of me," stammered old Sir John de Lacey, as he buried his face in the last tankard of ale.

"Then he were wise indeed to stay away," added Sir Thomas Stanley, with a sly wink. "I, for one, would not lightly risk a combat with so doughty a knight as yourself, else Margaret might eftsoon weep for a lover departed."

As there was still some time left, and there was no certain knowledge that Sir Henry needed their a.s.sistance, it was determined to return slowly homewards, and if sport offered itself upon the way to turn aside and follow it. The party had not been long in motion before it roused a "fall" of woodc.o.c.ks, the very sight of which--so excessively rare at such a time--infused into the sportsmen all the animation of which they were capable. The hawks shot up after them, and their bells, which could be heard tinkling even when the birds were beyond the range of vision, served in some degree to inform the hunters which direction they should take.

"Well, if De la Zouch is doing better than this, why then he is welcome to it," said Sir George, as with his coat sleeve he wiped away the perspiration which was streaming down his face. "'Tis fine sport, this, Master Manners," he added, and the old baron chuckled with glee.

It was at this moment that the head falconer approached.

"We have found Sir Henry, my lord," he said. "He is sorely injured by a fall."

"Ha! is that so? Then you were right, Master Manners," exclaimed Sir George, as he turned round to the falconer. "Where is he?" he asked.

"Over the ditch, my lord, close by the wall where his page is standing by his side," and he pointed to where Eustace stood.

Sir George blew his horn, and in answer to the signal the eager hunters broke off their chase and returned, puzzled in no small degree by the summons they had received. In a few brief words the situation was explained to them, and the party rapidly pushed on to rejoin their injured companion.