Great Britain -- History -- Medieval period, 1066-1485 -- Juvenile fiction
Straight to the thicket rode Humphrey at a good pace, but he found no
Hugo there. "Here is a snarl to be undone!" he cried. "The lad is too
headstrong. Perchance he hath already run into the noose of the other
king's man. For who knoweth where he is? And I shall be held to answer
for it. This cometh of a man being servant to a boy and a stranger at
that. I will away after him." So saying, he rode to the south, giving
all habitations of men and walks of forest rangers a wide berth, and
hoping sincerely that Hugo before him had done the same. "For the lad,"
said he, "is in the main a good lad. And how can I face my lady if harm
cometh to him? It is no blame to him that he hath not a knack at dreams
to help him on his way."
At the last word his horse shied; for out of the undergrowth at the
side of the little glade through which he was riding fluttered a
partridge, while, after it, floundering through the bushes with a great
noise, came Fleetfoot. In vain Humphrey tried to call the dog from his
prey. In a twinkling the unhappy bird was in the hound's mouth and
Fleetfoot was off again to the thicket to supplement his scant dinner
with a bird of his own catching.
"Here be troubles enough!" cried Humphrey. "King's men on our track,
and now partridge feathers to set the keepers and rangers after us.
Well, I will push through this underbrush to the right. Perchance Hugo
rideth in the bridle-path beyond, since it was from that part the dog
came. And he shall put the hound in leash. I am resolved on it. I have
no mind to have hand or foot lopped off that so a deerhound may have
his fill of partridges."
With a frown he pushed through the underbrush. The sun was setting when
he emerged into a path and, at a little distance, caught sight of Hugo
jogging slowly along and looking warily about him. He dared not signal
him by a whistle, so, putting spurs to his loaded horse, he advanced as
fast as he was able, and shortly after came up with the lad, his anger
at Fleetfoot's trespass rather increased than abated, and, in
consequence, with his manner peremptory.
"Into the thick here to the right," he growled, laying his hand on the
bridle of Hugo's horse. "The sun is now set, and we go no farther
to-night. In this stretch robbers abound, and I have no mind to face
three dangers when two be enough."
Hugo looked at him inquiringly.
"Yea, by St. Swithin!" went on the angry serving-man. "King's men and
partridge feathers be enough without robbers." And giving Hugo's horse,
which he had now headed toward the thicket, a slight cut on the flank
with his whip, he drove Hugo before him, much to the boy's indignation.
"Thou hast been drinking!" he cried, turning in his saddle. "Strike not
my horse again."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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