The king and the Norman knights, excited with wine, strung their hunting-horns round their necks, called for their horses, sprang into their saddles, and with huntsmen in attendance, their hounds running at their feet, rode down the steep of Malwood, and entered the New Forest. According to the custom of the period, they then dispersed through the wood to pursue the game. Walter Tyrel, however, remained with the king, and all day their dogs hunted together. At length, as the sun was setting, the king and the knight found themselves at a place known as Charingham, where were the ruins of a chapel which the Conqueror had dismantled. At that instant, a large hart, roused by the huntsmen, came bounding up between Rufus and Tyrel, who were on opposite sides of the glade. The king instantly pulled his trigger; but, the cord of the cross-bow breaking, the arrow did not fly. The stag, however, hearing a sharp sound, halted abruptly; and Rufus, after making a sign to his comrade to shoot, without being understood, cried out impatiently-- "Shoot, Walter, shoot, in the devil's name!" The knight bent his bow, and at that instant an arrow, whistling through the air, pierced the king's breast. In another moment he dropped from his horse, and expired without having time to utter a word. When Rufus fell to the ground, Tyrel, in great alarm at what he saw, leaped from his horse and rushed forward. But the king was already a corpse. Perceiving that life was quite extinct, Tyrel sprang upon his horse, spurred through the glade, rode hastily to the coast, embarked for France, and soon set foot on continental soil. Protesting his innocence, but horrified at being suspected of killing a king, even by accident, the knight afterwards went to Palestine. A rumour that the king was killed ran through the forest; but none of the knights or nobles deemed it their duty to pay any attention to the corpse. For hours the body remained among the rank grass that grew over the ruins of the chapel of Charingham, as completely abandoned as that of the Conqueror had been in the convent at Rouen. However, as the evening advanced, a charcoal-burner, passing by with his cart, observed the body pierced with an arrow, and recognised it as that of the king. More humane and considerate than Norman knights and nobles, the charcoal-burner wrapped the corpse in rags, placed it in his cart, and conveyed it to the castle of Winchester. Soon after, Rufus was buried in the choir of that cathedral, where Anglo-Saxon kings and their Danish foes reposed in peace together. Scarcely a tear, however, was shed over the grave of the Red King. The Anglo-Normans felt no grief at his death, and the Anglo-Saxons openly rejoiced that the destroyer had struck down their oppressor in the midst of his pride. [Illustration] LII. [Illustration] A CHANGE OF FORTUNE.