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 assortment, 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 grass 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.