"Their father at least should be made so. There's every reason and right for it. He your prisoner, taken back with you to Bristol, 'tis but natural his daughters should accompany him, and share his captivity. If they have the true filial affection they'll be but too willing to do that. Does your Highness comprehend?" "Quite!" was the laconic response. The suggestion, cruel and ruffianly, did not jar on Rupert's ears; rather was it in harmony with his wishes, and half-formed designs. He was proceeding to ponder upon it, having ridden through the gate, when a cry, peculiarly intoned, came from a remote corner of the park, quick followed by a shrill whistle. The air was still, and sounds could be heard from afar; these being clearly distinguishable. "Ho-ho!" exclaimed the Prince, reining his horse to a stand. "Sport going on here! Somebody out hawking." The _hooha-ha-ha_ was familiar to him. "Yes," said Lunsford. "That was a falconer's cry--the cast-off." "Who might it be, Sir Thomas?" "Impossible to say, Prince. The party must be behind that spinney of Scotch firs. But see! yonder the hawks! Peregrines in chase of a heron." "By'r Lady, yes! A splendid caste. Trained to perfection. How handsomely they mount up! Over him now! That stoop and rake, superb. A fig for your chances, master lance-beak. Hey! One of them bound! Now the other. Now down, down. _Wunderschon_!" Absorbed in watching the actual conflict, all eyes directed upward, Rupert and his following for a time neither saw nor thought of anything else. No more did they of the hawking party, who, led by the chase, had pushed on through the spinney of firs to be forward at the kill. Only when the bound bird was writhing to free itself, in its last struggles lowering down to earth, did the two parties catch sight of one another. Not so near yet, a wide stretch of the park being between; but near enough for a mutual making out of what they were. "Soldiers!" exclaimed they of the hawking party. "Wenches!" the word that came from the lips of the Cavaliers. "We're in luck, Prince," said Lunsford. "You see yonder?" "Two ladies; yes. Are they the birds we're in search of, think you?" "Sure of it, your Highness." "Playing with other birds. Ha-ha! Well; suppose we join them at their play?" "As your Highness commands." "Do you know them, Sir Thomas--I mean personally?" "I've never been introduced, Prince; but Captain Trevor--" "Ah! I remember your saying something about his--Trevor!" he called back to an officer of his suite, "come hither!" Reginald Trevor it was; who, parting from his place in the line, rode up, respectfully saluting. "If I'm not mistaken, sir," said the Prince, "you have acquaintance with the ladies we see yonder? Presumably the daughters of Master Ambrose Powell." "If it be they, your Highness, I once had. But it's been dropped long ago." "What! A quarrel?"