But there was no longer any objection made to it; and the canines being called out of the sedge, all entered the forest, riders and followers afoot, and commenced winding by a wood-path up the steep acclivity of Ruardean's ridge. When upon its crest, which they soon after reached, the grand panorama already spoken of lay spread before their eyes. For they were on the same spot from which the young ladies had viewed it that day when Hector harassed the donkey. Neither of them bestowed a look upon it now; nor did Sabrina even glance at that road winding down from the Wilderness, off which on the former occasion she had been unable to take her eyes. Its interest for her no longer had existence; he who had invested it with such being by her side. Now she but thought of showing off the capabilities of "dear little Mer," as in fondness she was accustomed to call the diminutive specimen of the _falconidae_. Ere long Mer made exhibition of her high strain and training--for the little falcon was also a female--sufficient to prove herself neither _tercel_ nor _haggard_. First she raked down a lark, then a corn bunting; and at the third cast-off overtook and bound on to a turtle-dove, big as herself. For all she speedily brought it to the earth, there instantly killing it. Just as she had brought this quarry to ground a cry was heard, which caused interruption of the sport,-- "Soldiers!" It was the falconer who so exclaimed; for now that they were merlin-flying his services were scarce required, and one of his aids did the whistling and whooping. Left at leisure to look around, his eyes had strayed up the road beyond Drybrook, there to see what had called forth his cry. Instantly all other eyes went the same way, more than one voice muttering in confirmation,-- "Yes; they're soldiers." This was evident from their uniformity of dress--all alike, or nearly-- as also by the glancing of arms and accoutrements. Moreover, they were in military formation, riding in file, "by twos"--for they were on horseback. At sight of them all thoughts of sport were at an end, and the hawking was instantly discontinued. Mer, lured back to her mistress's wrist, was once more hooded, and the leash run through the _varvels_ of her jesses; while the falconer and his helps, with the other attendants, gathered into a group preparatory to leaving the field. Meanwhile, by no accident, but evidently from previous understanding, Sir Richard Walwyn and Eustace Trevor had drawn their horses together, at some distance from the spot occupied by the ladies, the knight saying,-- "It's Wintour's troop from Lydney, I take it. What do _you_ think, Master Trevor?" "The same as yourself. Nay, more, I'm sure of it, now. That's my cousin Rej at their head, on the grey mare, with the red feathers in his hat. You remember them?"