'"Black Magic," said the Clerk of Netherfield (he had been a monk at Battle). "They say Rahere is more of a priest than a fool and more of a wizard than either. Here's Rahere's name writ, and there's Rahere's red cockscomb sign drawn below for such as cannot read." He looked slyly at me. '"Then read it," said I, "and show thy learning." He was a vain little man, and he gave it us after much mouthing. '"The charm, which I think is from Virgilius the Sorcerer, says: 'When thou art once dead, and Minos (which is a heathen judge) has doomed thee, neither cunning, nor speechcraft, nor good works will restore thee!' A terrible thing! It denies any mercy to a man's soul!" '"Does it serve?" said the pilgrim, plucking at Hugh's cloak. "Oh, man of the King's blood, does it cover me?" 'Hugh was of Earl Godwin's blood, and all Sussex knew it, though no Saxon dared call him kingly in a Norman's hearing. There can be but one King. '"It serves," said Hugh. "But the day will be long and hot. Better rest here. We go forward now." '"No, I will keep with thee, my kinsman," he answered like a child. He was indeed childish through great age. 'The line had not moved a bowshot when De Aquila's great horn blew for a halt, and soon young Fulke--our false Fulke's son--yes, the imp that lit the straw in Pevensey Castle[8]--came thundering up a woodway. [8] See 'Old Men at Pevensey' in _Puck of Pook's Hill_. '"Uncle," said he (though he was a man grown, he called me Uncle), "those young Norman fools who shot at you this morn are saying that your beaters cried treason against the King. It has come to Harry's long ears, and he bids you give account of it. There are heavy fines in his eye, but I am with you to the hilt, Uncle." 'When the boy had fled back, Hugh said to me: "It was Rahere's witless man cried, ''Ware Red William's arrow!' I heard him, and so did the Clerk of Netherfield." '"Then Rahere must answer to the King for his man," said I. "Keep him by you till I send," and I hastened down. 'The King was with De Aquila in the Grand Stand above Welansford down in the valley yonder. His Court--knights and dames--lay glittering on the edge of the glade. I made my homage, and Henry took it coldly. '"How came your beaters to shout threats against me?" said he. '"The tale has grown," I answered. "One old witless man cried out, ''Ware Red William's arrow,' when the young knights shot at our line. We had two beaters hit." '"I will do justice on that man," he answered. "Who is his master?" '"He is Rahere's man," said I. '"Rahere's?" said Henry. "Has my fool a fool?" 'I heard the bells jingle at the back of the stand, and a red leg waved over it, then a black one. So, very slowly, Rahere the King's Jester straddled the edge of the planks, and looked down on us, rubbing his chin. Loose-knit, with cropped hair, and a sad priest's face, under his cockscomb cap, that he could twist like a strip of wet leather. His eyes were hollow-set.