‘“Now we will judge the matter,” said Rahere. “Let these two brave knights go hang my fool because he warned King Henry against running after Saxon deer through woods full of Saxons. ‘Faith, Brother, if thy Brother, Red William, now among the Saints as we hope, had been timely warned against a certain arrow in New Forest, one fool of us four would not be crowned fool of England this morning. Therefore, hang the fool’s fool, knights!” ‘Mark the fool’s cunning! Rahere had himself given us order to hang the man. No King dare confirm a fool’s command to such a great baron as De Aquila; and the helpless King knew it. ‘“What? No hanging?” said Rahere, after a silence. “A’ God’s Gracious Name, kill something, then! Go forward with the hunt!” ‘He splits his face ear to ear in a yawn like a fish-pond. “Henry,” says he, “the next time I sleep, do not pester me with thy fooleries.” Then he throws himself out of sight behind the back of the stand. ‘I have seen courage with mirth in De Aquila and Hugh, but stark mad courage of Rahere’s sort I had never even guessed at.’ ‘What did the King say?’ cried Dan. ‘He had opened his mouth to speak, when young Fulke, who had come into the stand with us, laughed, and, boy-like, once begun, could not check himself. He kneeled on the instant for pardon, but fell sideways, crying: “His legs! Oh, his long, waving red legs as he went backward!” ‘Like a storm breaking, our grave King laughed,--stamped and reeled with laughter till the stand shook. So, like a storm, this strange thing passed! ‘He wiped his eyes, and signed to De Aquila to let the drive come on. ‘When the deer broke, we were pleased that the King shot from the shelter of the stand, and did not ride out after the hurt beasts as Red William would have done. Most vilely his knights and barons shot! ‘De Aquila kept me beside him, and I saw no more of Hugh till evening. We two had a little hut of boughs by the camp, where I went to wash me before the great supper, and in the dusk I heard Hugh on the couch. ‘“Wearied, Hugh?” said I. ‘“A little,” he says. “I have driven Saxon deer all day for a Norman King, and there is enough of Earl Godwin’s blood left in me to sicken at the work. Wait awhile with the torch.” ‘I waited then, and I thought I heard him sob.’ ‘Poor Hugh! Was he so tired?’ said Una. ‘Hobden says beating is hard work sometimes.’ ‘I think this tale is getting like the woods,’ said Dan, ‘darker and twistier every minute.’ Sir Richard had walked as he talked, and though the children thought they knew the woods well enough, they felt a little lost. ‘A dark tale enough,’ says Sir Richard, ‘but the end was not all black. When we had washed, we went to wait on the King at meat in the great pavilion. Just before the trumpets blew for the Entry--all the guests upstanding--long Rahere comes posturing up to Hugh, and strikes him with his bauble-bladder.