leaning against the wall, and showed a rude painting of a scraggy and
angular fowl, with very long legs and a spotted body.

"Was that," she asked, "like the bird which thou hast seen?"

Alleyne shook his head, smiling.

"No, nor any other bird that ever wagged a feather. It is most like a
plucked pullet which has died of the spotted fever. And scarlet too!
What would the gentles Sir Nicholas Boarhunte, or Sir Bernard Brocas, of
Roche Court, say if they saw such a thing--or, perhaps, even the King's
own Majesty himself, who often has ridden past this way, and who loves
his falcons as he loves his sons? It would be the downfall of my house."

"The matter is not past mending," said Alleyne. "I pray you, good dame,
to give me those three pigment-pots and the brush, and I shall try
whether I cannot better this painting."

Dame Eliza looked doubtfully at him, as though fearing some other
stratagem, but, as he made no demand for ale, she finally brought the
paints, and watched him as he smeared on his background, talking the
while about the folk round the fire.

"The four forest lads must be jogging soon," she said. "They bide at
Emery Down, a mile or more from here. Yeomen prickers they are, who tend
to the King's hunt. The gleeman is called Floyting Will. He comes from
the north country, but for many years he hath gone the round of the
forest from Southampton to Christchurch. He drinks much and pays little
but it would make your ribs crackle to hear him sing the 'Jest of Hendy
Tobias.' Mayhap he will sing it when the ale has warmed him."

"Who are those next to him?" asked Alleyne, much interested. "He of the
fur mantle has a wise and reverent face."

"He is a seller of pills and salves, very learned in humors, and rheums,
and fluxes, and all manner of ailments. He wears, as you perceive, the
vernicle of Sainted Luke, the first physician, upon his sleeve. May good
St. Thomas of Kent grant that it may be long before either I or mine
need his help! He is here to-night for herbergage, as are the others
except the foresters. His neighbor is a tooth-drawer. That bag at his
girdle is full of the teeth that he drew at Winchester fair. I warrant
that there are more sound ones than sorry, for he is quick at his work
and a trifle dim in the eye. The lusty man next him with the red head
I have not seen before. The four on this side are all workers, three
of them in the service of the bailiff of Sir Baldwin Redvers, and the
ot