HE KILLED A DEER

Then spake Beltane 'twixt pallid lips:

"And do they hang men for killing deer in this country?"

"Aye, forsooth, and very properly, for, heed me, your ragged rogues be
a plenty, but a stag is a noble creature and something scarcer--
moreover they be the Duke's."

"By whose order was this done?"

"Why, the parchment beareth the badge of Sir Pertolepe, called the Red.
But look you, Sir Innocent, no man may kill a deer unless he be of
gentle blood."

"And wherefore?"

"'Tis so the law!"

"And who made the law?"

"Why--as to that," quoth Giles, rubbing his chin, "as to that--what
matters it to you or me? Pah! come away lest I stifle!"

But now, even as they stood thus, out of the green came a cry, hoarse
at first but rising ever higher until it seemed to fill the world about
and set the very leaves a-quiver. Once it came, and twice, and so--was
gone. Then Beltane trembling, stooped and caught up his long quarter-staff,
and seized the bowman in a shaking hand that yet was strong, and
dragging him from the ass all in a moment, plunged into the underbrush
whence the cry had come. And, in a while, they beheld a cottage upon
whose threshold a child lay--not asleep, yet very still; and beyond the
cottage, his back to a tree, a great hairy fellow, quarter-staff in
hand, made play against five others whose steel caps and ringed
hauberks glittered in the sun. Close and ever closer they beset the
hairy man who, bleeding at the shoulder, yet swung his heavy staff; but
ever the glittering pike-heads thrust more close. Beside the man a
woman crouched, young and of comely seeming, despite wild hair and
garments torn and wrenched, who of a sudden, with another loud cry,
leapt before the hairy man covering him with her clinging body and, in
that moment, her scream died to a choking gasp and she sank huddled
'neath a pike-thrust. Then Beltane leapt, the great sword flashing in
his grasp, and smote the smiter and set his feet upon the writhing body
and smote amain with terrible arm, and his laughter rang out fierce and
wild. So for a space, sword clashed with pike, but ever Beltane,
laughing loud, drave them before him till but two remained and they
writhing upon the sward. Then Beltane turned to see Giles o' the Bow,
who leaned against a tree near by, wide-eyed and pale.

"Look!" he cried, pointing with quivering finger, "one dead and one
sore hurt--Saint Giles save us, what have ye done? These be Sir
P