t lady-dog. 'Oh, look!
The silly birds are going back to their own woods instead of ours, where
they would be safe.'

'Safe till it pleased you to kill them.' An old man, so tall he was
almost a giant, stepped from behind the clump of hollies by Volaterrae.
The children jumped, and the dogs dropped like setters. He wore a
sweeping gown of dark thick stuff, lined and edged with yellowish fur,
and he bowed a bent-down bow that made them feel both proud and ashamed.
Then he looked at them steadily, and they stared back without doubt or
fear.

'You are not afraid?' he said, running his hands through his splendid
grey beard. 'Not afraid that those men yonder'--he jerked his head
towards the incessant pop-pop of the guns from the lower woods--'will do
you hurt?'

'We-ell'--Dan liked to be accurate, especially when he was shy--'old
Hobd--a friend of mine told me that one of the beaters got peppered last
week--hit in the leg, I mean. You see, Mr Meyer _will_ fire at rabbits.
But he gave Waxy Garnett a quid--sovereign, I mean--and Waxy told Hobden
he'd have stood both barrels for half the money.'

'He doesn't understand,' Una cried, watching the pale, troubled face.
'Oh, I wish----'

She had scarcely said it when Puck rustled out of the hollies and spoke
to the man quickly in foreign words. Puck wore a long cloak too--the
afternoon was just frosting down--and it changed his appearance
altogether.

'Nay, nay!' he said at last. 'You did not understand the boy. A freeman
was a little hurt, by pure mischance, at the hunting.'

'I know that mischance! What did his Lord do? Laugh and ride over him?'
the old man sneered.

'It was one of your own people did the hurt, Kadmiel.' Puck's eyes
twinkled maliciously. 'So he gave the freeman a piece of gold, and no
more was said.'

'A Jew drew blood from a Christian and no more was said?' Kadmiel cried.
'Never! When did they torture him?'

'No man may be bound, or fined, or slain till he has been judged by his
peers,' Puck insisted. 'There is but one Law in Old England for Jew or
Christian--the Law that was signed at Runnymede.'

'Why, that's Magna Charta!' Dan whispered. It was one of the few history
dates that he could remember. Kadmiel turned on him with a sweep and a
whirr of his spicy-scented gown.

'Dost _thou_ know of that, babe?' he cried, and lifted his hands in
wonder.

'Yes,' said Dan firmly.

'Magna Charta was signed by John,
That Henry the Third put his heel up