nto the hall, and swiftly through it. There on the
desk in the window lay the pen he had flung down last night, but no
more; the letter was gone; and, as he turned away, he saw lying among
the wood-ashes of the cold stove a little crumpled ball. He stooped and
drew it out. It was his letter, tossed there after the reading; his
father had not taken the pains to keep it safe, nor even to destroy it.

CHAPTER IV

I

The company was already assembled both within and without Padley, when
Robin rode up from the riverside, on a fine, windy morning, for the
sport of the day. Perhaps a dozen horses stood tethered at the entrance
to the little court, with a man or two to look after them, for the
greater part of their riders were already within; and a continual coming
and going of lads with dogs; falconers each with his cadge, or
three-sided frame on which sat the hawks; a barking of hounds, a
screaming of birds, a clatter of voices and footsteps in the court--all
this showed that the boy was none too early. A man stepped forward to
take his mare and his hawks; and Robin slipped from his saddle and went
in.

* * * * *

Padley Hall was just such a house as would serve a wealthy gentleman who
desired a small country estate with sufficient dignity and not too many
responsibilities. It stood upon the side of the hill, well set-up above
the damps of the valley, yet protected from the north-easterly winds by
the higher slopes, on the tops of which lay Burbage Moor, where the
hawking was to be held. On the south, over the valley, stood out the
modest hall and buttery (as, indeed, they stand to this day), with a
door between them, well buttressed in two places upon the falling
ground, in one by a chimney, in the other by a slope of masonry; and
behind these buildings stood the rest of the court, the stables, the
wash-house, the bake-house and such like, below; and, above, the
sleeping rooms for the family and the servants. On the first floor,
above the buttery and the hall, were situated the ladies' parlour and
chapel; for this, at least, Padley had, however little its dignity in
other matters, that it retained its chapel served in these sorrowful
days not, as once, by a chaplain, but by whatever travelling priest
might be there.

* * * * *

Robin entered through the great gate on the east side--a dark entrance
kept by a porter who saluted him--and rode through