"And what did you do with the cart?"

"Hugh put on the smock again, and drove it outside the northern
gate, past 'Perilous Hall,' then gave the horse a cut or two of the
whip, and left it to find its way home to Woodstock if it could."

"A good thing you are here with your necks only their natural
length. The king's forester would have hung you all three."

"Only he couldn't catch us. We have led him many a dance before
now."

When the reader considers that killing the king's deer was a
hanging matter in those days, he will not think these young
Oxonians behind their modern successors in daring, or, as he may
call it, foolhardiness.

Martin was hungry, the smell of the pasty was very appetising, and
neither he nor any one else said any more until the pie had been
divided upon six wooden platters, and all had eaten heartily,
washing it down with repeated draughts from a huge silver flagon of
canary, one of the heirlooms of Herstmonceux; and afterwards they
cleansed their fingers, which they had used instead of forks, in a
large central finger glass--nay, bowl of earthenware.

"More drink, I have a jorum of splendid sack in you cupboard,"
cried their host when the flagon was empty.

"Now a song, every one must give a song.

"Hugh, you begin."
I love to lurk in the gloom of the wood
Where the lithesome stags are roaming,
And to send a sly shaft just to tickle their ribs
Ere I smuggle them home in the gloaming.

"Just the case with this one we have been eating. But that measure
is slow, let me give you one," said Ralph.

Come, drink until you drop, my boys,
And if a headache follow,
Why, go to bed and sleep it off,
And drink again tomorrow.

Martin began to fear that the wine was suffocating his conscience
in its fumes--and said:

"I must go now."

"We will all go with you."

"Magog won't let us out."

"Yes he will, we will say we are all going to Saint Frideswide's
shrine to say our prayers."

"The dice before we go."

"Throw against me," said Hugh to our Martin.

"I cannot, I never played in my life."

"Then the sooner you begin the better.

"Here, roaring Ralph, this innocent young acolyte says he has never
touched the dice."

"Then the sooner he begins the better.

"Come, stake a mark against me."

"He hasn't got one."

Shame, false shame, conquered Martin's repugnance. He threw one of
his few coins down, and Ralph did the same.

"You throw first--six and four--ten. Here goes--I h