ure with fear,
believing that I had been born unlucky, that it held no good for me
who probably should end my days as a common soldier or a fisherman, or
mayhap in prison or on the gallows. From childhood I had suffered these
fits of gloom, but as yet this was the blackest of them that I had
known.

At length, the sun that had been hidden shone out and with its coming my
temper changed. I remembered that I who might so easily have been dead,
was sound, young, and healthy, that I had sword, bow, and armour of the
best, also twenty or more of gold pieces, for I had not counted them, in
the bag which my mother gave me with Wave-Flame. Further, I hoped that
my uncle would befriend me, and if he did not, there were plenty of
captains engaged in the wars who might be glad of a squire, one who
could shoot against any man and handle a sword as well as most.

So putting up a prayer to St. Hubert after my simple fashion, I pushed
on blithely to the crest of a long rise and there came face to face with
a gay company who, hawk on wrist and hound at heel, were, I guessed,
on their way to hunt in the Pevensey marshes. While they were still a
little way off I knew these to be no other than Sir Robert Aleys, his
daughter Blanche, and the King's favourite, young Lord Deleroy, with
their servants, and was minded to turn aside to avoid them. Then I
remembered that I had as much right to the King's Highway as they, and
my pride aiding me, determined to ride on taking no note of them, unless
first they took note of me. Also they knew me, for my ears being very
sharp, I heard Sir Robert say in his big voice:

"Here comes that young fisherman again. Pass him in silence, Daughter";
heard, too, Lord Deleroy drawl it, "It seems that he has been gathering
gear from the slain, and like a good chapman bears it away for secret
sale."

Only the lady Blanche answered neither the one nor the other, but rode
forward with her eyes fixed before her, pretending to talk to the hawk
upon her wrist, and now that she was rested and at ease, looking even
more beautiful than she had done on the day of the burning.

So we met and passed, I glancing at them idly and guiding my horses to
the side of the road. When there were perhaps ten yards between us I
heard Lady Blanche cry:

"Oh, my hawk!" I looked round to see that the falcon on her wrist had in
some way loosed itself, or been loosed, and being hooded, had fallen to
the ground where one of the dogs was