“Said I not that the wench was shrewd?” asked Lord Stafford with a hearty laugh.
“Ay, my lord; and ’twas well said,” returned the guest. “My child, do you not see that I am attired as a soldier?”
“I crave forbearance,” faltered Francis in some confusion. “I did not notice thy dress, 23 but judged from thy manner. Nathless, priest or soldier, I give thee greeting. Prithee heed not mine error.”
“’Twas naught,” smiled Captain Fortescue. “It is to my praise that thou didst accost me as an holy man. My lord, methinks the maid will serve our purpose well.”
“I trow so,” answered Lord Stafford with a proud look. “She hath spirit and courage to a rare degree in a maid. I know no lad of her age that can equal her in hunting or hawking. No tercelet for her, but the fiercest goshawk that e’er seized quarry. How now, Francis?”
“My father, I knew that thou wouldst believe my skill,” said Francis eagerly. “Yet a lad did but now contend that he it was who shot a deer in the forest,” and she related the incident graphically.
“Beshrew me, I doubt not but that thine was the arrow that slew the buck, yet it contents me well that the lad should endure the penalty of the deed in thy stead. How now, Greville?” to the tutor. “Was the youth of noble birth?”
“Methought there seemed something of the 24 gentle in him, though he was but meanly garbed. Yet the apparel doth not always make the man,” answered Greville.
“Not always,” acquiesced Lord Stafford.
“He was not noble,” interjected Francis shortly. “Else he would not have claimed the deer. I would, good my father, that you compass his release, and let me take the consequences of my action. I killed the deer.”