“Good master,” said the boy appealing to the tutor, “didst mark that the stag fell not until he received my shot?”
“Ay! I noted it, lad, and ’tis a point well taken,” quoth Master Hugh. “But a truce to thy quibbling. Here are the huntsmen.”
The noise of the horns had been growing louder and louder as the hunting party drew near, but the boy and girl were so absorbed in their controversy that they had not heeded it.
“Fair maiden, there is a penalty,” began the lad, but one of the hunters called out:
“Beshrew me! if the quarry be not slain! What varlet hath done this?”
As Francis started forward the lad spoke,
“I, good my master. Give me thy knife, I pray thee, that I may make the essay.”
“What, ho, boy? Thou? Then instead of breaking the stag, thou shalt break the jail. Knowest thou not that it is trespass to kill deer upon the land of another?”
“He did it not,” cried Francis. “’Twas I. What is the penalty? My father, Lord William 16 Stafford, will requite the loss; but permit me, I pray, to take trophy of my skill.”
“Thou?” The foresters who had surrounded the youth looked with amusement at the girl, and then broke into loud guffaws.