‘“What? No hanging?” said Rahere, after a silence. “A God’s Gracious Name, kill something, then! Go forward with the hunt!”
‘He splits his face ear to ear in a yawn like a fish-pond. “Henry,” says he, “the next time I sleep, do not pester me with thy fooleries.” Then he throws himself out of sight behind the back of the stand.
‘I have seen courage with mirth in De Aquila and Hugh, but stark mad courage of Rahere’s sort I had never even guessed at.’
‘What did the King say?’ cried Dan.
‘He had opened his mouth to speak, when young Fulke, who had come into the stand with us, laughed, and, boy like, once begun, could not check himself. He kneeled on the instant for pardon, but fell sideways, crying: “His legs! Oh, his long, waving red legs as he went backward!”
‘Like a storm breaking, our grave King laughed,—stamped and reeled with laughter till the stand shook. So, like a storm, this strange thing passed!
‘He wiped his eyes, and signed to De Aquila to let the drive come on.
‘When the deer broke, we were pleased that the King shot from the shelter of the stand, and did not ride out after the hurt beasts as Red William would have done. Most vilely his knights and barons shot!
‘De Aquila kept me beside him, and I saw no more of Hugh till evening. We two had a little hut of boughs by the camp, where I went to wash me before the great supper, and in the dusk I heard Hugh on the couch.
‘“Wearied, Hugh?” said I.