His friends watched him commence this perilous descent in dismay; but, though much alarmed, they were unable to follow him.
"Poor lad! I am fearful he has lost his senses," said Sherborne.
"He is what the King would call 'fey,' and not long for this world," replied Nicholas, shaking his head.
CHAPTER VIII—HOW KING JAMES HUNTED THE HART AND THE WILD-BOAR IN HOGHTON PARK.
Galloping on fast and furiously, Richard tracked a narrow path of greensward, lying between the tall trees composing the right line of the avenue and the adjoining wood. Within it grew many fine old thorns, diverting him now and then from his course, but he still held on until he came within a short distance of the chase, when his attention was caught by a very singular figure. It was an old man, clad in a robe of coarse brown serge, with a cowl drawn partly over his head, a rope girdle like that used by a cordelier, sandal shoon, and a venerable white beard descending to his waist. The features of the hermit, for such he seemed, were majestic and benevolent. Seated on a bank overgrown with wild thyme, beneath the shade of a broad-armed elm, he appeared so intently engaged in the perusal of a large open volume laid on his knee, that he did not notice Richard's approach. Deeply interested, however, by his appearance, the young man determined to address him, and, reining in his horse, said respectfully, "Save you, father!"
"Pass on, my son," replied the old man, without raising his eyes, "and hinder not my studies."
But Richard would not be thus dismissed.
"Perchance you are not aware, father," he said, "that the King is about to hunt within the park this morning. The royal cavalcade has already left Hoghton Tower, and will be here ere many minutes."
"The king and his retinue will pass along the broad avenue, as you should have done, and not through this retired road," replied the hermit. "They will not disturb me."