range things befell in minstead wood.

the path which the young clerk had now to follow lay through a

magnificent forest of the very heaviest timber, where the giant

bowls of oak and of beech formed long aisles in every direction,

shooting up their huge branches to build the majestic arches of

nature's own cathedral. beneath lay a broad carpet of the

softest and greenest moss, flecked over with fallen leaves, but

yielding pleasantly to the foot of the traveller. the track

which guided him was one so seldom used that in places it lost

itself entirely among the grass, to reappear as a reddish rut

between the distant tree trunks. it was very still here in the

heart of the woodlands. the gentle rustle of the branches and

the distant cooing of pigeons were the only sounds which broke in

upon the silence, save that once alleyne heard afar off a merry

call upon a hunting bugle and the shrill yapping of the hounds.

it was not without some emotion that he looked upon the scene

around him, for, in spite of his secluded life, he knew enough of

the ancient greatness of his own family to be aware that the time

had been when they had held undisputed and paramount sway over

all that tract of country. his father could trace his pure saxon

lineage back to that godfrey malf who had held the manors of

bisterne and of minstead at the time when the norman first set

mailed foot upon english soil. the afforestation of the

district, however, and its conversion into a royal demesne had

clipped off a large section of his estate, while other parts had

been confiscated as a punishment for his supposed complicity in

an abortive saxon rising. the fate of the ancestor had been

typical of that of his descendants. during three hundred years

their domains had gradually contracted, sometimes through royal

or feudal encroachment, and sometimes through such gifts to the

church as that with which alleyne's father had opened the doors

of beaulieu abbey to his younger son. the importance of the

family had thus dwindled, but they still retained the old saxon

manor-house, with a couple of farms and a grove large enough to

afford pannage to a hundred pigs--"sylva de centum porcis," as

the old family parchments describe it. above all, the owner of

the soil could still hold his head high as the veritable socman

of minstead--that is, as holding the land in free socage, with

no feudal superior, and answerable to no man lower than the king.

knowing this, alleyne felt some little glow of worldly pride as

he looked for the first time upon the land with which so many

generations of his ancestors had been associated. he pushed on

the quicker, twirling his staff merrily, and looking out at every

turn of the path for some sign of the old saxon residence. he

was suddenly arrested, however, by the appearance of a wild-

looking fellow armed with a club, who sprang out from behind a

tree and barred his passage. he was a rough, powerful peasant,

with cap and tunic of untanned sheepskin, leather breeches, and

galligaskins round legs and feet.

"stand!" he shouted, raising his heavy cudgel to enforce the

order. "who are you who walk so freely through the wood?

whither would you go, and what is your errand?"

"why should i answer your questions, my friend?" said alleyne,

standing on his guard.

"because your tongue may save your pate. but where have i looked

upon your face before?"

"no longer ago than last night at the 'pied merlin,' " the clerk

answered, recognizing the escaped serf who had been so outspoken

as to his wrongs.

"by the virgin! yes. you were the little clerk who sat so mum in

the corner, and then cried fy on the gleeman. what hast in the

scrip?"

"naught of any price."

"how can i tell that, clerk? let me see."

"not i."

"fool! i could pull you limb from limb like a pullet. what

would you have? hast forgot that we are alone far from all men?

how can your clerkship help you? wouldst lose scrip and life

too?"

"i will part with neither without fight."

"a fight, quotha? a fight betwixt spurred cock and new hatched

chicken! thy fighting days may soon be over."

"hadst asked me in the name of charity i would have given

freely," cried alleyne. "as it stands, not one farthing shall

you have with my free will, and when i see my brother. the

socman of minstead, he will raise hue and cry from vill to vill,

from hundred to hundred, until you are taken as a common robber

and a scourge to the country."

the outlaw sank his club. "the socman's brother!" he gasped.

"now, by the keys of peter! i had rather that hand withered and

tongue was palsied ere i had struck or miscalled you. if you are

the socman's brother you are one of the right side, i warrant,

for all your clerkly dress."

"his brother i am," said alleyne. "but if i were not, is