st a little brown falcon, very

fluffy and bedraggled, which she smoothed and fondled as she

walked. as she came out into the sunshine, alleyne noticed that

her light gown, slashed with pink, was all stained with earth and

with moss upon one side from shoulder to hem. he stood in the

shadow of an oak staring at her with parted lips, for this woman

seemed to him to be the most beautiful and graceful creature that

mind could conceive of. such had he imagined the angels, and

such he had tried to paint them in the beaulieu missals; but here

there was something human, were it only in the battered hawk and

discolored dress, which sent a tingle and thrill through his

nerves such as no dream of radiant and stainless spirit had ever

yet been able to conjure up. good, quiet, uncomplaining mother

nature, long slighted and miscalled, still bide, her time and

draws to her bosom the most errant of her children.

the two walked swiftly across the meadow to the narrow bridge, he

in front and she a pace or two behind. there they paused, and

stood for a few minutes face to face talking earnestly. alleyne

had read and had heard of love and of lovers. such were these,

doubtless--this golden-bearded man and the fair damsel with the

cold, proud face. why else should they wander together in the

woods, or be so lost in talk by rustic streams? and yet as he

watched, uncertain whether to advance from the cover or to choose

some other path to the house, he soon came to doubt the truth of

this first conjecture. the man stood, tall and square, blocking

the entrance to the bridge, and throwing out his hands as he

spoke in a wild eager fashion, while the deep tones of his stormy

voice rose at times into accents of menace and of anger. she

stood fearlessly in front of him, still stroking her bird; but

twice she threw a swift questioning glance over her shoulder, as

one who is in search of aid. so moved was the young clerk by

these mute appeals, that he came forth from the trees and crossed

the meadow, uncertain what to do, and yet loth to hold back from

one who might need his aid. so intent were they upon each other

that neither took note of his approach; until, when he was close

upon them, the man threw his arm roughly round the damsel's waist

and drew her towards him, she straining her lithe, supple figure

away and striking fiercely at him, while the hooded hawk screamed

with ruffled wings and pecked blindly in its mistress's defence.

bird and maid, however, had but little chance against their

assailant who, laughing loudly, caught her wrist in one hand

while he drew her towards him with the other.

"the best rose has ever the longest thorns," said he. "quiet,

little one, or you may do yourself a hurt. must pay saxon toll

on saxon land, my proud maude, for all your airs and graces."

"you boor!" she hissed. "you base underbred clod! is this your

care and your hospitality? i would rather wed a branded serf

from my father's fields. leave go, i say---- ah! good youth,

heaven has sent you. make him loose me! by the honor of your

mother, i pray you to stand by me and to make this knave loose

me."

"stand by you i will, and that blithely." said alleyne.

"surely, sir, you should take shame to hold the damsel against

her will."

the man turned a face upon him which was lion-like in its

strength and in its wrath. with his tangle of golden hair, his

fierce blue eyes, and his large, well-marked features, he was the

most comely man whom alleyne had ever seen, and yet there was

something so sinister and so fell in his expression that child or

beast might well have shrunk from him. his brows were drawn, his

cheek flushed, and there was a mad sparkle in his eyes which

spoke of a wild, untamable nature.

"young fool!" he cried, holding the woman still to his side,

though every line of her shrinking figure spoke her abhorrence.

"do you keep your spoon in your own broth. i rede you to go on

your way, lest worse befall you. this little wench has come with

me and with me she shall bide."

"liar!" cried the woman; and, stooping her head, she suddenly bit

fiercely into the broad brown hand which held her. he whipped it

back with an oath, while she tore herself free and slipped behind

alleyne, cowering up against him like the trembling leveret who

sees the falcon poising for the swoop above him.

"stand off my land!" the man said fiercely, heedless of the blood

which trickled freely from his fingers. "what have you to do

here? by your dress you should be one of those cursed clerks who

overrun the land like vile rats, poking and prying into other

men's concerns, too caitiff to fight and too lazy to work. by

the rood! if i had my will upon ye, i should nail you upon the

abbey doors, as they hang vermin before their holes. art neither

man nor woman, young shavel