"DEAR LITTLE MER."
"Turn and turn, sister," said Sabrina, as she rode up. "You've had
sport enough with your great eagles. Suppose we go up to the hill, and
give my dear little Mer a cast-off?"
"Dear little Mer" was a merlin, that sate perched on her left wrist, in
size to the peregrines as a bantam cock to the biggest of chanticleers.
Withal a true falcon, and game as the gamest of them.
Why its mistress proposed changing the scene of their sport was that no
larks nor buntings--the merlin's special quarry--were to be met with by
the marsh. Their habitat was higher up on the ridge, where there was a
tract bare of trees--part pasture, part fallow.
To her sister's very reasonable request Vaga did not give the readiest
assent. The petted young lady looked, and likely felt, some little
vexed at her _tete-a-tete_ with Eustace Trevor having been so abruptly
brought to an end. It had promised to make that spot--amid reeds and
rushes though it was--hallowed to her, as another on the summit of a
certain hill, among hazels and hollies, had been made to her sister.
Whatever her thoughts, she showed reluctance to leave the low ground,
saying in rejoinder,--
"Oh! certainly, Sab. But won't you wait till the dogs have finished
beating the sedge?"
"If you wish it, of course. But you don't expect them to find another
heron?"
"No; but there may be a widgeon or wild duck. After such an easy
victory, I'm sure my pers would like to have another flight. See how
they chafe at their hoods and pull upon the jesses! Ah, my beauties!
you want to hear the _hooha-ha-ha-ha_ again--that do you."
"Oh! let them, then," said the more compliant Sabrina, "if the dogs put
up anything worth flying them at; which I doubt their doing. We've made
too much noise for that."
The conjecture of the sage sister proved correct. For the marsh,
quartered to its remotest corners, yielded neither widgeons nor wild
ducks; only moor-hens and water-rails--quarry too contemptible to fly
the great falcons at.
"Now," said Sabrina, "I suppose you'll consent to the climbing?"
Her motto might have been _Excelsior_; she seemed always urging an
uphill movement.
But there was no longer any objection made to it; and the canines being
called out of the sedge, all entered the forest, riders and followers
afoot, and commenced winding by a wood-path up the steep acclivity of
Ruardean's ridge.
When upon its crest, which they soon after reached, the grand panorama
already spoken of lay spread before their eyes. For they were on the
same spot from which the young ladies had viewed it that day when Hector
harassed the donkey. Neither of them bestowed a look upon it now; nor
did Sabrina even glance at that road winding down from the Wilderness,
off which on the former occasion she had been unable to take her eyes.
Its interest for her no longer had existence; he who had invested it
with such being by her side. Now she but thought of showing off the
capabilities of "dear little Mer," as in fondness she was accustomed to
call the diminutive specimen of the _falconidae_.
Ere long Mer made exhibition of her high strain and training--for the
little falcon was also a female--sufficient to prove herself neither
_tercel_ nor _haggard_. First she raked down a lark, then a corn
bunting; and at the third cast-off overtook and bound on to a
turtle-dove, big as herself. For all she speedily brought it to the
earth, there instantly killing it.
Just as she had brought this quarry to ground a cry was heard, which
caused interruption of the sport,--
"Soldiers!"
It was the falconer who so exclaimed; for now that they were
merlin-flying his services were scarce required, and one of his aids did
the whistling and whooping. Left at leisure to look around, his eyes
had strayed up the road beyond Drybrook, there to see what had called
forth his cry.
Instantly all other eyes went the same way, more than one voice
muttering in confirmation,--
"Yes; they're soldiers."
This was evident from their uniformity of dress--all alike, or nearly--
as also by the glancing of arms and accoutrements. Moreover, they were
in military formation, riding in file, "by twos"--for they were on
horseback.
At sight of them all thoughts of sport were at an end, and the hawking
was instantly discontinued. Mer, lured back to her mistress's wrist,
was once more hooded, and the leash run through the _varvels_ of her
jesses; while the falconer and his helps, with the other attendants,
gathered into a group preparatory to leaving the field.
Meanwhile, by no accident, but evidently from previous understanding,
Sir Richard Walwyn and Eustace Trevor had drawn their horses together,
at some distance from the spot occupied by the ladies, the knight
saying,--
"It's Wintour's troop from Lydney, I take it. What do _you_ think,
Master Trevor?"
"The same as yourself. Nay, more, I'm sure of it, now. That's my
cousin Rej at their head, on the grey mare, with the red feathers in his
hat. You remember them?"
"I do. You're right; 'tis he. Somebody beside him, though, who appears
to be in command. Don't you see him turn in his saddle, as though
calling back orders?"
"Yes, yes;" was the repetitive rejoinder, Eustace Trevor, despite his
late sojourn at Court, still retaining some of the idiomatic forms of
Welsh colloquy. "But who are those in the rear?" he added,
interrogatively.
His question had reference to a number of men afoot, neither in uniform
nor formation, who were seen coming behind the horse troop, pressing
close upon its heels. Women among them, too, as could be told by the
brighter hues and looser draping of their dresses.
"People from Mitcheldean," answered Sir Richard, "following the troop
out of curiosity, no doubt."
The knight knew better; knew that, but for himself, and some action he
had lately taken, the people spoken of, or at least the majority of
them, would not have been there. For, since his arrival at Hollymead,
he had made many excursions unaccompanied--save by his henchman,
Hubert--to Mitcheldean, Coleford, and other Forest centres, where he had
held converse with many people--spoken words of freedom, which had found
ready and assenting response. Therefore, as he now gazed at that crowd
of civilians coming on after the soldiers, though his glance was one of
inquiry, it was not as to who they were who composed it, but to make
estimate of their numbers, at the same time comparing it with the
strength of the troop.
There was no time left him to arrive at any exactitude. The horsemen
were on the way to Hollymead, for sure; and he must needs be there
before--long before them.
So the hawking party made no longer stay on Ruardean Hill, but a start
and return homeward--so rapid as to seem retreat; the understrappers and
other attendants wondering why it was so--all save Hubert.