one of the archers drew his sword with a sharp whirr of steel and stept
up to the lost man. The clerk hurried away in horror; but, ere he
had gone many paces, he heard a sudden, sullen thump, with a choking,
whistling sound at the end of it. A minute later the bailiff and four
of his men rode past him on their journey back to Southampton, the other
two having been chosen as grave-diggers. As they passed Alleyne saw that
one of the men was wiping his sword-blade upon the mane of his horse.
A deadly sickness came over him at the sight, and sitting down by the
wayside he burst out weeping, with his nerves all in a jangle. It was a
terrible world thought he, and it was hard to know which were the most
to be dreaded, the knaves or the men of the law.

CHAPTER V. HOW A STRANGE COMPANY GATHERED AT THE "PIED MERLIN."

The night had already fallen, and the moon was shining between the rifts
of ragged, drifting clouds, before Alleyne Edricson, footsore and weary
from the unwonted exercise, found himself in front of the forest inn
which stood upon the outskirts of Lyndhurst. The building was long and
low, standing back a little from the road, with two flambeaux blazing on
either side of the door as a welcome to the traveller. From one window
there thrust forth a long pole with a bunch of greenery tied to the end
of it--a sign that liquor was to be sold within. As Alleyne walked up to
it he perceived that it was rudely fashioned out of beams of wood, with
twinkling lights all over where the glow from within shone through the
chinks. The roof was poor and thatched; but in strange contrast to
it there ran all along under the eaves a line of wooden shields, most
gorgeously painted with chevron, bend, and saltire, and every heraldic
device. By the door a horse stood tethered, the ruddy glow beating
strongly upon his brown head and patient eyes, while his body stood back
in the shadow.

Alleyne stood still in the roadway for a few minutes reflecting
upon what he should do. It was, he knew, only a few miles further to
Minstead, where his brother dwelt. On the other hand, he had never seen
this brother since childhood, and the reports which had come to his ears
concerning him were seldom to his advantage. By all accounts he was a
hard and a bitter man.

It might be an evil start to come to his door so late and claim the
shelter of his roof. Better to sleep here at this inn, and then travel
on to Minstead in the morning. If his br