ermined
to spend a morning by the river. He walked into Newnham, and made his
way to the ferry to watch the tide race up the river. Men, horses, and
dogs were coming across from Arlingham, as the verderers of the forest
had a great hunt fixed for that very day. Windybank, as a verderer,
should have remembered this, but weightier matters had driven it from
his mind.

There was plenty of bustle at the ferry; men were shouting, horses were
neighing, and hounds were baying. The townsfolk had come down to
welcome their friends from the other side, but no Newnham man
approached the master of Dean Tower. There was some whispering, some
furtive glancing in his direction, and the Arlingham folk cut him as
completely as did those of Newnham.

With his heart full of rage and malice, the young gentleman turned on
his heel and strode off up the street. He held his head defiantly
erect, and he gave scorn for scorn and shrug for shrug. From the open
window of "Ye Whyte Beare" a jolly, rolling peal of laughter told him
that young Morgan was within, and two boar-hounds tethered to the
doorpost proclaimed that the Blakeney yeoman purposed hunting other
game than the timid deer that day.

Higher up the street the angry man encountered a group of dark-haired,
sallow-faced miners who were taking a holiday, and a hiss of "Papist!
papist!" greeted him as he passed. His hand went to the hilt of his
dagger, but the fellows flourished their oaken cudgels within an inch
of his nose; so he contented himself with a counter hiss of "Insolent
dogs!" and went on.

Resolved to face his foes, Master Andrew walked the whole length of the
high street, although the road to Littledean branched off about halfway
up. This meant that he must pass Captain Dawe's cottage, which dainty
habitation he had not looked upon since the morning when his wooing had
been interrupted by the coming of his wounded rival. The angry colour
fled from his face, and his head sank lower and lower as he neared the
place. The sound of Dorothy's voice in the garden unnerved him
completely; shame swept over him like the swift river-tide that still
roared in his ears, his chin fell on his breast, and a ghastly pallor
whitened his cheeks. A sob broke from him as he bent low and hurried
by. He did not dare to snatch even a glimpse of the scene beyond the
hedge.

But he heard his name called in quick but quiet tones, "Master
Windybank! Master Windybank!" His heart alm