p's altar cloth of
its costly mending. The King's gerfalcon having struck down a rook, and
finding the sport but tame, bethought herself suddenly of that noble
heron, which she still perceived fluttering over Crooksbury Heath. How
could she have been so weak as to allow these silly, chattering rooks to
entice her away from that lordly bird? Even now it was not too late to
atone for her mistake. In a great spiral she shot upward until she was
over the heron. But what was this? Every fiber of her, from her crest to
her deck feathers, quivered with jealousy and rage at the sight of
this creature, a mere peregrine, who had dared to come between a royal
gerfalcon and her quarry. With one sweep of her great wings she shot up
until she was above her rival. The next instant--

"They crab! They crab!" cried the King, with a roar of laughter,
following them with his eyes as they bustled down through the air. "Mend
thy own altar-cloths, Bishop. Not a groat shall you have from me this
journey. Pull them apart, falconer, lest they do each other an injury.
And now, masters, let us on, for the sun sinks toward the west."

The two hawks, which had come to the ground interlocked with clutching
talons and ruffled plumes, were torn apart and brought back bleeding and
panting to their perches, while the heron after its perilous adventure
flapped its way heavily onward to settle safely in the heronry of
Waverley. The cortege, who had scattered in the excitement of the chase,
came together again, and the journey was once more resumed.

A horseman who had been riding toward them across the moor now quickened
his pace and closed swiftly upon them. As he came nearer, the King and
the Prince cried out joyously and waved their hands in greeting.

"It is good John Chandos!!" cried the King. "By the rood, John, I have
missed your merry songs this week or more! Glad I am to see that you
have your citole slung to your back. Whence come you then?"

"I come from Tilford, sire, in the hope that I should meet your
majesty."

"It was well thought of. Come, ride here between the Prince and me, and
we will believe that we are back in France with our war harness on our
backs once more. What is your news, Master John?"

Chandos' quaint face quivered with suppressed amusement and his one eye
twinkled like a star. "Have you had sport, my liege?"

"Poor sport, John. We flew two hawks on the same heron. They crabbed,
and the bird got free. But why do you