miserable where he was," said he.

"So is the beadle now," said I.

"The better the lesson for him," said Ludar.

There was no use arguing, so we trudged on some miles further till night
fell, and we took shelter again in a barn.

The next day, guiding ourselves chiefly by the river, we came to
Windsor, where I had much ado to hinder my comrade from going a-hunting
in her Majesty's forest. Had it not been that I persuaded him we might
almost reach Richmond that night, I think, for mere spite of the law, he
would have stayed.

As it fell out, we were far from reaching Richmond that night. For the
way was difficult with swamps and thickets, so that we were glad enough
to reach Chertsey by sundown. I was for spending what little remained
of my money at the inn, but this he would not hear of; so we took our
supper, and then, as the night was fine, slept in a field of hay. Sweet
lying it was too, and when early next day we plunged into the clear
river and refreshed out travel-stained limbs, we felt men again.

It was well on in the afternoon when we arrived at Richmond. We should
have been there sooner, but that my comrade was for ever calling a halt
or turning aside on some errand of chivalry. Mad enough I thought some
of them, but then he never asked me what I thought; and if ever I hung
back, he did what he needed without me. Yet whatever he did, it was to
help some one weaker than himself, and if my patience now and then
failed me, the honour I had for him grew, as I said, with every mile we
went.

I say it was afternoon when we reached Richmond. As we approached the
place my comrade's desire to see his guardian waxed cool, and he cast
about him for an excuse, if not to avoid going to the house, at least to
put it off till night. I proposed that we should rest ourselves under
the trees in the park, to which he agreed. But it was an unlucky move.
For we had not lain half an hour, enjoying the shade, and I half asleep,
when he started up with a "hist," and slipped an arrow into his bow.

At that moment a fine buck went by. He had not spied us while we lay
still, but the moment my comrade moved, he threw up his head and bounded
off. Yet not before a quick twang from Sir Ludar's bowstring had sent
an arrow into his quarter. "Are you mad?" cried I, in terror, "it is
the Queen's deer!"

"Follow! follow!" shouted Sir Ludar, who was every inch a sportsman.

I tried to hold him back, but he heeded me no m