to amuse themselves in arousing it--a sport not quite so safe
for those of his own age.

Altogether of a different mould was the bright joyous son of an
ill-fated father; Hubert, son of Roger of Icklesham and Walderne. A
boy, a typical boy, a brave free-hearted noble one:

With his unchecked, unbidden joy,
His dread of books, and love of fun.

He was rapidly acquiring ease and dexterity in all the sports of
the tilt yard; the quintain had now no terrors for him, and he was
quite at home on horseback already. Naturally he was rising fast in
favour with his fellows, the only lad who seemed to stand aloof
from him being Drogo de Harengod.

Drogo was about a year older than Hubert, tall and dark, of a
haughty and intolerant disposition, and very "masterful," but, as
the old saw says:

Mores puerorum se detegunt inter ludendum.

So we will draw no more pen and ink sketches, but leave our
characters to show themselves by their deeds.

It was a pleasant evening in early autumn, and the scene was the
park of Kenilworth, some few months after the arrival of our two
pages at the castle. Half a dozen of the youthful aspirants to
chivalry, amongst whom were Drogo, Hubert, and Martin, gathered
under an oak occupying an elevated site in the park: they had
evidently just left the forest, for hares and rabbits were lying on
the ground, the result of a little foray into the cover.

"What a view we have here; one can see the towers of Warwick, over
the woods."

"And there is the line of hills over Keinton and Radway {9}."

"And there Black Down Hill."

"And there the spires of Coventry."

"Yes," said Drogo, "but it is not like the view from my uncle's
castle in the Andredsweald, over a far wilder forest than this of
Arden, with the great billowy downs for a southern bulwark. There
be wolves, yea, boars, and for lesser beasts of prey wildcats,
badgers, and polecats; while the deer are as plentiful as sheep."

"And where is that castle?" said Hubert.

"At Walderne; my uncle is Nicholas de Harengod, and some day the
castle will be mine."

Martin looked up with strange interest.

"What! Walderne Castle yours!"

"Yes, have you heard of it?"

"And seen it."

"Seen it?"

"Yes, afar off," said the lad dreamily, for Hubert gave him a
warning look.

"Even as a cat may look at a king's palace."

"But those woods are full of outlaws," said another lad, Louis de
Chalgrave.

"All the better; it will be rare sport to h