daughter by a former marriage, another a kinswoman.
Perronel was for passing by unnoticed; but Ambrose knew better; and Sir
Thomas, leaning on the pole, called out, "Ha, my Birkenholt, a forester
born, knowst thou any mode of bringing down yonder chestnuts, which
being the least within reach, seem in course the meetest of all."

"I would I were my brother, your honour," said Ambrose, "then would I
climb the tree."

"Thou shouldst bring him one of these days," said Sir Thomas. "But thou
hast instead brought us a fair maid. See, Meg, yonder is the poor young
girl who lost her father on Ill May day. Lead her on and make her good
cheer, while I speak to this good dame."

Margaret More, a slender, dark-eyed girl of thirteen, went forward with
a peculiar gentle grace to the stranger, saying, "Welcome, sweet maid!
I hope we shall make thee happy," and seeing the mournful countenance,
she not only took Aldonza's hand, but kissed her cheek.

Sir Thomas had exchanged a word or two with Perronel, when there was a
cry from the younger children, who had detected the wicker cage which
Perronel was trying to keep in the background.

"A daw! a daw!" was the cry. "Is't for us?"

"Oh, mistress," faltered Aldonza, "'tis mine--there was one who tamed it
for me, and I promised ever to keep it, but if the good knight and lady
forbid it, we will send it back."

"Nay now, John, Cicely," was Margaret saying, "'tis her own bird! Wot
ye not our father will let us take nought of them that come to him?
Yea, Al-don-za--is not that thy name?--I am sure my father will have
thee keep it."

She led up Aldonza, making the request for her. Sir Thomas smiled.

"Keep thy bird? Nay, that thou shalt. Look at him, Meg, is he not in
fit livery for a lawyer's house? Mark his trim legs, sable doublet and
hose, and grey hood--and see, he hath the very eye of a councillor
seeking for suits, as he looketh at the chestnuts John holdeth to him.
I warrant he hath a tongue likewise. Canst plead for thy dinner, bird?"

"I love Giles!" uttered the black beak, to the confusion and indignation
of Perronel.

The perverse bird had heard Giles often dictate this avowal, but had
entirely refused to repeat it, till, stimulated by the new surroundings,
it had for the first time uttered it.

"Ah! thou foolish daw! Crow that thou art! Had I known thou hadst such
a word in thy beak, I'd have wrung thy neck sooner than have brought
thee," muttered Perronel.