Clere nor his sister made their
appearance. The Lord Boteler commanded the horns again to sound the
recheat, in hopes to call in the stragglers, and said to Fitzallen:
"Methinks St. Clere, so distinguished for service in war, should have
been more forward in the chase."
"I trow," said Peter Lanaret, "I know the reason of the noble lord's
absence; for when that moon-calf, Gregory, hallooed the dogs upon the
knobbler, and galloped like a green hilding, as he is, after them, I saw
the Lady Emma's palfrey follow apace after that varlet, who should be
trashed for overrunning, and I think her noble brother has followed her,
lest she should come to harm. But here, by the rood, is Gregory to answer
for himself."
At this moment Gregory entered the circle which had been formed round the
deer, out of breath, and his face covered with blood. He kept for some
time uttering inarticulate cries of "Harrow!" and "Wellaway!" and other
exclamations of distress and terror, pointing all the while to a thicket
at some distance from the spot where the deer had been killed.
"By my honour," said the baron, "I would gladly know who has dared to
array the poor knave thus; and I trust he should dearly aby his
outrecuidance, were he the best, save one, in England.
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