'"Uncle," said he (though he was a man grown, he called me Uncle), "those young Norman fools who shot at you this morn are saying that your beaters cried treason against the King. It has come to Harry's long ears, and he bids you give account of it.
There are heavy fines in his eye, but I am with you to the hilt, Uncle!"
'When the boy had fled back, Hugh said to me: "It was Rahere's witless man that cried, ''Ware Red William's arrow!' I heard him, and so did the Clerk of Netherfield."
'"Then Rahere must answer to the King for his man," said I.
"Keep him by you till I send," and I hastened down.
'The King was with De Aquila in the Grand Stand above Welansford down in the valley yonder. His Court - knights and dames - lay glittering on the edge of the glade. I made my homage, and Henry took it coldly.
'"How came your beaters to shout threats against me?" said he.
'"The tale has grown," I answered. "One old witless man cried out, ''Ware Red William's arrow,' when the young knights shot at our line. We had two beaters hit."
'"I will do justice on that man," he answered. "Who is his master?"
'"He's Rahere's man," said I.
'"Rahere's?" said Henry. "Has my fool a fool?"
'I heard the bells jingle at the back of the stand, and a red leg waved over it; then a black one. So, very slowly, Rahere the King's jester straddled the edge of the planks, and looked down on us, rubbing his chin. Loose-knit, with cropped hair, and a sad priest's face, under his cockscomb cap, that he could twist like a strip of wet leather. His eyes were hollow-set.
'"Nay, nay, Brother," said he. "If I suffer you to keep your fool, you must e'en suffer me to keep mine."
'This he delivered slowly into the King's angry face! My faith, a King's jester must be bolder than lions!
'"Now we will judge the matter," said Rahere. "Let these two brave knights go hang my fool because he warned King Henry against running after Saxon deer through woods full of Saxons.
'Faith, Brother, if thy Brother, Red William, now among the Saints as we hope, had been timely warned against a certain arrow in New Forest, one fool of us four would not be crowned fool of England this morning. Therefore, hang the fool's fool, knights!"
'Mark the fool's cunning! Rahere had himself given us order to hang the man. No King dare confirm a fool's command to such a great baron as De Aquila; and the helpless King knew it.
'"What? No hanging?" said Rahere, after a silence. "A' God's Gracious Name, kill something, then! Go forward with the hunt!"
'He splits his face ear to ear in a yawn like a fish-pond.
"Henry," says he, "the next time I sleep, do not pester me with thy fooleries." Then he throws himself out of sight behind the back of the stand.
'I have seen courage with mirth in De Aquila and Hugh, but stark mad courage of Rahere's sort I had never even guessed at.'
'What did the King say?' cried Dan.
'He had opened his mouth to speak, when young Fulke, who had come into the stand with us, laughed, and, boy-like, once begun, could not check himself. He kneeled on the instant for pardon, but fell sideways, crying: "His legs! Oh, his long, waving red legs as he went backward!"
'Like a storm breaking, our grave King laughed, - stamped and reeled with laughter till the stand shook. So, like a storm, this strange thing passed!
'He wiped his eyes, and signed to De Aquila to let the drive come on.
'When the deer broke, we were pleased that the King shot from the shelter of the stand, and did not ride out after the hurt beasts as Red William would have done. Most vilely his knights and barons shot!
De Aquila kept me beside him, and I saw no more of Hugh till evening. We two had a little hut of boughs by the camp, where I went to wash me before the great supper, and in the dusk I heard Hugh on the couch.
'"Wearied, Hugh?" said I.
'"A little," he says. "I have driven Saxon deer all day for a Norman King, and there is enough of Earl Godwin's blood left in me to sicken at the work. Wait awhile with the torch."
'I waited then, and I thought I heard him sob.'
'Poor Hugh! Was he so tired?' said Una. 'Hobden says beating is hard work sometimes.'
'I think this tale is getting like the woods,' said Dan, 'darker and twistier every minute.'
Sir Richard had walked as he talked, and though the children thought they knew the woods well enough, they felt a little lost.
'A dark tale enough,' says Sir Richard, 'but the end was not all black. When we had washed, we went to wait on the King at meat in the great pavilion. just before the trumpets blew for the Entry - all the guests upstanding - long Rahere comes posturing up to Hugh, and strikes him with his bauble-bladder.
'"Here's a heavy heart for a joyous meal!" he says. "But each man must have his black hour or where would be the merit of laughing? Take a fool's advice, and sit it out with my man. I'll make a jest to excuse you to the King if he remember to ask for you. That's more than I would do for Archbishop Anselm."
'Hugh looked at him heavy-eyed. "Rahere?" said he. "The King's jester? Oh, Saints, what punishment for my King!" and smites his hands together.
'"Go - go fight it out in the dark," says Rahere, "and thy Saxon Saints reward thee for thy pity to my fool." He pushed him from the pavilion, and Hugh lurched away like one drunk.'
'But why?' said Una. 'I don't understand.'
'Ah, why indeed? Live you long enough, maiden, and you shall know the meaning of many whys.' Sir Richard smiled. 'I wondered too, but it was my duty to wait on the King at the High Table in all that glitter and stir.
'He spoke me his thanks for the sport I had helped show him, and he had learned from De Aquila enough of my folk and my castle in Normandy to graciously feign that he knew and had loved my brother there. (This, also, is part of a king's work.)
