Albert Drawslot, who had just come up in terror for the young lady’s safety, broke out into loud encomiums upon Fitzallen’s strength and gallantry.  ’By ‘r Lady,’ said he, taking off his cap and wiping his sun-burnt face with his sleeve, ’well struck, and in good time!  But now, boys, doff your bonnets and sound the mort.’

The sportsmen then sounded a treble mort, and set up a general whoop, which, mingled with the yelping of the dogs, made the welkin ring again.  The huntsman then offered his knife to Lord Boteler, that he might take the say of the deer, but the Baron courteously insisted upon Fitzallen going through that ceremony.  The Lady Matilda was now come up, with most of the attendants; and the interest of the chase being ended, it excited some surprise that neither Saint 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 Saint 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 mooncalf 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 thrashed 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 abye his outrecuidance, were he the best, save one, in England.’

Gregory, who had now found more breath, cried, ’Help, an ye be men!  Save Lady Emma and her brother, whom they are murdering in Brokenhurst thicket.’

This put all in motion.  Lord Boteler hastily commanded a small party of his men to abide for the defence of the ladies, while he himself, Fitzallen, and the rest made what speed they could towards the thicket, guided by Gregory, who for that purpose was mounted behind Fabian.  Pushing through a narrow path, the first object they encountered was a man of small stature lying on the ground, mastered and almost strangled by two dogs, which were instantly recognised to be those that had accompanied Gregory.  A little farther was an open space, where lay three bodies of dead or wounded men; beside these was Lady Emma, apparently lifeless, her brother and a young forester bending over and endeavouring to recover her.  By employing the usual remedies, this was soon accomplished; while Lord Boteler, astonished at such a scene, anxiously inquired at Saint Clere the meaning of what he saw, and whether more danger was to be expected.