Frank Cowper - The Captain of the Wight (Frank Cowper) - comprehensive, unabridged with the original illustrations - (Literary Thoughts Edition)

"Ay, and the quarry sees her. Look, Jasp, she has turned, and, by St Edmund, she'll cross my beauty! Listen to the sweet tinkle of her bells. How swift she mounteth. Ah! my little lady, thou knowest thy work well."

"I'll bet you my new riding-whip against your new set of bells, that my hawk strikes her first."

"Done!" cried Ralph eagerly.

The attention of the two boys was keenly fixed on the two birds, and they rode on, heeding nothing, the varlet who attended his young lords keeping well up with them.

"Hi! Master Jasper, look where thou goest," cried out the servant; "thou will ride down yon old man!"

Jasper was not best pleased at being interrupted in his view of the sport, and, glancing down, saw a man with a hood drawn over his head, and an old tattered gown on, who was with difficulty walking across the heath, attended by a young girl, meanly attired, but very modest and sweet-looking.

"Why, old man, wherefore crossedst thou my path? Didst not see the game toward? Fie, I should have thought an old man like you wouldst have known better!"

"Nay, fair gentleman, I did cross thy path purposely. I have lost my way, and am parlous footsore; so is this poor lass, my daughter; and I crave you of your kindness tell me where we may get shelter."

"Ay, that will my father right willingly give you. Go you on, keep the path over the common, and we shall follow you anon. Thou canst not miss thy way. Say young Master Jasper of Thruxton sent thee. Thou wilt meet with care enough there."

"Grammercy, fair young master; but I will not keep thee from thy sport to waste thy time hearing a poor man's thanks."

So saying, the man and the young girl continued their way.

Ralph had been looking on; he saw how weary the man was, and his generous young heart beat with pity. He rode after the strangers, and, dismounting, insisted on the poor man getting up and taking his daughter on the croup behind him. There was something in the manner of the wanderers which seemed to tell him they were not common people. The man was evidently much touched. He thanked the boy with quiet dignity, and accepted his offer with ready pleasure; while the large hazel eyes of the girl filled with grateful emotion. She gave him a shy glance, full of gratitude.

At this moment a loud shout of disappointment came from Jasper.

"By St Edmund, thy falcon hath risen above the heron, and will strike in another second!"

This was too much for Ralph. With a joyous bound he left the new-comers on his pony, and ran after his brother, just in time to see his gerfalcon give a swoop, and the next minute descend like a falling bolt right on to the doomed heron, who, however, with prompt instinct, turned up its long neck, and held its beak like a sword on which the falcon should impale itself.

"Gare beak, my beauty; strike him sideways. There, by all the saints, she has done it! There they come. Ah! Melampus; ah! Ringwood; heel, sir, heel!"

And the boy ran as hard as he could to the spot where the heron, still struggling, but feebly, was falling with the hawk's claws and talons fixed firmly in its back, and its strong beak pecking into its brain.

"Well done! well sped, brave bird!" cried Ralph joyously.

"Ay, but I have lost my riding-whip," said Jasper ruefully.

"Nay, Jasp, I will never take it; 'twas but in sport."

And thus the first flight of Ralph's gerfalcon ended. They recalled the goshawk, and with hawks hooded, jesses on legs, and fast on fists, they returned home, carrying the heron with them.

When the boys drew near home, talking volubly all the time, as boys do, and wondering whether the poor man and his daughter had reached the manor before them, they met Humphrey, who was returning from Salisbury with the tailor and the new horse.

Ralph descried them some way off, and darted away like a hare, before Jasper and the groom had guessed the cause of his flight. Breathless the boy ran up to Humphrey, and could scarcely pour out the torrent of questions, mingled with ejaculations of pleasure and admiration, with which he overwhelmed the varlet, so scant of breath was he.

The horse was certainly a beauty, and did great credit to the taste and judgment of the worthy Abbot of Quarr.

"Ay, certes 'tis a fine beast; but the main fault, to my mind, is that he's too much for thee, Master Ralph. 'Tis a mettlesome hackney, and I don't marvel that fat Prior of Christchurch wanted to part with him. He'll find a difference between thy light weight and that old round shaveling yonder."

"Tush! Humphrey, let me get on him, that's all--an I bring him not to reason, beshrew me for a dullard and walk-a-foot."

By this time Jasper and the other groom had come up, and they were loud in their praises of the new horse.

"My faith! Ralph, thou'rt in luck to-day," said Jasper, somewhat discontentedly. "Thy falcon hath beat mine, and now thou ownest a horse the best, well-nigh, to look at in our stables. Thou'rt a lucky wight, that thou art."

They were approaching the manor house, and as they came within sight of the old buildings, they saw the Abbot of Quarr coming out of the hall door with Lady Lisle.

"Humphrey, let me mount him," said Ralph eagerly, "before they see us. I'd wager a mark my lady mother would be astonished, and so would my right reverend Lord Abbot."

"Nay, Master Ralph, better let one of the stable knaves try him first; he's a bit fresh and mettlesome. Maybe thou wouldst not master him."

"Marry, Humphrey, thou'rt parlous cautelous. Nay, but I will mount him; he's mine. An thou dost not hold him, I will e'en vault on him as he is, and take my chance."

Humphrey, seeing how wilful his young master was, and fearing lest the horse should kick him if he tried to mount as he threatened, drew up and held the horse. The boy, with a little run, vaulted on to the back of his steed, which stood quite still, only turning his head round, and looking at his new master with wise, mild eye. When the boy was firmly seated, and had taken the reins in his hand, for the horse was bitted and bridled, although there was only a cloth over its back, he clapped his heels to the animal's side, and urged him to a trot.

The others all watched him, and wondered to see the boy, who had hitherto only ridden his pony, sit so well and masterfully on the fine animal's back. His seat was firm, and the grip of his knees strong.

The horse, unaccustomed to so light a weight, sprang forward with a plunge, for it was fresh, and had been worked but little lately. With eager excitement the boy urged it on to a canter, and clapped both heels to its sides. Nothing loth, the splendid animal threw up its head, gave a snort of answering joy, and broke into a long easy stride.

In another minute they had reached the approaching figures, and Ralph waved his cap with joyous triumph.

"Why, 'tis Ralph!" cried his mother, in amazement. "My son, have a care; 'tis a parlous great horse for so young a boy."

"Nay, fair lady," said the Abbot; "see how well he manageth him: there is naught to fear. He is a likely lad enough, and will make a fine brave present for me to give to my Lord Woodville. There is promise of a noble knight in that stripling. In sooth, he cometh of fair lineage."

Meanwhile the boy was galloping round the greensward in front of the house, talking to the horse all the while, patting his neck and mane, perfectly at home on the back of the animal, and radiant with joy.

As he came round again he drew up in front of his mother and the Abbot, and, reining in the horse, made a low reverence to them with his cap.

"Grammercy, my Lord Abbot, for thy right noble present; 'tis the most brave horse in all England, and I am right thankful to thee for thy gracious kindness," said the boy.