And now after passing Holmesley Walk and the Wooton Heath, the
forest began to shred out into scattered belts of trees, with
gleam of corn-field and stretch of pasture-land between. Here
and there by the wayside stood little knots of wattle-and-daub
huts with shock-haired laborers lounging by the doors and
red-cheeked children sprawling in the roadway. Back among the
groves he could see the high gable ends and thatched roofs of the
franklins' houses, on whose fields these men found employment, or
more often a thick dark column of smoke marked their position and
hinted at the coarse plenty within. By these signs Alleyne knew
that he was on the very fringe of the forest, and therefore no
great way from Christchurch. The sun was lying low in the west
and shooting its level rays across the long sweep of rich green
country, glinting on the white-fleeced sheep and throwing long
shadows from the red kine who waded knee-deep in the juicy
clover. Right glad was the traveller to see the high tower of
Christchurch Priory gleaming in the mellow evening light, and
gladder still when, on rounding a corner, he came upon his
comrades of the morning seated astraddle upon a fallen tree.
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