" So
saying, he quickened his pace, and the three comrades were soon
close to the straggling and broad-spread town which centered
round the noble church and the frowning castle.
It chanced on that very evening that Sir Nigel Loring, having
supped before sunset, as was his custom, and having himself
seen that Pommers and Cadsand, his two war-horses, with the
thirteen hacks, the five jennets, my lady's three palfreys, and
the great dapple-gray roussin, had all their needs supplied, had
taken his dogs for an evening breather. Sixty or seventy of
them, large and small, smooth and shaggy--deer-hound, boar-hound,
blood-hound, wolf-hound, mastiff, alaun, talbot, lurcher,
terrier, spaniel--snapping, yelling and whining, with score of
lolling tongues and waving tails, came surging down the narrow
lane which leads from the Twynham kennels to the bank of Avon.
Two russet-clad varlets, with loud halloo and cracking whips,
walked thigh-deep amid the swarm, guiding, controlling, and
urging. Behind came Sir Nigel himself, with Lady Loring upon his
arm, the pair walking slowly and sedately, as befitted both their
age and their condition, while they watched with a smile in their
eyes the scrambling crowd in front of them.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206