This change of purpose, in all probability, saved the life of the handsome lad. As he turned from the woodlands on his right, and sought the fern-clad chase and plantations in which Clopton Hall is embosomed, a tall, fierce-looking man, clad in the well-worn suit of a ranger or forester, stepped from the thick cover. As he did so, the forester lowered a cross-bow, with which he had been taking a steady aim at the stripling, from his shoulder, and stood and watched him till he disappeared.
"Now the red pestilence strike him," said the man. "He has again escaped me. But an I give him not the death of a fat buck ere many days are over his head, may my bow-string be the halter that hangs me."
"Nay, comrade," said a second forester, at that moment coming forward, "believe me, 'tis better as it is; thou must e'en drop this business, and satisfy thy revenge by a less matter than murder. I half suspected thy intent, and, therefore, have I followed thee. Come," he continued, "thou must, I say, forgive the affront this lad has put upon thee."
"May the fiend take me then!" returned the ruffian.
"Nay, thou art most likely the property of St. Nicholas methinks. Whatsoever thou dost," said the other, "certainly he will catch thee by the back if thou should harm this youngster."
"Why, look ye," said his fellow. "Have I not reason for what I do? The varlet (who I shrewdly suspect hath an eye upon the deer) constantly haunts our woods. Not a nook, not a secluded corner, not a thicket but he knows of, and explores. At all hours of the day, and even at night, have I caught sight of him wandering alone. Sometimes I have seen him, lying along, book in hand, under a huge oak, in Fullbrook wood; at other times I have watched him as he stood in the twilight beside the brook, which flows through Charlecote Park. As often as I have tried to gain speech with and warn him from our haunts, he has been ware of me; plunging into the covert (nimble as a stag), so escaped.
"Once, however, I came warily behind him while he stood watching the deer as they swept along a glade in Fullbrook; and heard him repeating words which rivetted me to the spot, nay almost took from me the power of accosting him. Not, however, to be outworded by a boy, I pounced upon him."
"Go to!" said the other laughing, "then you collared him, I suppose, and took him off to the head-ranger to give an account of his trespass. Was't not so! Eh?"
"You shall hear," returned the ranger. "At first I felt too much respect to rebuke him. There was something in his look I could not away with. He seemed somewhat angered too at being molested and caught by surprise; and there was that in his eye which could look down a lion, methought. After awhile, however, I gave him some of my mind, threatened to report his trespass to the knight our master, and to give him a taste of the stocks, or the cage."
"Good," said his fellow, laughing. "You said well!"
"Nay, 'twas not so good either, as it turned out," said the ranger.
"How so?" inquired his comrade.
"Why, he took my rebuke mildly at first, merely saying he sought not to molest the game, but only to enjoy the liberty, freedom, and leisure of the wild woods."
"Well," interrupted the other, "between ourselves, that seems natural enough. But, an all the lads in the country were to do the same, they would soon drive the deer from their haunts, and render our trade a poor one."
"So I told him; and that I should not be so easy the next time I caught him straying in our woods. Nay, that I would then, indeed, cudgel him like a dog."
"Ha! ha! and how took he that threat?"
"Mass! I would you could have seen how he took it," said the irate ranger, "for I shall never forget the change it wrought. He looked at me with an eye of fire, reared himself up like a startled steed, and railed on me in such terms as I think never man either heard or spoke before. Nay, an I had not known he was the son of a trader here in Stratford, I had taken him for the heir of some grandee, for never heard I before such a tongue, or such words of fire."
"Go to!" said the other; "and how answered ye that?"
"At first I felt awed; but, when he dared me but to raise a finger in the way of assault, and stirred my wrath so, that I laid hands on him, he struck me to the earth; when I rose, and again attacked him, despite my skill at quarter-staff, he cudgelled me to his heart's content."
"What, yonder lad?"
"Ay, yonder boy! His strength and skill were so great that, had I not cried peccavi, I had died under his blows."
"And for this you are resolved to shoot him!"
"I am! I cannot forget the disgrace of his quarter-staff. My very bones ache now at the bare remembrance."
"Aye, but thou must forget it, comrade," said the other; "for to shoot him, look ye, might get the rangers all into trouble. He hath, you see, gone out of our bounds this morning; but let us follow, and if we find him we will both beat him. As far as that goes, I am your man. 'Tis allowable, and in the way of business. But for shooting the lad—fie on't! 'tis cowardly and dangerous. Ever while you live, forbear your bullet on a defenceless person."
"Well, be it so!" said his fellow. "I agree. He hath had the best of me, for once in his life. But, at least, will I be revenged:—blow for blow."
"Hath he good friends, said ye?"
"None of note."
"What then is his father?"
"The wool-comber who dwells in Henley Street."
"Enough! Now let us but catch him, and by 'r lady, we'll beat him so that he shall scarce disport his curiosity amongst our woods again."
"Nay, but if we kill him?" said the other, with a sneer.
"Then must our master bear us out; we are hired to keep off all lurking knaves. By fair means or foul, it must be done. An we kill him, we'll e'en knock over a buck, and lay it to's charge. Swear we caught him red-handed in the fact, and there an end."
CHAPTER II.
THE YOUTHFUL SHAKESPEARE.
About a couple of hours after the above conversation between the two rangers, the subject of it might have been seen lying along, "like a dropt acorn," book in hand, under cover of the thick belt of plantation skirting the grounds of Clopton Hall. Occasionally, his gaze would turn upon the huge twisted chimneys and casements of the building, just now beginning to show symptoms of life. The thin blue smoke mounted into the clear air, and the diamond panes of the windows glittered in the morning sun. At this period the sports of the field formed the almost daily avocation of the country gentlemen in England. Men rose with the sun, and with hawk and hound and steed commenced the day at once. Scarce was the substantial breakfast thought of till it had been earned in the free air, amidst the woods and glades. Accordingly, as our student lay perdue in the covert, he beheld the falconer of the household of Clopton with the ready hawk, the grooms with the caparisoned steeds, the coupled hounds, and all the paraphernalia of the field.
The family of the Cloptons were not altogether unknown to the youth, and the hall being only a mile from the town, Sir Hugh was a sort of patron of Stratford, and in constant intercourse with the inhabitants.
As his party had oft-times ridden through the streets, our hero had scarce failed to remark amongst the cavalcade a beautiful female