“He did it not,” cried Francis. “’Twas I. What is the penalty? My father, Lord William 16 Stafford, will requite the loss; but permit me, I pray, to take trophy of my skill.” 

16

 “Thou?” The foresters who had surrounded the youth looked with amusement at the girl, and then broke into loud guffaws. 

 “Heed her not, masters. Could a maiden do such a thing? She knows not of what she speaks.” 

 “Nay; give heed to me, I beseech you,” cried Francis, but the lad interrupted her. 

 “Permit it to be as I have said, mistress. If there be penalty, ’twere meeter for me to suffer it than for thee. Withdraw, I beseech you.” 

 “The boy is right,” said Hugh Greville. “It is no place for thee, Francis. I will speak to thy father concerning the matter. Meantime we can serve no good purpose here. Come!” 

 “No, no,” cried the girl trying vainly to make the foresters attend her. “’Twas I who killed the deer. It was not this lad.” 

 But the verderers paying no further attention to her words busied themselves about the cutting up of the deer. With a burst of angry tears Francis reluctantly permitted the tutor to lead her away. 

[A]

 While fools avoid one error they fall into the opposite one. 

 

17

CHAPTER II

THE SOLDIER GUEST

 Passing out of the park, Francis and her tutor came into the forest proper. One vast sea of woods rolled, a flood of green, over hill and valley onward and ever on till lost among the moors. Presently they ascended Stoney Cross Hill and there opened out one long view. On the northeast rose the hills of Winchester but the city was hidden in their valley. To the east lay Southampton by the waterside; and to the north, gleamed the green Wiltshire downs lit up by the sunlight. 

 Among the beeches but a short distance away 

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