Chapter 20 - Page 2

falconer--"Master Roland Graeme to
remain here, and I to return to Avenel!--Why, it cannot be--the child
cannot manage himself in this wide world without me, and I question if
he will stoop to any other whistle than mine own; there are times I
myself can hardly bring him to my lure."

It was at Roland's tongue's end to say something concerning the
occasion they had for using mutually each other's prudence, but the
real anxiety which Adam evinced at parting with him, took away his
disposition to such ungracious raillery. The falconer did not
altogether escape, however, for, in turning his face towards the
lattice, his friend Michael caught a glimpse of it, and exclaimed, "I
prithee, Adam Woodcock, what hast thou been doing with these eyes of
thine? They are swelled to the starting from the socket!"

"Nought in the world," said he, after casting a deprecating glance at
Roland Graeme, "but the effect of sleeping in this d--ned truckle
without a pillow."

"Why, Adam Woodcock, thou must be grown strangely dainty," said his
old companion; "I have known thee sleep all night with no better
pillow than a bush of ling, and start up with the sun, as glegg as a
falcon; and now thine eyes resemble----"

"Tush, man, what signifies how mine eyes look now?" said Adam--"let us
but roast a crab-apple, pour a pottle of ale on it, and bathe our
throats withal, thou shalt see a change in me."

"And thou wilt be in heart to sing thy jolly ballad about the Pope,"
said his comrade.

"Ay, that I will," replied the falconer, "that is, when we have left
this quiet town five miles behind us, if you will take your hobby and
ride so far on my way."

"Nay, that I may not," said Michael--"I can but stop to partake your
morning draught, and see you fairly to horse--I will see that they
saddle them, and toast the crab for thee, without loss of time."

During his absence the falconer took the page by the hand--"May I
never hood hawk again," said the good-natured fellow, "if I am not as
sorry to part with you as if you were a child of mine own, craving
pardon for the freedom--I cannot tell what makes me love you so much,
unless it be for the reason that I loved the vicious devil of a brown
galloway nag whom my master the Knight called Satan, till Master
Warden changed his name to Seyton; for he said it was over boldness to
call a beast after the King of Darkness----"

"And," said the page, "it was over boldness in him, I trow, to call a
vicious brute after a noble family."

"Well," proceeded Adam, "Seyton or Satan, I loved that nag over