Each man had
brought with him a good store of cold meat and a bottle of stout March
beer to stay his stomach till the homecoming. So when high noontide had
come they sat them down upon the soft grass, beneath a green and wide-
spreading hawthorn bush, and held a hearty and jovial feast. After
this, one kept watch while the others napped, for it was a still and
sultry day.
Thus they passed the time pleasantly enow, but no guest such as they
desired showed his face in all the time that they lay hidden there. Many
passed along the dusty road in the glare of the sun: now it was a bevy
of chattering damsels merrily tripping along; now it was a plodding
tinker; now a merry shepherd lad; now a sturdy farmer; all gazing ahead
along the road, unconscious of the seven stout fellows that lay hidden
so near them. Such were the travelers along the way; but fat abbot, rich
esquire, or money-laden usurer came there none.
At last the sun began to sink low in the heavens; the light grew red and
the shadows long. The air grew full of silence, the birds twittered
sleepily, and from afar came, faint and clear, the musical song of the
milkmaid calling the kine home to the milking.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202