Then Stutely arose from where he was lying. "A plague of such ill
luck!" quoth he. "Here have we abided all day, and no bird worth the
shooting, so to speak, hath come within reach of our bolt. Had I gone
forth on an innocent errand, I had met a dozen stout priests or a score
of pursy money-lenders. But it is ever thus: the dun deer are never so
scarce as when one has a gray goose feather nipped betwixt the fingers.
Come, lads, let us pack up and home again, say I."
Accordingly, the others arose, and, coming forth from out the thicket,
they all turned their toes back again to Sherwood. After they had gone
some distance, Will Stutely, who headed the party, suddenly stopped.
"Hist!" quoth he, for his ears were as sharp as those of a five-year-old
fox. "Hark, lads! Methinks I hear a sound." At this all stopped and
listened with bated breath, albeit for a time they could hear nothing,
their ears being duller than Stutely's. At length they heard a faint and
melancholy sound, like someone in lamentation.
"Ha!" quoth Will Scarlet, "this must be looked into.
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