The King shuddered, as all could see. "I hunt," he said,--and it was
strange to see how he was almost apologetic,--"I hunt all animals
mercilessly, because through them the Prince my son was slain. I will
hunt them out of my kingdom, until not one remains. I will slay them
until the ground is soaked with their blood! Not an animal, save such
as are of use, shall exist in all my land. I will have no pets--no
singing birds. I hate them all!"

"Ay," said the Hermit, shaking his head sadly, "you hate them all! But
I love them all. And here they come to me. 'The sparrow hath found a
house and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young.' I will
protect them with my life. You dare not kill me, O King! Godless
though you are, once you were a Christian, and you know the meaning of
the words I spoke when I said that this was holy ground."

He drew from his bosom the iron Cross which he wore, and held it up
before the King.

The monarch shrank back and seemed to hesitate. Suddenly he wheeled
his horse and blew a blast upon his bugle. "Back!" he cried somewhat
bitterly. "We will not linger here for a paltry doe. Let us leave
this cursed wood and this crusty hermit. Back to our own demesne,
where we shall find sport enough, I dare say."

Once more he blew his horn and bounded forward out of the clearing; the
nobles after him, and the cowed, disappointed dogs trailing at the rear
with tails between their legs. John could not help feeling sorry for
them. Poor things! They at least knew no better.