"St. George," she said, "would scorn a sparrow, though, or else,
I fear, most noble Benedict, he shares not in the pride of his
mistress."

St. George cocked his head on one side, as if to receive the
compliment in a most befitting manner, and catching sight of a hand
upon the saddle, it rapidly dipped down its head and made a vicious
peck at the intruding fingers.

It was the hand of De la Zouch, and he withdrew with an ejaculation of
anger.

"There, Mistress Dorothy," he exclaimed, "did I not say the bird was
but imperfectly taught, and now see here;" and he ruefully pointed to
the bleeding finger.

Dorothy was so overcome by the tragic attitude Sir Henry assumed,
that instead of offering him her sympathy, she burst out into an
uncontrollable fit of laughter, in which the rest of the company
joined; and, burning with indignation, the unlucky knight hastened
away to join the group around the elder sister.

Having fallen behind, Dorothy and her companions had now to hurry
forward, for they learned by the blowing of the horns and signals of
Sir George Vernon that they were now close upon the scene of the day's
sport.

"Come, Doll," shouted the baron, "we are waiting for you; we are ready
to begin, and there are some strangers with whom I must acquaint you."