plains　of　freedom　which　he　sought。
  And　yet　another　outrage！　　It　was　bad　that　this　creature　should
  still　cling　so　tight　upon　his　back；　but　now　he　would　even　go　to
  the　intolerable　length　of　checking　him　and　guiding　him　on　the　way
  that　he　would　have　him　go。　　There　was　a　sharp　pluck　at　his　mouth；
  and　his　head　was　turned　north　once　more。　　As　well　go　that　way　as
  another；　but　the　man　was　mad　indeed　if　he　thought　that　such　a
  horse　as　Pommers　was　at　the　end　of　his　spirit　or　his　strength。　　He
  would　soon　show　him　that　he　was　unconquered；　if　it　strained　his
  sinews　or　broke　his　heart　to　do　so。　　Back　then　he　flew　up　the
  long；　long　ascent。　　Would　he　ever　get　to　the　end　of　it？　　Yet　he
  would　not　own　that　he　could　go　no　farther　while　the　man　still　kept
  his　grip。　　He　was　white　with　foam　and　caked　with　mud。　　His　eyes
  were　gorged　with　blood；　his　mouth　open　and　gasping；　his　nostrils
  expanded；　his　coat　stark　and　reeking。　　On　he　flew　down　the　long
  Sunday　Hill　until　he　reached　the　deep　Kingsley　Marsh　at　the
  bottom。　　No；　it　was　too　much！　　Flesh　and　blood　could　go　no
  farther。　　As　he　struggled　out　from　the　reedy　slime　with　the　heavy
  black　mud　still　clinging　to　his　fetlocks；　he　at　last　eased　down
  with　sobbing　breath　and　slowed　the　tumultuous　gallop　to　a　canter。
  Oh；　crowning　infamy！　　Was　there　no　limit　to　these　degradations？
  He　was　no　longer　even　to　choose　his　own　pace。　　Since　he　had　chosen
  to　gallop　so　far　at　his　own　will　he　must　now　gallop　farther　still
  at　the　will　of　another。　　A　spur　struck　home　on　either　flank。　　A
  stinging　whip…lash　fell　across　his　shoulder。　　He　bounded　his　own
  height　in　the　air　at　the　pain　and　the　shame　of　it。　　Then；
  forgetting　his　weary　limbs；　forgetting　his　panting；　reeking　sides；
  forgetting　everything　save　this　intolerable　insult　and　the　burning
  spirit　within；　he　plunged　off　once　more　upon　his　furious　gallop。
  He　was　out　on　the　heather　slopes　again　and　heading　for　Weydown
  Common。　　On　he　flew　and　on。　　But　again　his　brain　failed　him　and
  again　his　limbs　trembled　beneath　him；　and　yet　again　he　strove　to
  ease　his　pace；　only　to　be　driven　onward　by　the　cruel　spur　and　the
  falling　lash。　　He　was　blind　and　giddy　with　fatigue。
  He　saw　no　longer　where　he　placed　his　feet；　he　cared　no　longer
  whither　he　went；　but　his　one　mad　longing　was　to　get　away　from　this
  dreadful　thing；　this　torture　which　clung　to　him　and　would　not　let
  him　go。　　Through　Thursley　village　he　passed；　his　eyes　straining　in
  his　agony；　his　heart　bursting　within　him；　and　he　had　won　his　way
  to　the　crest　of　Thursley　Down；　still　stung　forward　by　stab　and
  blow；　when　his　spirit　weakened；　his　giant　strength　ebbed　out　of
  him；　and　with　one　deep　sob　of　agony　the　yellow　horse　sank　among
  the　heather。　　So　sudden　was　the　fall　that　Nigel　flew　forward　over
  his　shoulder；　and　beast　and　man　lay　prostrate　and　gasping　while
  the　last　red　rim　of　the　sun　sank　behind　Butser　and　the　first　stars
  gleamed　in　a　violet　sky。
  The　young　Squire　was　the　first　to　recover；　and　kneeling　by　the
  panting；　overwrought　horse　he　passed　his　hand　gently　over　the
  tangled　mane　and　down　the　foam…flecked　face。　　The　red　eye　rolled
  up　at　him；　but　it　was　wonder　not　hatred；　a　prayer　and　not　a
  threat；　which　he　could　read　in　it。　　As　he　stroked　the　reeking
  muzzle；　the　horse　whinnied　gently　and　thrust　his　nose　into　the
  hollow　of　his　hand。　　It　was　enough。　　It　was　the　end　of　the
  contest；　the　acceptance　of　new　conditions　by　a　chivalrous　foe　from
  a　chivalrous　victor。
  〃You　are　my　horse；　Pommers；〃　Nigel　whispered；　and　he　laid　his
  cheek　against　the　craning　head。　　〃I　know　you；　Pommers；　and　you
  know　me；　and　with　the　help　of　Saint　Paul　we　shall　teach　some　other
  folk　to　know　us　both。　　Now　let　us　walk　together　as　far　as　this
  moorland　pond；　for　indeed　I　wot　not　whether　it　is　you　or　I　who
  need　the　water　most。〃
  And　so　it　was　that　some　belated　monks　of　Waverley　passing　homeward
  from　the　outer　farms　saw　a　strange　sight　which　they　carried　on
  with　them　so　that　it　reached　that　very　night　the　ears　both　of
  sacrist　and　of　Abbot。　　For；　as　they　passed　through　Tilford　they
  had　seen　horse　and　man　walking　side　by　side　and　head　by　head　up
  the　manor…house　lane。　　And　when　they　had　raised　their　lanterns　on
  the　pair　it　was　none　other　than　the　young　Squire　himself　who　was
  leading　home；　as　a　shepherd　leads　a　lamb；　the　fearsome　yellow
  horse　of　Crooksbury。
  IV。　　HOW　THE　SUMMONER　CAME　TO　THE　MANOR　HOUSE　OF　TILFORD
  By　the　date　of　this　chronicle　the　ascetic　sternness　of　the　old
  Norman　castles　had　been　humanized　and　refined　so　that　the　new
  dwellings　of　the　nobility；　if　less　imposing　in　appearance；　were
  much　more　comfortable　as　places　of　residence。　　A　gentle　race　had
  built　their　houses　rather　for　peace　than　for　war。　　He　who　compares
  the　savage　bareness　of　Pevensey　or　Guildford　with　the　piled
  grandeur　of　Bodmin　or　Windsor　cannot　fail　to　understand　the　change
  in　manners　which　they　represent。
  The　earlier　castles　had　a　set　purpose；　for　they　were　built　that
  the　invaders　might　hold　down　the　country；　but　when　the　Conquest
  was　once　firmly　established　a　castle　had　lost　its　meaning　save　as
  a　refuge　from　justice　or　as　a　center　for　civil　strife。　　On　the
  marches　of　Wales　and　of　Scotland　the　castle　might　continue　to　be　a
  bulwark　to　the　kingdom；　and　there　still　grew　and　flourished；　but
  in　all　other　places　they　were　rather　a　menace　to　the　King's
  majesty；　and　as　such　were　discouraged　and　destroyed。　　By　the　reign
  of　the　third　Edward　the　greater　part　of　the　old　fighting　castles
  had　been　converted　into　dwelling…houses　or　had　been　ruined　in　the
  civil　wars；　and　left　where　their　grim　gray　bones　are　still
  littered　upon　the　brows　of　our　hills。　　The　new　buildings　were
  either　great　country…houses；　capable　of　defense；　but　mainly
  residential；　or　they　were　manor…houses　with　no　military
  significance　at　all。
  Such　was　the　Tilford　Manor…house　where　the　last　survivors　of　the
  old　and　magnificent　house　of　Loring　still　struggled　hard　to　keep　a
  footing　and　to　hold　off　the　monks　and　the　lawyers　from　the　few
  acres　which　were　left　to　them。　　The　mansion　was　a　two…storied　one；
  framed　in　heavy　beams　of　wood；　the　interstices　filled　with　rude
  blocks　of　stone。　　An　outside　staircase　led　up　to　several
  sleeping…rooms　above。　　Below　there　were　only　two　apartments；　the
  smaller　of　which　was　the　bower　of　the　aged　Lady　Ermyntrude。　　The
  other　was　the　hall；　a　very　large　room；　which　served　as　the　living
  room　of　the　family　and　as　the　common　dining…room　of　themselves　and
  of　their　little　group　of　servants　and　retainers。　　The　dwellings　of
  these　servants；　the　kitchens；　the　offices　and　the　stables　were　all
  represented　by　a　row　of　penthouses　and　sheds　behind　the　main
  building。　　Here　lived　Charles　the　page；　Peter　the　old　falconer；
  Red　Swire　who　had　followed　Nigel's　grandfather　to　the　Scottish
  wars；　Weathercote　the　broken　minstrel；　John　the　cook；　and　other
  survivors　of　more　prosperous　days；　who　still　clung　to　the　old
  house　as　the　barnacles　to　some　wrecked　and　stranded　vessel。
  One　evening　about　a　week　after　the　breaking　of　the　yellow　horse；
  Nigel　and　his　grandmother　sat　on　either　side　of　the　large　empty
  fireplace　in　this　spacious　apartment。　　The　supper　had　been
  removed；　and　so　had　the　trestle　tables　upon　which　it　had　been
  served；　so　that　the　room　seemed　bare　and　empty。　　The　stone　floor
  was　strewed　with　a　thick　layer　of　green　rushes；　which　was　swept
  out　every　Saturday　and　carried　with　it　all　the　dirt　and　debris　of
  the　week。　　Several　dogs　were　now　crouched　among　these　rushes；
  gnawing　and　cracking　the　bones　which　had　been　thrown　from　the
  table。　　A　long　wooden　buffet　loaded　with　plates　and　dishes　filled
  one　end　of　the　room；　but　there　was　little　other　furniture　save
  some　benches　against　the　walls；　two　dorseret　chairs；　one　small
  table　littered　with　chessmen；　and　a　great　iron　coffer。　　In　one
  corner　was　a　high　wickerwork　stand；　and　on　it　two　stately　falcons
  were　perched；　silent　and　motionless；　save　for　an　occasional
  twinkle　of　their　fierce　yellow　eyes。
  But　if　the　actual　fittings　of　the　room　would　have　appeared　scanty
  to　one　who　had　lived　in　a　more　luxurious　age；　he　would　have　been
  surprised　on　looking　up　to　see　the　multitude　of　objects　which　were
  suspended　above　his　head。　　Over　the　fireplace　were　the
  coats…of…arms　of　a　number　of　houses　allied　by　blood　or　by　marriage
  to　the　Lorings。　　The　two　cresset…lights　which　flared　upon　each
  side　gleamed　upon　the　blue　lion　of　the　Percies；　the　red　birds　of
  de　Valence；　the　black　engrailed　cross　of　de　Mohun；　the　silver　star
  of　de　Vere；　and　the　ruddy　bars　of　FitzAlan；　all　grouped　round　the
  famous　red　roses　on　the　silver　shield　which　the　Lorings　had　borne
  to　glory　upon　many　a　bloody　field。　　Then　from　side　to　side　the
  room　was　spanned　by　heavy　oaken　beams　from　which　a　great　number　of
  objects　were　hanging。　　There　were　mail…shirts　of　obsolete　pattern；
  several　shields；　one　or　two　rusted　and　battered　helmets；
  bowstaves；　lances；　otter…spears；　harness；　fishing…rods；　and　other
  implements　of　war　or　of　the　chase；　while　higher　still　amid　the
  black　shadows　of　the　peaked　roof　could　be　seen　rows　of　hams；
  flitches　of　bacon；　salted　geese；　and　those　other　forms　of
  preserved　meat　which　played　so　great　a　part　in　the　housekeeping　of
  the　Middle　Ages。
  Dame　Ermyntrude　Loring；　daughter；