Very soon men, angry and afraid, came to drive him from the place.
He gained the village cross, and prayed them for love of the
Saviour and His holy Rood to give him bread for his little maid and
her mother. Let them set it in the street, he would take it and
cross no man's threshold. Surely they could not; for shame, let a
little child die of want?
"Nay, 'tis better they die, so are we safe," cried a voice; then
they fell upon him and beat him, and drove him from the village
with blows and curses.
Bruised and panting, he ran from them, and at last the chase
ceased; breathless and exhausted he flung himself under a hedge.
A hawk swooped, struck near him, and rose again with its prey.
Hilarius shuddered; but perhaps the hawk had nestlings waiting
open-mouthed for food? His little maid! His eyes filled with
tears as he thought of those who awaited him. He picked up a
stone, and watched if perchance a coney might show itself. He had
never killed, but were not his nestlings agape?
Nothing stirred, but along the road came a waggon of strange shape
and gaily painted.
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