Now
when the button was undone and the leash uncast the peregrine
dashed off with a whir of her sharp-pointed wings, whizzing round
in a great ascending circle which mounted swiftly upward, growing
ever smaller as she approached that lofty point where, a mere
speck in the sky, the heron sought escape from its enemies. Still
higher and higher the two birds mounted, while the horsemen, their
faces upturned, strained their eyes in their efforts to follow
them.
"She rings! She still rings!" cried the Bishop. "She is above
him! She has gained her pitch."
"Nay, nay, she is far below," said the King.
"By my soul, my Lord Bishop is right!" cried the Prince. "I
believe she is above. See! See! She swoops!"
"She binds! She binds!" cried a dozen voices as the two dots
blended suddenly into one.
There could be no doubt that they were falling rapidly. Already
they grew larger to the eye. Presently the heron disengaged
himself and flapped heavily away, the worse for that deadly
embrace, while the peregrine, shaking her plumage, ringed once
more so as to get high above the quarry and deal it a second and
more fatal blow. The Bishop smiled, for nothing, as it seemed,
could hinder his victory.
"Thy gold pieces shall be well spent, sire," said he. "What is
lost to the Church is gained by the loser."
But a most unlooked-for chance deprived the Bishop's altar cloth
of its costly mending.
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