Nor were other expedients neglected. A fierce hound had been sent
into the hole near the roots of the tree by Gabriel Lapp, but after a short
absence he returned howling and terrified, nor could all the efforts of
Gabriel, seconded by a severe scourging with his heavy dog-whip,
induce him to enter it again.
When the hound had come forth, a couple of yeomen advanced to
enlarge the opening, while a third with a pick endeavoured to remove
the root, which formed an impediment to their efforts.
"They may dig, but they'll never catch him," observed Shoreditch, who
stood by, to his companions. "Hunting a spirit is not the same thing as
training and raising a wolf, or earthing and digging out a badger."
"Not so loud, duke," said Islington; "his majesty may think thy jest
irreverent."
"I have an arrow blessed by a priest," said Paddington, "which I shall let
fly at the spirit if he appears."
"Here he is--here he is!" cried Will Sommers, as a great white horned
owl, which had been concealed in some part of the tree, flew forth.
"It may be the demon in that form--shoot! shoot!" cried Shoreditch.
Paddington bent his bow. The arrow whistled through the air, and in
another moment the owl fell fluttering to the ground completely
transfixed; but it underwent no change, as was expected by the
credulous archer.
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