Cedric, the Forester

  CHAPTER VI--WOLF'S HEAD GLEN

  I think that that spring morning whereon Cedric and I set out on theforest road to Coventry was the fairest that ever I have seen. The sunshone gloriously in the open glades and on the moorlands, and whiteclouds sailed aloft like racing galleons. The bird chorus among thelittle new leaves overhead was as the mingled music of harps and lutesand voices in the choir at Shrewsbury, and flowerets of blue and pinkand gold full gallantly bedecked the pathside and the brown forestfloor. Withal 'twas not a day for idleness and dreaming, for a chill airbreathed in the darker vales, and here and there in the deep woodlandsand on northern slopes a graying patch of snow yet lingered.

  Old William, a faithful archer of Mountjoy, rode with us as guide andcounsellor--this by the insistence of my father, Lord Mountjoy, who hada sorry lack of faith in the judgment and discretion of what he called"two half-broke colts" like Cedric and me.

  "I know full well," he had said when I broached the plan of riding theten leagues to Coventry to pay due respects to our kinsfolk ofMontmorency,--"that Cedric hath a wondrous skill and quickness with hiscross-bow, and that thou, Dickon, in thy sword-play, art not far behindmany a man that calls himself knight and soldier. You will be mountedwell; and mayhap, if danger beset, can fight or fly, saving whole skinsas on that day the Carletons hunted you in the woods of Teramore. Butall is not done by eyes and limbs, be they never so keen and skilled.Your veteran of three-score will step softly and dry-shod around thequagmire in which your hair-brained youth of sixteen plunges head andears."

  "Never fear, Father," I cried, "with William or without, we'll keepwhole skins. These are now full quiet days, and we ride for pleasure,not for brawling."

  "'Tis true," he answered slowly, "with the hanging of Strongbow, we nowhave the outlaw bands in wholesome fear; and the Carletons have raisedno battle cry since the fall. 'Tis like they have little will for itsince they were so sorely smitten at the siege and first the Old Wolfand later young Lionel received their just dues from us and ours. Theyhave no leaders now save the widowed lady and a fifteen-years old ladthat bears his father's name of Geoffrey and shall be Lord of Carleton.Mayhap we have before us some few years to build the fortunes of ourhouse without let or hindrance from any of that crew at Teramore. ButWilliam shall go with thee to Coventry, ne'ertheless, to see that thoumiss not the road and seek no useless brawls. Listen well to what hetells thee, and thou'lt make a safe return."

  Now all three of us had our cross-bows slung upon our backs; and I woreat my side the good Damascus blade which was my dearest pride. Wecarried in leathern pouches a store of bread and meat for the middaymeal; and William had made shift to shoot a moorfowl that he spiedrunning midst the gorse by the wayside.

  So, an hour past the noonday, we made camp by a fair stream, set a firealight to roast the bird, and feasted right merrily. As we sat about theembers, filled with the comfort of hunger well sated, I lifted up myvoice in a ballad of which I had many times of late made secretpractice. It went right merrily and clear; and when I had once sung itthrough Cedric and old William both urged me on to repeat it. When Isang again Cedric surprised me much, seeing the untaught forester thathe was, by joining me with a sweet, high contra-melody that wondrouslyenhanced the music; and old William too, after a few gruff trials, didbravely swell the chorus.

  Thus pleasantly occupied, and with our carol ringing through the vale,we heard no sound of hoofbeats, and I looked up with a start to see,passing along the path, fifty paces from our camp fire, three armed andmounted travelers.

  There were two stout men-at-arms, wearing the braced and quilted jacketsthat, against arrows or javelins, so well replace breastplates of steel,and armed with great two-handed broadswords and poniards. Between them,and a little to the fore, on a proudly stepping little gelding, rode ayouth of somewhat less than our own years, wearing an embroidered tunicof white and rose and a sword which hung in a scabbard rich with goldand gems.

  William snatched at the cross-bow which lay on the grass beside him; butthe strangers paid little heed to us, the men-at-arms but glancingsurlily in our direction. In a moment they had passed from sight, andthe forest was quiet again. For a little we talked of who they might beand what their errand was in these parts; but none of us could name anyof their party. We were now some eight leagues from Castle Mountjoy andmayhap three from Mannerley Lodge. It seemed not unlikely that thestranger youth might be of some party that visited the good lady ofMannerley, and that he was now riding abroad under the escort of two ofher stout retainers.

  The passing of the strangers, and the sour looks of the two men haddriven the carol from our minds; and we loosed our horses from thesaplings to which they had been tied, and soberly remounted to resumeour journey. It had been ten of the morning ere we left Mountjoy, and wehad come but slowly along the narrow forest paths. Now the sun was welldown in the West, and clouds were gathering darkly overhead. Williamurged us to make haste lest we be caught in the cold rain that heprophesied would be falling ere night. So we took the road again, and,after all our good cheer and merry chorusing, with our spirits strangelyadroop.

  We rode but slowly, for we had no wish to overtake the travelers. On ourwoodland roads, 'tis well to beware of strangers, especially when nightapproaches and one is not yet in sight of friendly castle walls. If theytoo made for Coventry, 'twas well, and we might follow them into thetown without exchanging words; and if their way lay elsewhere, we couldwillingly spare their company.

  A mile or so we rode in quietness. Then, coming to the top of a risewhere the path emerged from the woods and half a mile of open moor laybefore us, we beheld a sight which caused us to draw rein full suddenlyand to gaze again, under sheltering hands, at the place where the roadagain made into the forest. There were our three strangers in desperatefight with half a dozen men. The outlaws--for such they seemed--wereroughly clad in gray homespun and Lincoln green, and armed with bows andquarterstaves. They did swiftly run and dodge from behind one tree-trunkto another, evading the sword strokes of the horsemen and sending shaftafter shaft against them. Even as we gazed, an arrow pierced the quiltedjacket of one of the men-at-arms, or found a spot uncovered at thethroat, and brought him heavily to the ground.

  For one quick-throbbing moment I looked at Cedric, to spell, if I might,his thoughts at this juncture. Should we turn back ere the outlaws spiedus, and make good our 'scape in the forest? The band might be far largerthan it seemed; often a hundred or more of these robbers consorted underthe banner of some famous outlaw chief. If we went forward, we might butadd to the number of their victims.

  Then came the voice of old William, cracked and broken with his fear forour safety, and striving hard to stay us from an emprise which seemedcertain death:

  "Turn, Masters! Turn ere they sight us. We are too few and too lightlyarmed to face such numbers. An we go forward, they'll spit us with theirshafts like a roast at the fire. Come, Sir Dickon! Come, I pray thee. MyLord Mountjoy leans upon me to bring thee safe through. Back to thegreenwood while yet there's time."

  I uttered not a word, and firmly held my restive steed; but I saw inCedric's face no thought of flight nor care for life or limb,--ratherthe look of a noble hound that spies the frothing, tusker boar atslaughter of his comrades, and beseeches but the word that looses himagainst the monster's flank.

  And now Cedric's horse and mine sprang forward together. To this day Iknow naught of any settled thought of riding to the attack. Mayhap thelimbs that came to me as my heritage from a line of fighting men thatnever endured to see foul ambush and treachery have their way did movewithout any guidance and set the spurs against my horse's sides. Cedricrode the great war-horse which he had won from the Carleton; and thoughmy own mount was a fair tall stallion, half of Arab strain, the foresterdrew ahead on the rough pathway e'en while he drew his cross-bow cordand fitted bolt to groove. In a moment I had charged my weapon also; andthen I found old William by my side, his cross-bow in his hands and allhis protests forgotten.

  Now
the hoofs of our mounts thundered most sweetly on the sward, and forall the folly of our venture, I felt such an uplifting of the heart as Ihad known but once or twice before in all my life. As we neared the frayat the wood's edge, I shouted the battle cry of Mountjoy; and, my twocompanions joining with a will, we came down upon the varlets like atroop of armored horse.

  As we approached 'twas clear that the outlaws had all the better of thefight. One of the men-at-arms lay dead on the ground, and the otherthough still fighting blindly had twice been pierced by arrows in neckand face. The robbers had a chieftain who carried no bow, but a swordonly, and who had been ordering and cheering on his men while strikingno blow himself. Now the youth in the white tunic, who had received nohurt as yet, dashed toward him and struck full bravely with hisgolden-hilted sword, but wildly and in a way unskilled. The robber metthe blow with a twisting parry that struck the hilt from the boy's handand sent the blade whirling away into the underbrush; then leapingforward he seized the youth's shoulder and pulled him from his horse.

  _HE GAVE NO INCH OF GROUND SAVE TO LEAP FROM SIDE TO SIDEIN AVOIDING MY DOWNWARD STROKES_]

  Drawing rein at fifty yards, we all three let fly our bolts, Cedric andold William each bringing down his man. My own bolt flew wide of therobber captain because of my fear of striking the youth who was now hisprisoner. Then, dropping the bow, I betook me to a weapon more naturalto my temper, and, sword in hand, was instantly in combat with thechief. He pushed the boy behind him and gave me blow for blow; and,truth to tell, he handled his blade--the weapon of a knight andgentleman--with a skill far beyond that of any yeoman I had known. Ourblades flashed merrily in the sunlight that now streamed through a rentin the western clouds; and I lost all knowledge of the fray around us.

  I fought on horseback, and he on foot; but he gave no inch of groundsave to leap from side to side in avoiding my downward strokes. All histhrusts I managed to parry; but, somewhat with swordsmanship and morewith wondrous quickness of foot, he likewise foiled mine. Twice had Iessayed the best of all my tricks of fence only to fail in reaching mytall and nimble enemy.

  I was gathering my wits for another stratagem, the which might take himoff his guard, when suddenly, and to my great amaze, he leaped asidefrom my attack and sprang behind a tree trunk. From there he leaped toanother, farther in the forest; and so by running and hiding, quicklydisappeared in the greenwood.

  I looked about me, dizzied with the quickness of that which hadbefallen; and beheld a sight for tears and groaning. Both the strangermen-at-arms lay dead on the oak leaves amidst the bodies of five of theoutlaws who had been slain by their swords and our cross-bow bolts; and,lying with his shoulders half supported by Cedric's arms, was ourfaithful old William, his breast pierced by a cloth-yard shaft and hiseyes just closing in death.

  Cedric sadly laid down the body of our old retainer; and I thought itfitting to make a hasty prayer for his soul's peace. Then, as I rose,the stranger youth came forward haltingly. Methought he had a mostwinsome face, with honest eyes of blue and with brown and curling hair.I was about to offer some friendly greeting when our ears were affrayedby a loud blast of a hunting horn which came from a furlong's distancein the wood.

  Cedric's face changed instantly; and he grasped at my elbow.

  "Quick, Sir Dickon!" he cried. "Let us mount and away. Yon notes are thecall of the robber chief to all his band. They'll be here anon and slayus every one if we make not haste."

  "Come then," I answered, and, seizing the youth's hand in lieu of othergreeting, I drew him swiftly toward his horse, and mounting my own,wheeled back into the pathway. Cedric, with one bound, was on hishorse's back; but the stranger was slower in his movements, seemingmazed and like one in a dream with the suddenness of these turns offortune. I caught the bridle rein of his horse which had somewhatstrayed; and then indeed he came quickly forward and climbed to thesaddle. But a precious moment had been lost; and now, just as we emergedon the moor, there came a deadly flight of arrows from the wood. Thearchers were yet a hundred paces off; and low-hanging boughs did muchdeflect their shafts; but my horse was sorely stricken and reared andflung me to the earth. Another arrow struck mortally the stranger boy'sbay gelding, and a third pierced my doublet sleeve and drew a spurt ofblood.

  "Quick!" shouted Cedric. "Mount with me, both of ye. Quick for yourlives!"

  Reaching down, he fairly lifted the stranger to a place in front of him,while I seized his belt and madly scrambled up behind. Then the foresterset spurs to his horse's sides, and that splendid steed, despite histriple burden, was off with a bound.

  But now, alas! the outlaws were at the wood's edge. Another flight ofarrows whistled about our ears; and the stranger, with a groan, clappedhis right hand to his side and tried manfully to pluck away a shaftwhich was quivering there. His violent clutch served but to break thewood, and left the barb embedded in the flesh. Cedric threw one armabout him, lest he fall, and shouting to me to cling tightly to hiswaist, spurred madly on, blind to all but the path before him.

  The robbers came streaming from the wood, and seeing that our oneremaining horse was now burdened with the weight of three riders, dashedafter us on foot with the hope, not ill-founded, of overtaking andslaying us. Some of these men of the greenwood can leap and run verylike the deer they chase; and, had not our horse been the best andstrongest that ever I bestrode, they might have gained upon us on theopen heath enough to have made sure work of their archery.

  But momently we drew away from them; and none of their whizzing shaftsdid further harm. Indeed, had not Cedric been fain to check our speedlest our burdened mount stumble in the rough and treacherous pathway, wemight have shortly distanced them. As it was, we came again to theforest which we had left a quarter hour before, and the smoother roadbeneath the oak trees, with the shouting robber band a furlong behindus.

  Then for the first time spake the youth that rode so unsteadily beforeus. Deathly pale he was, and his voice like that of one on a sick-bed.

  "Masters," he murmured, "I fear my hurt is mortal, and you vainly riskyour lives for mine. Put me down, I pray you, on the oak leaves, that Imay die in peace, and you may 'scape with no more hurt."

  "That we will not," I cried, hotly. "We'll bear thee away to safety,spite of all. Look but now! We gain upon them. A quarter hour will seeus well beyond their reach."

  "I cannot bear it," he answered faintly. "I bleed full sorely, and Ineeds must rest." With that his color left him utterly; his blue eyestwitched and closed; he fainted, and but for Cedric's arm must surelyhave fallen.

  Cedric turned to me and whispered:

  "Save him we must, or we are no true men."

  "Surely we must save him," I echoed, "but how shall we compass it? If hehave not rest full soon and the dressing of his hurt, he will surelydie."

  "One chance there still remains," he answered softy, "though in theessay we give o'er our own near sight of safety. What say'st thou? Shallwe attempt it?"

  "With all my heart," I cried. "Shall we make stand in some rock crannyhereabouts?"

  To this the forester made no reply. We were riding down a slope toward awide but shallow stream which we must ford. The outlaws were hid fromview by the rise behind us, but we could still hear their shouts andknew that they had by no means given o'er the hope of reaching us.

  Midway in the current Cedric sharply pulled his horse's head to theright, and leaving the pathway utterly, spurred him at a trot up thesandy and pebbly bed of the stream. A turn soon hid the ford from view,and this not a moment too soon, for now again we heard the outlawscoming down the hill in hot pursuit. Cedric drew rein for an instant,and we heard them splashing through the shallows of the ford, and thentheir running feet on the path beyond. A bow-shot farther on we drew outfrom the stream bed and made better going in the open woods of a valleywhich led upwards toward the rocky hills to the northward.

  "Dost know this place?" I asked of Cedric.

  "Aye," he answered shortly, "'tis known as Wolf's Head Glen."

&nb
sp; Then we came to thicker wood growth; and he had much ado to guide thewar-horse safely in the tangle and to keep the boughs from the face ofthe stricken youth before him. Once more we entered the stream bed, andagain emerged where the forest was of older growth and had littleunderwood to check us. We had come a mile or more from the pathway whenof a sudden the forester drew rein and looked with care about him. Thenhe leaped down, leaving me to hold the wounded boy, and made his way upa rocky slope to a tangle of saplings and thorn bushes. These at onepoint he drew apart; then he disappeared, crawling on hands and kneesinto the darkness beyond.

  Speedily he returned; and now a glad and hopeful look was on his face."'Tis well," he said, "we yet will save him. Here is shelter and safehiding if I mistake not."

  He lifted down the boy, and together we bore him up the slope andthrough the narrow, thorny pathway. Beyond was a rocky cave with spaceenough for half a dozen men to lie on the beds of leaves the winds haddrifted in, though nowhere high enough to let one stand erect. The mouthwas safely covered by the growth of sapling trees and briers; and onemight pass at twenty paces and ne'er suspect it.

  We laid our burden on the leaves. The poor youth's face was so white andstill and his hands so cold that truly I thought we were too late andthat his spirit had fled. But Cedric stripped away the garments from thelad's breast and laid his ear against it. Then he rose and noddedbrightly.

  "He lives. We yet will save him. First let us make ready a bandage, thenpluck this shaft away and bind the wound."

  I quickly stripped me of a linen garment of which Cedric did make a softdressing and shield for the hurt. Then I held the quivering side whileCedric firmly drew away the arrow. As it came forth the boy gave apiteous groan and his eyes flickered open, but quickly closed again. Thebleeding started afresh, but the forester, with a wondrous deftness,applied the bandage and closely fastened it with strips that went aboutthe body and over the shoulders of the lad. Then we brought water in aniron cup which Cedric carried at his girdle, and bathed the boy's whiteface. Soon his eyes opened once more, and he asked for drink.

  When the lad's thirst was sated and he knew us again, Cedric stole outwith cross-bow drawn to make his way a little down the glen and see ifany of the robber band had trailed us. Seeing naught of them, he quicklyreturned and took our good steed and, first giving him to drink at thestream, tethered him in a close thicket half a furlong off where hemight browse in quiet and mayhap escape the notice of our enemies.

  An hour later we re-dressed our companion's hurt, using a poultice ofhealing leaves which Cedric had found by the brookside and crushedbetween stones. Soon the lad fell asleep, and though sometimes besetwith grievous pains and babbling dreams, did rest not ill for one whohad been so near to death.

  Cedric and I watched the night out, sitting with drawn bows at the cavemouth. The stars were bright, but there was no moon and little wind; andour talk was low lest after all some of the outlaws might be near. Halfin whispers he told me the story of the glen and its name. It seems thatan honest yeoman, John o' the Windle, who had been his father's friendin his youth, had had the mischance to quarrel with a sheriff's man,and, to save his own life, had pierced him with a cloth-yard shaft. ThenJohn Windle had fled to the forest and become a wolf's head, which isthe name the commonalty have for outlaws, since the killing of eitherwolves or outlaws may bring a bounty from the Crown. For years he hadlived in this very glen, with his hiding place in the cave known to buta few faithful friends. Often he was pursued to the little valley, butamong its woods and streams always shook off the sheriff's trailers andmade good his 'scape. Finally the legend grew that he was befriended byunseen powers and changed himself to a wolf whenever he crossed thelittle stream at the place where so many times his trail had been lost.Cedric's father, Elbert of Pelham Wood, had once brought him to thisspot to visit the outlaw after he had become old and was far gone in hislast sickness; and a few days later the two foresters had buried thewolf's head near the cave where he had lived.

  Just after dawn, Cedric, sitting at watch, pierced with a cross-bow bolta hare that was hopping through the underwood fifty paces off. Mostcautiously we built a little fire within the cave and roasted the meatfor our breakfast, we being of sharpest appetites through having eatennaught since the middle of the day before.

  Some of the tenderest bits we offered to the stranger, and he did try toeat, but with no avail for he grew dizzy when we raised him from hiscouch. Cedric's face grew grave at this, and soon he came and placed hishand upon the cheek and neck of the lad. What he found made him frownmost anxiously at me. The face of the wounded youth had now lost all itspaleness; 'twas flushed and something swollen and to the touch nearburning hot.

  "Sir Dickon," called Cedric, suddenly, "we must move him, and quickly,to where a leech can tend him. He hath a fever, and with it his woundwill not heal."

  "Can we issue from this wood by any other road than that on which weleft the robbers?" I questioned. "If so be, mayhap we can reach toMannerley Lodge."

  "There is a steep pathway higher in the glen that doth issue on WiltonRoad. If we gain that, 'tis not above two leagues to Mannerley."

  "Then let us go. I wager we meet not again with the outlaws. They everscatter and hide themselves after a fray like that of yesterday. Oursteed must carry three as before. 'Twill be but an hour's ride."

  Soon Cedric had returned from the thicket with the steed, we had liftedthe stranger as gently as might be, and, mounting also, were on our wayout of the forest. Now I rode in the saddle and held the boy in hisplace, and Cedric sat behind me with drawn cross-bow and bolt in groove.

  We met none to gainsay us, and soon emerged from the wood. For a quarterhour we made such speed as we might along the road to Mannerley. Thenall at once the youth's body grew limp in my arms, and I saw that againhis wound bled full sorely and that once more he yielded to a death-likefainting.

  I drew rein, and we dismounted, laying the boy on the leaves by the sideof a little brook. For anxious moments we knelt beside him, bathing hisforehead with the cold water, listening in vain for his heart-beats, andmuch in fear that his eyes would never reopen.

  _IN A TWINKLING, ARMED AND MOUNTED MEN WERE ALL ABOUTUS_]

  Then of a sudden we heard iron-shod hoofs on the roadway and a man'srough voice in surprise and angry threatening:

  "Hold! What have we here? By'r Lady! 'tis the Mountjoys!"

  In a twinkling, armed and mounted men were all about us; and with aheart like lead I recognized the Carleton livery. We could neither fightnor fly. Half a dozen stout men-at-arms leaped from their horses andrushed upon us. We had not struck a blow ere they overthrew us andwrenched our weapons from our hands. In a moment more my hands andCedric's were fast bound with halters like those of scurvy thieves thatgo to pay their penalty upon the gibbet.

  "Ha! Look but here!" cried the leader, whom I now saw to be none otherthan the man who had so sworn against us at the trial at Shrewsbury,"these are young Sir Richard and the forester that slew Sir Lionel butsix months gone. And now we come on them again red-handed. See _this_foul wickedness that they have done! What say you now? Shall we not ropethem up to yonder limb in requital?"

  "Aye, Aye! Let's hang them and quickly," cried another.

  "Men of Carleton," said I from where I lay upon the ground, "we are nomurderers. But if slay us ye must, let us at least have the death of menand soldiers. I am the heir of a noble house that yields no jot to anyCarleton; and my comrade here is a freeman of England with no smirch onhis name. 'Tis not fitting that ye visit on us the punishment ofthieves."

  "Ho!" jeered the leader, "hear the young hound of Mountjoy, now caughtin the sheepfold. 'Tis like if we listen to him that he and this Pelhamvarlet will yet concoct some plan to 'scape us. Quick, men! the halters!For we have other and sadder work to do."

  Then for a moment all the forest and the blue sky seemed to turn toblackness around me. There was a roaring in my ears like to that I heardwhen as a child I fell one day from the foot board over th
e waters ofthe mill race and came not up to breathe till I reached the other sideof the whirlpool below. Then from the midst of this reeling nightmare Iheard a voice, saying faintly:

  "Oh, Hubert! What dost thou here? And what do ye to these friends ofmine that they lie on the ground in bonds?"

  The stranger youth was sitting up on his leafy couch. His face was stilldeadly pale, but his eyes gleamed brightly.

  "Our Lady be thanked! He lives," muttered the leader of the men-at-arms,to my utter amaze doffing his headpiece before the stricken youth. Thenin answer:

  "Master Geoffrey, God be thanked, they have not murdered thee! But theseare Sir Richard of Mountjoy and the forester, Cedric, the very same thatdid to death thy brother, Lionel. Now we shall swing them from yonderoak limb. 'Twill heal thee faster to see thy enemies thus justlyserved."

  "Hubert, thou shalt not,--_on thy life_!" cried Geoffrey, his weak voiceshrill with passion, "be they Mountjoys or be they sons of Beelzebub,they are good men and true, and have over and again risked their livesfor mine. And I do verily believe that the tale they told at theShrewsbury trial was the truth, and that my brother brought his deathupon himself. Now cut those bonds,--and quickly."

  The soldier yet hesitated and muttered somewhat beneath his breath.

  "I tell thee, Hubert," broke out Geoffrey afresh, "thou shalt loosethem, and give them horses that they may ride safely to Mountjoy. Ifthou disobey me, verily I'll have thee beaten with rods and cast in thelowest dungeon of Teramore."

  Another of the men-at-arms now spoke aside to Hubert.

  "He is the Master, Hubert; and we must e'en obey. Forget not that, sincethe death of Lionel, young Sir Geoffrey is himself the Carleton."

  Hubert drew his dagger and came toward me. From the look on his uglyface I much misdoubted whether he meant to carry out the commands of hisyoung master or to stab me to the heart. But he quickly cut the ropethat bound my wrists, and then did a like service for Cedric.

  We stood erect and made our bows before the young Lord of Carleton.

  "Sir Geoffrey," said I, slowly, "thy house and mine have been bitterenemies; but glad am I to call thee friend. Wilt thou clasp hands intoken?"

  For answer his face lighted up with his most winsome smile, and heextended toward me his right hand in fellowship. To Cedric also he gavea clasp of such heartiness as he could compass, calling him the whilebrave rescuer and comrade. Then turning again to me, he said:

  "Sir Richard of Mountjoy, mount this horse of Hubert's here, which Ifreely give thee, while Cedric rides the good steed that bore us sobravely through the forest. My men shall make for me a litter of poles,with robes and garments slung between, and bear me to Mannerley. Therewill I bide till my wound is healed. Say to thy father, the Lord ofMountjoy, that I renounce all the vengeance that my father and mybrother swore against him, and that I extend to him also the hand offriendship. 'Twill please me well if, while I still lie at Mannerley, heand thou and Cedric come riding there and visit me. And so good-by withall my heart. May thou win safely home and Heaven's blessing followthee."

  Gladly we mounted and reined our horses' heads toward home. As we leftthe little glade we turned for one more look at the pale youth, lyinghalf prostrate on his couch of leaves; and our hearts did swell withgladness to know his life was safe and that no longer was he a strangeror an enemy. And once more we caught his winsome smile and the wave ofhis hand that bade us God speed.