"Thank God, it yet stands!" said they both.

They descended, and plunged again into the wood which lay between them
and the goal; their theows, less perfectly trained, and perhaps less
ardent, fell slightly behind. They came upon the spot where they had
left the deer, not, however, with any intention of encumbering
themselves with the burden, as may be imagined. They looked, however,
at the tree where they had hung the carcase, and their eyes met each
other's.

"It is gone," said Alfgar, with bated breath.

They said no more, but continued their headlong course, until they had
reached an open glade by the side of a small stream. Here their dogs
became uneasy, and uttered low threatening growls.

The lads paused, then advanced cautiously, looking before and around.

Turning a corner round some thick underwood, they came suddenly upon a
sight which justified all their previous alarm.

A huge fire burned by the side of a brook, over which was roasting the
deer which they had killed. The light shone out in the gathering
darkness, and illumined the recesses of the bushes around, and the
faces of a large body of men reclining on the bank, or engaged in the
task of sharpening their arms while their supper was roasting. A
momentary glance told that they were Danes, thus advancing under the
shadow of the forest, to take their foes unawares. Their horses were
picketed around, and sentinels were evidently posted, to give the
first alarm of any danger.