"Nay, but you keep me warm," he said. "Tell me, are there oak trees
as one goes seaward?"

"Ay, many and great ones in some places."

Then he ran down the hill, and the sway of his even stride lulled
me so that I dozed a little. I roused when he stayed suddenly.

"Sit here, Oswald, for a moment, and fear nought while I rest me,"
he said in a strange voice.

We were halfway up a long slope and among fresh trees. Then he
lifted me and set me on the curved arm of a great oak tree, some
eight feet from the ground, asking me if I was safe there. And when
I laughed and answered that I was, he set his back against the
trunk, and drew his heavy seax, putting his staff alongside him,
where he could reach it at once if it was needed. It was light
enough, with the clear frosty starlight on the snow.

Then I heard the swift patter of feet over the crisp surface, and
the grey beast came and halted suddenly not three yards from us,
and on his haunches he sat up and howled, and I heard the answering
yells in no long space of time coming whence we had come. His eyes
glowed green with a strange light of their own as he stared at my
friend, and for a moment I looked to see him come fawning to his
master's feet.

Suddenly he gathered himself together, and sprung silently at the
throat of the man who waited him, and there was a flash of the keen