which they had fallen. Cuthbert had leveled his crossbow, but had not
fired; he was watching with intense anxiety for a glimpse of the
bright-colored dress of the child. Soon he saw a horseman separate
himself from the rest and dash forward at full speed. Several arrows
flew by him, and one or two struck the horse on which he rode.

The animal, however, kept on its way.

Cuthbert leveled his crossbow on the low arm of a tree, and as the rider
came abreast of him touched the trigger, and the steel-pointed quarrel
flew true and strong against the temple of the passing horseman. He fell
from his horse like a stone, and the well-trained animal at once stood
still by the side of his rider.

Cuthbert leaped forward, and to his delight the child at once opened her
arms and cried in a joyous tone:

"Cuthbert!"

The fight was still raging fiercely, and Cuthbert, raising her from the
ground, ran with her into the wood, where they remained hidden until the
combat ceased, and the last survivors of the baron's band had ridden
past toward the castle.

Then Cuthbert went forward with his charge and joined the band of
outlaws, who, absorbed in the fight, had not witnessed the incident of
her rescue, and now received them with loud shouts of joy and triumph.

"This is a good day's work indeed for all," Cuthbert said; "it will make
of the earl a firm friend instead of a bitter enemy; and I doubt not