"They have lost her, and laid muzzled bloodhounds on her scent;
they will find her here, and the venison. Good-bye, friends, Martin
Wittenhaagen ends here."

Gerard seized his bow, and put it into the soldier's hands.

"Be a man," he cried; "shoot her, and fling her into the wood ere they
come up. Who will know?"

More voices of hounds broke out, and nearer.

"Curse her!" cried Martin; "I spared her once; now she must die, or I,
or both more likely;" and he reared his bow, and drew his arrow to the
head.

"Nay! nay!" cried Margaret, and seized the arrow. It broke in half: the
pieces fell on each side the bow. The air at the same time filled with
the tongues of the hounds: they were hot upon the scent.

"What have you done, wench? You have put the halter round my throat."

"No!" cried Margaret. "I have saved you: stand back from the window,
both! Your knife, quick!"

She seized his long-pointed knife, almost tore it out of his girdle, and
darted from the room. The house was now surrounded with baying dogs and
shouting men.

The glowworm eyes moved not.