CHAPTER IX

Margaret cut off a huge piece of venison, and ran to the window and
threw it out to the green eyes of fire. They darted on to it with a
savage snarl; and there was a sound of rending and crunching: at this
moment, a hound uttered a bay so near and loud it rang through the
house; and the three at the window shrank together. Then the leopard
feared for her supper, and glided swiftly and stealthily away with it
towards the woods, and the very next moment horses and men and dogs came
helter-skelter past the window, and followed her full cry. Martin and
his companions breathed again: the leopard was swift, and would not
be caught within a league of their house. They grasped hands. Margaret
seized this opportunity, and cried a little; Gerard kissed the tears
away.

To table once more, and Gerard drank to woman's wit: "'Tis stronger than
man's force," said he.

"Ay," said Margaret, "when those she loves are in danger; not else."

To-night Gerard stayed with her longer than usual, and went home prouder
than ever of her, and happy as a prince. Some little distance from home,
under the shadow of some trees, he encountered two figures: they almost
barred his way.

It was his father and mother.

Out so late! what could be the cause?