instant the creature had turned and the men were flying for their
lives; but he who had cast the rope lingered, uncertain what use
to make of his own success. That moment of doubt was fatal. With
a yell of dismay, the man saw the great creature rear above him.
Then with a crash the fore feet fell upon him and dashed him to
the ground. He rose screaming, was hurled over once more, and lay
a quivering, bleeding heap, while the savage horse, the most cruel
and terrible in its anger of all creatures on earth, bit and shook
and trampled the writhing body.

A loud wail of horror rose from the lines of tonsured heads which
skirted the high wall--a wail which suddenly died away into a
long hushed silence, broken at last by a rapturous cry of
thanksgiving and of joy.

On the road which led to the old dark manor-house upon the side of
the hill a youth had been riding. His mount was a sorry one, a
weedy, shambling, long-haired colt, and his patched tunic of faded
purple with stained leather belt presented no very smart
appearance; yet in the bearing of the man, in the poise of his
head, in his easy graceful carriage, and in the bold glance of his
large blue eyes, there was that stamp of distinction and of breed
which would have given him a place of his own in any assembly. He
was of small stature, but his frame was singularly elegant and
graceful. His face, though tanned with the weather, was delicate
in features and most eager and alert in expression. A thick
fringe of crisp yellow curls broke from under the dark flat cap
which he was wearing, and a short golden beard hid the outline of
his strong square chin. One white osprey feather thrust through a
gold brooch in the front of his cap gave a touch of grace to his