"I think it is the voice of a woman," Boduoc said. "Or maybe it is
one of the spirits of evil."

Beric during his stay among the Romans had lost faith in most of
his superstitions. "Nonsense, Boduoc! it was the cry of a woman; it
came from ahead. Maybe some woman returning late has been attacked
by wolves. Come along," he shouted, and he started to run, followed
reluctantly by his companion.

"Stop, Beric, stop!" he said in a short time, "I hear other sounds."

"So do I," Beric agreed, but without checking his pace. "My eyes
may be dull, Boduoc, but they are not so dull as your ears. Why,
don't you know the snarling of wolves when you hear them?"

Again the loud cry of distress came on the night air. "They have
not seized her yet," Beric said. "Her first cry would have been her
last had they done so. She must be in that hut, Boduoc, and they
are trying to get at her. Maybe her husband is away."

"It is wolves," Boduoc agreed in a tone of relief. "Since that is
all I am ready for them; but sword and spear are of no avail against
the spirits of the air. We must be careful though, or instead of
us attacking we may be attacked."

Beric paid no attention. They had as they passed the hut that
morning stopped for a drink of water there, and he saw now before
his eyes the tall comely young woman with a baby in her arms and
two children hanging to her skirts. In a short time they stood at
the edge of the little clearing by the side of the path. It was