low it.

Besides, if he walked up the stream, he would baffle the English
dogs, for water leaves no scent; in short, collecting all his
energies, he strode rapidly up the brook.

But his strength was not equal to a sustained effort; the
excitement of the night had been too much for him; and after he had
traversed about a mile, he sat down to rest on the bank, and fell
into a dead faint.

The first beams of the rising sun had illuminated the horizon, the
very time at which poor Pierre was led forth to die, when an aged
Englishwoman, coming down to draw water at the spring, espied the
fainting youth.

She advanced to his side, and seemed moved by compassion as she
gazed upon the wounded, bloodstained form.

"How young he is, poor lad. Ought I to help him? Yes, it must be
right to do so. How the cry of hounds and men comes up the glen!"

"Wake up, wake up!" she cried, and sprinkled water upon his face.

He rose up as if from a deep sleep.

"Mother, what is it?"

"Come with me; I will give thee shelter."

His senses returned sufficiently for him both to comprehend her
meaning and his own danger, and he followed mechanically. Just
above, the waters of the stream, dammed up for the moment, had
formed a little pond, surrounded by trees, save on one side, where
was a little garden of herbs, and in its centre, close by the
stream, stood a humble cot.

It was built of timber; posts had been driven at intervals into the
ground, willow twigs had been woven in and out, the interstices
filled with the clay which was abundant at the edge of the
pond--and so a weather-proof structure had been built. There was no
chimney, only a hole in the roof for the smoke to escape, above the
place for the fire.

Within, the floor was strewn with rushes; there was a table, two or
three rough chairs made of willow, a few household implements.

At one extremity a curtain, made of skins of wolf or deer, was
drawn across the room, beyond which was a couch, a kind of box
filled with rushes and leaves, over which lay a blanket and
coverlets, of a softer material than one would have expected to
find in a peasant's hut of the period.

Many other little articles seemed to have been destined for a
prouder dwelling; but all besides betokened decent poverty. All was
clean, and there could be little danger of hunger in the
settlement, while the woods were full of game, and their little
fields were fruitful with corn.

Into this abode the ol