lew like lightning along the path, back to
the steep rock. When he got to the fearful place, he stooped and looked
anxiously down the precipice. The moon, just risen in full majesty,
helped him. The Knight of Montfaucon, pale and bleeding, was half
kneeling against the rock; his right arm, crushed in his fall, hung
powerless at his side; it was plain that he could not draw his good
sword out of the scabbard. But nevertheless he was keeping the bear and
her young ones at bay by his bold threatening looks, so that they only
crept round him, growling angrily; every moment ready for a fierce
attack, but as often driven back affrighted at the majestic air by which
he conquered even when defenceless.

"Oh! what a hero would there have perished!" groaned Sintram, "and
through whose guilt?" In an instant his spear flew with so true an
aim that the bear fell weltering in her blood; the young ones ran away
howling.

The baron looked up with surprise. His countenance beamed as the light
of the moon fell upon it, grave and stern, yet mild, like some angelic
vision. "Come down!" he beckoned; and Sintram slid down the side of the
precipice, full of anxious haste. He was going to attend to the wounded
man, but Folko said, "First cut off the head and claws of the bear
which I slew. I promised to bring the spoils of the chase to my lovely
Gabrielle. Then come to me, and bind up my wounds. My right arm is
broken." Sintram obeyed the baron's commands. When the tokens of victory
had been secured, and the broken arm bound up, Folko desired the youth
to help him back to the castle.

"O Heavens!" said Sintram in a low voice, "if I dared to look in your
face! or only knew how to come near you!"

"Thou wert indeed going on in an evil course," said Montfaucon, gravely;
"but how could we, any of us, stand before God, did not repentance help
us? At any rate, thou hast now saved my life, and let that thought cheer
thy heart."

The youth with tenderness and strength supported the baron's left arm,
and they both went their way silently in the moonlight.

CHAPTER 18

Sounds of wailing were heard from the castle as they approached; the
chapel was solemnly lighted up; within it knelt Gabrielle, lamenting for
the death of the Knight of Montfaucon.

But how quickly was all changed, when the noble baron, pale indeed, and
bleeding, yet having escaped all mortal danger, stood smiling at the
entrance of the holy building, and said, in a lo