eap--the water
is deep there."

They sprang to their feet and forward into the reeds. When they were
almost at the edge of the fire a shout told them that they had been
seen. Eve, the swift of foot, outpaced Hugh, and was the first to leap
into that circle of tall flames. She was through it! They were all
through it, scorched but unharmed. Thirty paces away was the little
point of land where nothing grew, for the spring tides washed it, that
jutted out into the waters of the Blythe, and, perhaps a hundred
to their right, the Claverings poured down on them, foot and horse
together.

Hugh caught his foot in a willow root and fell. Eve and Grey Dick sped
onward unknowing. They reached the point above the water, turned, and
saw. Dick slipped his bow from its case, strung it, and set an arrow on
the string. Hugh had gained his feet, but a man who had come up sprang,
and cast his arms about him. Hugh threw him to the ground, for he was
very strong, and shook himself free. Then he drew the short and heavy
sword that he wore, and, shouting out, "Make way!" to those who stood
between him and the little promontory, started to run again.

These opened to the right and left to let him pass, for they feared the
look in his eyes and the steel in his hand. Only young John Clavering,
who had leapt from his horse, would not budge. As Hugh tried to push
past him, he struck him in the face, calling out:

"We have caught the de Cressi thief! Take him and hang him!"

At the insult of the blow and words, Hugh stopped dead and turned quite
white, whereupon the men, thinking that he was afraid, closed in upon
him. Then in the silence the harsh, croaking voice of Grey Dick was
heard saying:

"Sir John of Clavering, bid your people let my master go, or I will send
an arrow through your heart!" and he lifted the long bow and drew it.

Sir John muttered something, thinking that this was a poor way to die,
and again the men fell back, except one French knight, who, perhaps, did
not catch or understand his words.

This man stretched out his hand to seize Hugh, but before ever it fell
upon his shoulder the bow twanged and Acour's retainer was seen whirling
round and round, cursing with pain. In the palm of his hand was an arrow
that had sunk through it to the feathers.

"You are right; that knave shoots well," said the Count to Sir John, who
made no answer.

Now again all fell back, so that Hugh might have run for it if he would.
But his