foot, and in another moment the two animals were rolling over and
over, locked together in the death grapple.

Once, twice, and thrice Sholto struck right and left. The rest of the
beasts, seemingly astonished by the sudden flank attack, turned and
fled. Then, pushing off a huge wounded brute which lay gasping out its
life in red jets upon the breast of the fallen man, he dragged James
Douglas back to the tree which had been their fortress and propped him
up against the trunk.

At the same moment a long wailing cry from the forest called the
wolves off. They retreated suddenly, disappearing apparently by magic
into the depths of the forest, leaving their dead in quivering heaps
all about the little bare glade where the unequal fight had been
fought.

Malise the Brawny flung down the wolf whose head had served him with
such deadly effect as a weapon against his brethren. The beast had
long been dead, with a skull smashed in and a neck dislocated by the
sweeping blows it had dealt its kin.

"Sholto! My Lord James!" cried Malise, coming up to them hastily. "How
fares it with you?"

"We are both here," answered his son. "Come and help me with the Lord
James. He has fallen faint with the stress of his armour."

After the disappearance of the wolves the unearthly brilliance of the
wild-fire gradually diminished, and now it flickered paler and less
frequently.

But another hail from Sholto revealed to Malise the whereabouts of his
companions, and presently he also was on his knees beside the young
Lord of Avondale.

Sholto gave him into the strong arms of Malise and stood erect to
listen for any renewal of the attack. The wise smith, whose skill as a
leech was proverbial, carefully felt James Douglas all over in the
darkness, and took advantage of every flicker of summer lightning to
examine him as well as his armour would permit.

"Help me to loosen his gorget and ease him of his body mail," said
Malise, at last. "He has gotten a bite or two, but nothing that
appears serious. I think he has but fainted from pressure."

Sholto bent down and with his dagger cut string by string the stout
leathern twists which secured the knight's mail. And as he did so his
father widened it out with his powerful fingers to ease the weight
upon the young man's chest.

Presently, with a long sigh, James Douglas opened his eyes.

"Where are the wolves?" he said, with a grimace of disgust. Sholto
told him how all that were left aliv