n any material help, he kept
up the spirits of Sholto and of Lord James Douglas both by his brave
heart and merry speech, and still more by constantly finding them
something to do.

At the hour of even, one day after they had been a fortnight in the
country of Retz, the three Scots were sitting moodily on a little
hillock which concealed the entrance to their cave. The forest lay
behind them, an impenetrable wall of dense undergrowth crowned along
the distant horizon by the solemn domes of green stone pines. It
circumvented them on all sides, save only in front, where, through
several beaker-shaped breaks in the high sand dunes they could catch a
glimpse of the sea. The Atlantic appeared to fill these clefts half
full, like Venice goblets out of which the purple wine has been
partially drained. To right and left the pines grew scantier, so that
the rays of the sunset shone red as molten metal upon their stems and
made a network of alternate gold and black behind them.

The three sat thus a long time without speech, only looking up from
their tasks to let their eyes rest wistfully for a moment upon the
deep and changeful amethyst of the sea, and then with a light sigh
going back to the cleaning of their armoury or the shaping of a long
bow.

It chanced that for several minutes no sound was heard except those
connected with their labour, the low whistle with which the Lord James
accompanied his polishing, the _wisp-wisp_ of Malise's arms as he
sewed the double thread back and forth through a rent in his leathern
jack, and the rasp of Sholto's file as he carved out the finials of
the bow, the notched grooves wherein the string was to lie so easily
and yet so firmly.

Thus they continued to work, absorbed, each of them in the sadness of
his own thought, till suddenly a shadow seemed to strike between them
and the red light of the western sky. They looked up, and before them,
as it were ascending out of the very glow of sunset, they saw a woman
on a white palfrey approaching them by the way of the sea.

So suddenly did she appear that the Lord James uttered a low cry of
wonder, while Malise the practical reached for his sword. But Sholto
had seen this vision twice already, and knew their visitor for the
Lady Sybilla.

"Hold there!" he said in an undertone. "Remember it is as I said. This
woman, though we have no cause to love her, is now our only hope. Her
words brought us here. They were true words, and I believe th