n there appeared the sudden vision of a grey friar,
who thrust himself between the knight and Grimbeard, who were
fighting with their axes.

"Hold, for the love of God! Accursed be he who strikes another
blow."

"Thou hast saved the old villain's life, grey friar," said mad
Ralph, parrying a stroke of Grimbeard's axe, but this was but a
bootless boast, for the conflict was not one with knightly weapons,
but with those of the forest. The train of Herstmonceux were but
equipped for the hunt and in such weapons as they possessed the
outlaws were far better versed than they, for with boar spear or
hunting knife they often faced the rush of wolf or boar.

"Martin! Boy, thou hast saved the young fop.

"Dost thou yield, Norman, to ransom?"

"Yea, for I can do no better, but if this reverend young father
will but stand by and see fair play, I would sooner fight it out."

"Dead men pay no ransom, and they are not good to eat, or I might
gratify thee. As it is I prefer thee alive."

Then he cried aloud:

"Secure the prisoners. Blindfold them, then take them to the camp."

The fight was over. The prisoners, five in number, were
blindfolded, and in that condition led into the camp of the
outlaws; Martin keeping close by their side, intent upon preventing
any further violence from being offered, if he could avert it.

Arrived at the camp, the captives were consigned to a rough cabin
of logs. Their bandages were removed; a guard was placed before the
door, and they were left to their meditations.

They were only, as we have said, five in number. Six had escaped.
The others lay dead on the scene of the conflict.

Meanwhile, Ralph was puzzling his brains as to where he had seen
the grey friar before, who had so opportunely arrived at the scene
of conflict. He inquired of his companions, but their wits were so
discomposed by their circumstances and by apprehensions, too well
founded, for their own throats, that they were in no wise able to
assist his memory. Nor indeed could they have done so under any
circumstances.

It was but a brief suspense. The outlaws had but tended their own
wounded, washed off the stains of the conflict, refreshed
themselves with copious draughts of ale or mead, ere they placed a
seat of judgment for Grimbeard under a great spreading beech which
grew in the centre of the camp, and all the population of the place
turned out to see the tragedy or comedy which was about to be
enacted. Just as, in