another dropped
into the rear altogether.

They came to a rising ground, not sharp, but long; and here youth, and
grit, and sober living told more than ever.

Ere he reached the top, Dierich's forty years weighed him down like
forty bullets. "Our cake is dough," he gasped. "Take him dead, if you
can't alive;" and he left running, and followed at a foot's pace. Jorian
Ketel tailed off next; and then another, and so, one by one, Gerard ran
them all to a standstill, except one who kept on stanch as a bloodhound,
though losing ground every minute. His name, if I am not mistaken,
was Eric Wouverman. Followed by him, they came to a rise in the wood,
shorter, but much steeper than the last.

"Hand on mane!" cried Martin.

Gerard obeyed, and the mule helped him up the hill faster even than he
was running before.

At the sight of this manoeuvre, Dierich's man lost heart, and, being now
full eighty yards behind Gerard, and rather more than that in advance of
his nearest comrade, he pulled up short, and, in obedience to Dierich's
order, took down his crossbow, levelled it deliberately, and just as the
trio were sinking out of sight over the crest of the hill, sent the bolt
whizzing among them.

There was a cry of dismay; and, next moment, as if a thunder-bolt had
fallen on them, they were all lying on the ground, mule and all.

CHAPTER XXII

The effect was so sudden and magical, that the shooter himself was
stupefied for an instant. Then he hailed his companions to join him in
effecting the capture, and himself set off up the hill; but, ere he had
got half way, up rose the figure of Martin Wittenhaagen with a bent bow
in his hand. Eric Wouverman no sooner saw him in this attitude, than he
darted behind a tree, and made himself as small as possible. Martin's
skill with that weapon was well known, and the slain dog was a keen
reminder of it.

Wouverman peered round the bark cautiously: there was the arrow's point
still aimed at him. He saw it shine. He dared not move from his shelter.

When he had been at peep-ho some minutes, his companions came up in
great force.

Then, with a scornful laugh, Martin vanished, and presently was heard to
ride off on the mule.

All the men ran up together. The high ground commanded a view of a
narrow but almost interminable glade.

They saw Gerard and Margaret running along at a prodigious distance;
they looked like gnats; and Martin galloping after them ventre a terre.

The h