, maugre the anguish, and fled
towards the torches, moaning with pain, and shouting for aid. But what
could I do He gained on me. Behooved me turn and fight. Denys had taught
me sword play in sport. I wheeled, our swords clashed. His clothes
they smelled all singed. I cut swiftly upward with supple hand, and his
dangled bleeding at the wrist, and his sword fell; it tinkled on the
ground. I raised my sword to hew him should he stoop for't. He stood
and cursed me. He drew his dagger with his left; I opposed my point and
dared him with my eye to close. A great shout arose behind me from true
men's throats. He started. He spat at me in his rage, then gnashed his
teeth and fled blaspheming. I turned and saw torches close at hand.
Lo, they fell to dancing up and down methought, and the
next-moment-all-was-dark. I had--ah!"

Catherine. "Here, help! water! Stand aloof, you that be men!"

Margaret had fainted away.

CHAPTER LIV

When she recovered, her head was on Catherine's arm, and the honest half
of the family she had invaded like a foe stood round her uttering rough
homely words of encouragement, especially Giles, who roared at her that
she was not to take on like that. "Gerard was alive and well, or he
could not have writ this letter, the biggest mankind had seen as yet,
and," as he thought, "the beautifullest, and most moving, and smallest
writ."

"Ay, good Master Giles," sighed Margaret feebly, "he was alive. But how
know I what hath since befallen him? Oh, why left he Holland to go among
strangers fierce as lions? And why did I not drive him from me sooner
than part him from his own flesh and blood? Forgive me, you that are his
mother!"

And she gently removed Catherine's arm, and made a feeble attempt to
slide off the chair on to her knees, which, after a brief struggle with
superior force, ended in her finding herself on Catherine's bosom. Then
Margaret held out the letter to Eli, and said faintly but sweetly, "I
will trust it from my hand now. In sooth, I am little fit to read any
more-and-and--loth to leave my comfort;" and she wreathed her other arm
round Catherine's neck.

"Read thou, Richart," said Eli: "thine eyes be younger than mine."

Richart took the letter. "Well," said he, "such writing saw I never. A
writeth with a needle's point; and clear to boot. Why is he not in my
counting-house at Amsterdam instead of vagabonding it out yonder!"

"When I came to myself I was seated in the litter, and