ld, there was not a moment
of hesitation in promising their aid to rescue her from a man whom they
regarded as a far more bitter enemy, both of themselves and their race.

"I fear we shall be too late to cut them off," Cnut said, "they have so
long a start; but at least we will waste no time in gossiping."

Winding a horn to call together some of the members of the band who had
scattered, and leaving one at the meeting-place to give instructions to
the rest, Cnut, followed by those assembled there, went off at a swinging
trot through the glades towards Wortham Castle.

After a rapid calculation of distances, and allowing for the fact that
the baron's men--knowing that Sir Walter's retainers and friends were all
deep in the forest, and even if they heard of the outrage could not be on
their traces for hours--would take matters quietly, Cnut concluded that
they had arrived in time.

Turning off, they made their way along the edge of the wood to the point
where the road from Evesham ran through the forest.

Scarcely had the party reached this point when they heard a faint
clatter of steel.

"Here they come!" exclaimed Cuthbert.

Cnut gave rapid directions, and the band took up their posts behind the
trees, on either side of the path.

"Remember," Cnut said, "above all things be careful not to hit the child,
but pierce the horse on which she is riding. The instant he falls, rush
forward. We must trust to surprise to give us the victory."

Three minutes later the head of a band of horsemen was seen through the
trees. They were some thirty in number, and, closely grouped as they were
together, the watchers behind the trees could not see the form of the
child carried in their midst.

When they came abreast of the concealed outlaws, Cnut gave a sharp
whistle, and fifty arrows flew from tree and bush into the closely
gathered party of horsemen. More than half their number fell at once;
some, drawing their swords, endeavoured to rush at their concealed foes,
while others dashed forward in the hope of riding through the snare into
which they had fallen. Cuthbert had levelled his crossbow, but had not
fired; he was watching with intense anxiety for a glimpse of the
bright-coloured dress of the child. Soon he saw a horseman separate
himself from the rest and dash forward at full speed. Several arrows flew
by him, and one or two struck the horse on which he rode.

The animal, however, kept on its way.

Cuthbert levelled