est force was already spent ere De la Zouch was
struck. Had it not been for this circumstance he would have come
off ill indeed, but even as it was he was sorely injured, and lay
insensible in the place where he had fallen until he opened his eyes
at dusk and found himself being lifted up.

"Where am I?" he gasped, as he mechanically rubbed his eyes and gazed
around. "I am hurt."

"Lie still awhile," returned Crowleigh, for he it was who stood over
him. "You will be yourself again directly," and raising his horn to
his lips he blew a loud, clear note upon the still evening air.

"What does that portend?" asked the conscience-stricken and
mistrustful knight. He feared that he was about to be carried off to
answer for his misdeeds.

"There will be help soon," said Crowleigh. "Lie still, for you are
hurt. You will be better by-and-by. Drink this," and he filled his
horn with water and offered it to him.

De la Zouch took the water and drank it off. It appeared to do him
good, for he rapidly rallied, and the reassuring words of Crowleigh
had a magical effect in clearing his brow and helping on his recovery.

"Am I much hurt?" he inquired with a look of intense agony upon his
brow.

"Bruised and stunned, I think, that is all. Ha, here they come;" and,
as he suddenly stopped speaking, the sound of the replying horns
could be distinctly heard, and within a few minutes, from different
quarters, over walls and fences, the horsemen came riding in by ones
and twos until at last there numbered a full dozen.

"Oh!" groaned De la Zouch, loudly, "it is painful, cannot you relieve
me?"

"Where is Sir George Vernon?" inquired Sir Everard; "have none of you
seen him of late?"

No one had, but they had all blown their horns, so he was sure to be
in soon.

De la Zouch shuddered at the mention of the King of the Peak--he was
hardly himself again as yet, but he was fast rallying, and by the time
that the baron arrived he was quite ready to meet him.

"Heigho! found at last;" exclaimed the baron, as he made his way
through the group. "But whom have we here; tush, where is my Doll?"

De la Zouch, for answer, began to play his game, and he only replied
to the query with a deceitful and prolonged groan.

"Where's my Dorothy?" impatiently repeated the baron, disregarding the
agonised look which met his gaze.

"There--miles on," gasped Sir Henry, jerking his thumb over his
shoulder, and pointing along the road by which he had j