"Nay," said the old woman, shrinking back, "they bear no grudge to me;
I am too old to do aught but burthen ye. I will stay, and perchance save
the house and the chattels, and poor master's deft contrivance. Whist!
thou knowest his heart would break if none were by to guard it."

With that the faithful servant thrust the broad pieces that yet remained
of the king's gift into the gipsire Sibyll wore at her girdle, and then
closed and rebarred the door before they could detain her.

"It is base to leave her," said the scholar-gentleman.

The noble Sibyll could not refute her father. Afar they heard the
tramping of feet; suddenly, a dark red light shot up into the blue air,
a light from the flame of many torches.

"The wizard, the wizard! Death to the wizard, who would starve the
poor!" yelled forth, and was echoed by a stern hurrah.

Adam stood motionless, Sibyll by his side.

"The wizard and his daughter!" shrieked a sharp single voice, the voice
of Graul the tymbestere.

Adam turned. "Fly, my child,--they now threaten thee. Come, come, come!"
and, taking her by the hand, he hurried her across the fields, skirting
the hedge, their shadows dodging, irregular and quaint, on the starlit
sward. The father had lost all thought, all care but for the daughter's
life. They paused at last, out of breath and exhausted: the sounds at
the distance were lulled and hushed. They looked towards the direction
of the home they had abandoned, expecting to see the flames destined to
consume it reddening the sky; but all was dark,--or, rather, no light
save the holy stars and the rising moon offended the majestic heaven.

"They cannot harm the poor old woman; she hath no lore. On her gray
hairs has fallen not the curse of men's hate!" said Warner.

"Right, Father! when they found us flown, doubtless the cruel ones
dispersed. But they may search yet for thee. Lean on me, I am strong and
young. Another effort, and we gain the safe coverts of the Chase."

While yet the last word hung on her lips, they saw, on the path they
had left, the burst of torch-light, and heard the mob hounding on their
track. But the thick copses, with their pale green just budding into
life, were at hand. On they fled. The deer started from amidst the
entangled fern, but stood and gazed at them without fear; the playful
hares in the green alleys ceased not their nightly sports at the
harmless footsteps; and when at last, in the dense thicket, they sunk
dow