CHAPTER IX. HOW STRANGE THINGS BEFELL IN MINSTEAD WOOD.

ooneside,caughtthewoman'swrist.Alleyne,however,asactiveasayoungdeer-hound,sprangtoheraidandseizedherbytheotherarm,raisinghisiron-shodstaffashedidso. “Youmaysaywhatyouwilltome,”hesaidbetweenhisclenchedteeth—“itmaybenobetterthanIdeservebut,brotherorno,IswearbymyhopesofsalvationthatIwillbreakyourarmifyoudonotleaveholdofthemaid.” Therewasaringinhisvoiceandaflashinhiseyeswhichpromisedthattheblowwouldfollowquickattheheelsoftheword.Foramomentthebloodofthelonglineofhot-headedthaneswastoostrongforthesoftwhisperingsofthedoctrineofmeeknessandmercy.Hewasconsciousofafiercewildthrillthroughhisnervesandathrobofmadgladnessathisheart,ashisrealhumanselfburstforaninstantthebondsofcustomandofteachingwhichhadhelditsolong.Thesocmansprangback,lookingtoleftandtorightforsomestickorstonewhichmightservehimforweaponbutfindingnone,heturnedandranatthetopofhisspeedforthehouse,blowingthewhileuponashrillwhistle. “Come!”gaspedthewoman.“Fly,friend,erehecomeback.” “Nay,lethimcome!”criedAlleyne.“Ishallnotbudgeafootforhimorhisdogs.” “Come,come!”shecried,tuggingathisarm.“Iknowtheman:hewillkillyou.Come,fortheVirgin'ssake,orformysake,forIcannotgoandleaveyouhere.” “Come,then,”saidheandtheyrantogethertothecoverofthewoods.Astheygainedtheedgeofthebrushwood,Alleyne,lookingback,sawhisbrothercomerunningoutofthehouseagain,withthesungleaminguponhishairandhisbeard.Heheldsomethingwhichflashedinhisrighthand,andhestoopedatthethresholdtounloosetheblackhound. “Thisway!”thewomanwhispered,inaloweagervoice.“Throughthebushestothatforkedash.DonotheedmeIcanrunasfastasyou,Itrow.Nowintothestream—rightin,overankles,tothrowthedogoff,thoughIthinkitisbutacommoncur,likeitsmaster.”Asshespoke,shesprangherselfintotheshallowstreamandranswiftlyupthecentreofit,withthebrownwaterbubblingoverherfeetandherhandout-stretchedtowardtheclingingbranchesofbrambleorsapling.Alleynefollowedcloseatherheels,withhismindinawhirlatthisblackwelcomeandsuddenshiftingofallhisplansandhopes.Yet,graveaswerehisthoughts,theywouldstillturntowonderashelookedatthetwinklingfeetofhisguideandsawherlithefigurebendthiswayandthat,dippingunderboughs,springingoverstones,withalightnessandeasewhichmadeitnosmalltaskforhimtokeepupwithher.Atlast,whenhewasalmostoutofbreath,shesuddenlythrewherselfdownuponamossybank,betweentwoholly-bushes,andlookedruefullyatherowndrippingfeetandbedraggledskirt. “HolyMary!”saidshe,“whatshallIdo?Motherwillkeepmetomychamberforamonth,andmakemeworkatthetapestryofthenineboldknights.Shepromisedasmuchlastweek,whenIfellintoWilverleybog,andyetsheknowsthatIcannotabideneedle-work.” Alleyne,stillstandinginthestream,glanceddownatthegracefulpink-and-whitefigure,thecurveofraven-blackhair,andtheproud,sensitivefacewhichlookedupfranklyandconfidinglyathisown. “Wehadbeston,”hesaid.“Hemayyetovertakeus.” “Notso.Wearewelloffhislandnow,norcanhetellinthisgreatwoodwhichwaywehavetaken.Butyou—youhadhimatyourmercy.Whydidyounotkillhim?” “Killhim!Mybrother!” “Andwhynot?”—withaquickgleamofherwhiteteeth.“Hewouldhavekilledyou.Iknowhim,andIreaditinhiseyes.HadIhadyourstaffIwouldhavetried—aye,anddoneit,too.”Sheshookherclenchedwhitehandasshespoke,andherlipstightenedominously. “IamalreadysadinheartforwhatIhavedone,”saidhe,sittingdownonthebank,andsinkinghisfaceintohishands.“Godhelpme!—allthatisworstinmeseemedtocomeuppermost.Anotherinstant,andIhadsmittenhim:thesonofmyownmother,themanwhomIhavelongedtotaketomyheart.Alas!thatIshouldstillbesoweak.” “Weak!”sheexclaimed,raisingherblackeyebrows.“Idonotthinkthatevenmyfatherhimself,whoisahardjudgeofmanhood,wouldcallyouthat.Butitis,asyoumaythink,sir,averypleasantthingformetohearthatyouaregrievedatwhatyouhavedone,andIcanbutredethatweshouldgobacktogether,andyoushouldmakeyourpeacewiththeSocmanbyhandingbackyourprisoner.Itisasadthingthatsosmallathingasawomanshouldcomebetweentwowhoareofoneblood.” SimpleAlleyneopenedhiseyesatthislittlespurtoffemininebitterness.“Nay,lady,”saidhe,“thatwereworstofall.Whatmanwouldbesocaitiffandthrallastofailyouatyourneed?Ihaveturnedmybrotheragainstme,andnow,alas!Iappeartohavegivenyouoffencealsowithmyclumsytongue.But,indeed,lady,Iamtornbothways,andcanscarcegraspinmymindwhatitisthathasbefallen.” “NorcanImarvelatthat,”saidshe,withalittletinklinglaugh.“Youcameinastheknightdoesinthejongleur'sromances,betweendragonanddamsel,withsmalltimefortheaskingofquestions.Come,”shewenton,springingtoherfeet,andsmoothingdownherrumpledfrock,“letuswalkthroughtheshawtogether,andwemaycomeuponBertrandwiththehorses.IfpoorTroubadourhadnotcastashoe,weshouldnothavehadthistrouble.Nay,Imusthaveyourarm:for,thoughIspeaklightly,nowthatallishappilyoverIamasfrightenedasmybraveRoland.Seehowhischestheaves,andhisdearfeathersallawry—thelittleknightwhowouldnothavehisladymishandled.”Sosheprattledontoherhawk,whileAlleynewalkedbyherside,stealingaglancefromtimetotimeatthisqueenlyandwaywardwoman.InsilencetheywanderedtogetheroverthevelvetturfandonthroughthebroadMinsteadwoods,wheretheoldlichen-drapedbeechesthrewtheircirclesofblackshadowuponthesunlitsward. “Youhavenowish,then,tohearmystory?”saidshe,atlast. “Ifitpleasesyoutotellitme,”heanswered. “Oh!”shecriedtossingherhead,“ifitisofsolittleinteresttoyou,wehadbestletitbide.” “Nay,”saidheeagerly,“Iwouldfainhearit.” “Youhavearighttoknowit,ifyouhavelostabrother'sfavorthroughit.Andyet——Ahwell,youare,asIunderstand,aclerk,soImustthinkofyouasonestepfurtherinorders,andmakeyoumyfather-confessor.Knowthenthatthismanhasbeenasuitorformyhand,lessasIthinkformyownsweetsakethanbecausehehathambitionandhaditonhismindthathemightimprovehisfortunesbydippingintomyfather'sstrongbox—thoughtheVirginknowsthathewouldhavefoundlittleenoughtherein.Myfather,however,isaproudman,agallantknightandtriedsoldieroftheoldestblood,towhomthisman'schurlishbirthandlowdescent——Oh,lackaday!Ihadforgotthathewasofthesamestrainasyourself.” “Nay,troublenotforthat,”saidAlleyne,“weareallfromgoodmotherEve.” “Streamsmayspringfromonesource,andyetsomebeclearandsomebefoul,”quothshequickly.“But,tobebriefoverthematter,myfatherwouldhavenoneofhiswooing,norinsoothwouldI.Onthathesworeavowagainstus,andasheisknowntobeaperilousman,withmanyoutlawsandothersathisback,myfatherforbadethatIshouldhawkorhun