y, swiftly," said Robin, "for I feel that my hours
are short."

They rode all through the day and night, and came upon the Priory in
early dawn--a quaint, strange building, surrounded by heavy trees.

The journey and fierce excitement told upon Robin. His wound was beating
red-hot irons into his heart; hardly could they get him from his horse
to the gate of Kirklees.

Stuteley rang the bell loudly, and anon the door was opened by a woman
shrouded in black. She spoke in a cold low voice. "Is this Robin Earl of
Huntingdon?" asked she. "I pray God that it may be true, for at this
moment the wizard is meditating his very death."

"Tell us where this miscreant doth make his sorcery, good mother," cried
Stuteley and Little John together, "and not all the magic in the world
shall save him from our swords!"

"Go out yonder to the left, where ye will find a little stream; near by
it is a tree blasted by Heaven's fires. Under the tree is the man
Carfax[A]--I have watched and known him for many days. Go quickly, and I
will tend your master. See, already he swoons--the hour is very nigh!"

[Footnote A: Carfax was then actually in France, acting against
Richard.]

The two men gave Robin into her keeping, with a fury of impatience;
then, with brandished swords, ran swiftly in search of the wizard. Robin
had swooned, and lay a dead weight in the arms of the Prioress.

With amazing strength and tenderness she lifted his slight body and bore
it to a little room, near to the entrance of the Priory. She laid the
unconscious man upon a couch, then hastily bared his right arm.

She paused an instant to throw back her hood; then taking the scissors
of her chatelaine, suddenly and resolutely gashed the great artery in
his arm. He gave a cry of pain and started up. "Be still, be still," she
muttered, soothing him. "The pain is naught, it will cure thee--lie back
and sleep--sleep."

"Who are you?" he asked, feebly, and with swimming eyes. Then blackness
came upon him again, and he fell back upon the couch. Out of the night
of pain the cold face of the demoiselle Marie smiled mockingly at him!

She raised herself and softly withdrew. As she locked the door upon him
she smiled thinly, wickedly. "So, Robin--at last, Robin," she murmured,
"I am avenged."

Two hours later Little John returned. Behind him was Stuteley, anxious
and ashamed. They had found a man in the woods, and had killed him
instantly, in their blind rage, only to disc