t to
shelter them.

And away inland, beyond the palisades and under the entrenched camp of
the besiegers, the ground pitched and rocked, so that every tent fell
grovelling; and whenever the ground gaped, captains and men-at-arms were
swallowed down in detachments.

Hardly had the call of old Jarl's war-horn ceased, before the Constable
commanded the castle gates to be thrown open, and out he came leading
a gaunt and hungry band of Jarl-folk warriors; for over in the enemy's
camp they had scent of a hot supper which must be cooked and eaten
before dawn. And in a little while, when the cooking was at its height,
young Duke Jarl stuck his red head out over the battlements, and
laughed.

So this has told how old Duke Jarl once turned and talked in his sleep;
but to tell of the real awakening of old Jarl would be quite another
story.

THE WHITE DOE

One day, as the king's huntsman was riding in the forest, he came to a
small pool. Fallen leaves covering its surface had given it the colour
of blood, and knee-deep in their midst stood a milk-white doe drinking.

The beauty of the doe set fire to the huntsman's soul; he took an arrow
and aimed well at the wild heart of the creature. But as he was loosing
the string the branch of a tree overhanging the pool struck him across
the face, and caught hold of him by the hair; and arrow and doe vanished
away together into the depths of the forest.

Never until now, since he entered the king's service, had the huntsman
missed his aim. The thought of the white doe living after he had willed
its death inflamed him with rage; he could not rest till he had brought
hounds on the trail, determined to follow until it had surrendered to
him its life.

All day, while he hunted, the woods stayed breathless, as if to watch;
not a blade moved, not a leaf fell. About noon a red deer crossed his
path; but he paid no heed, keeping his hounds only to the white doe's
trail.

At sunset a fallow deer came to disturb the scent, and through the
twilight, as it deepened, a grey wolf ran in and out of the underwood.
When night came down, his hounds fled from his call, following through
tangled thickets a huge black boar with crescent tusks. So he found
himself alone, with his horse so weary that it could scarcely move.

But still, though the moon was slow in its rising, the fever of the
chase burned in the huntsman's veins, and caused him to press on. For
now he found himself at the rocky