he Armorican Sea. But that portion of
the forest that faces the jetty is at the utmost a quarter of a league
long. We could easily put it behind us before night, and we would then
be on the moor of Kennor, an immense plain where you could encamp in
absolute security. To-morrow at daybreak if it should please you, we can
ride back into the forest and rummage at the foot of the druid stones
for the treasures hidden there by the Bretons. Glory to your arms, and
may the booty be large!"

After a few minutes of hesitation, Neroweg, tempted by cupidity, sends a
man of his escort to give to his troops the order to march and traverse
the jetty, a narrow walk of about three feet wide, perfectly even,
covered with thin grass, and lying in plain view from one end to the
other. Neroweg feels easy in mind. Nevertheless, remembering the rocks
of Glen-Clan, he prudently orders several horsemen to precede the troops
by about a hundred paces. Marching behind their chief, Neroweg's troops
begin to defile along the jetty, which soon is covered with soldiers
from end to end. Massed from the foot to the top of the hill, behind the
advancing column, are the last detachments of Neroweg's army. They break
ranks as fast as it is their turn to enter upon the passage.

Suddenly, from the midst of the clumps of reeds that rise at irregular
intervals along the length of the tongue of land, the cry of
night-birds goes up--cries identical with those that had resounded from
the summits of Glen-Clan. Upon the signal, the muffled sounds of rapid
hatchet strokes are heard. They teem to be the answer given to the cries
of the night-birds. Instantly the seemingly solid walk sinks at scores
of places under the feet of the marching soldiers. Woe is those who
happen to find themselves over these hidden traps, that are constructed
of wooden beams and strong chains concealed under a layer of sward! The
scheme, devised by Vortigern, proves successful. The movable bridges
can, at will, either support the weight of the troops that march over
them, or tip over under their tread, by the dexterous knocking from
under the loose boards the wooden pegs that are their only support.

Plunged in the water up to their necks, Vortigern and a large number of
stout-hearted men of his tribe have held themselves motionless, mute and
invisible in the center of the clumps of reeds that border the jetty
near each of the traps. When the jetty is entirely covered with Frankish
sold