the more need is there that you fly with haste from Holland.
Oh, let us on."

"Nay, Margaret," said Gerard. "I fear not man's vengeance, thanks to
Martin here and this thick wood: only Him I fear whose eye pierces the
forest and reads the heart of man. If I but struck in self-defence,
'tis well; but if in hate, He may bid the avenger of blood follow me to
Italy--to Italy? ay, to earth's remotest bounds."

"Hush!" said Martin peevishly. "I can't hear for your chat."

"What is it?"

"Do you hear nothing, Margaret; my ears are getting old."

Margaret listened, and presently she heard a tuneful sound, like a
single stroke upon a deep ringing bell. She described it so to Martin.

"Nay, I heard it," said he.

"And so did I," said Gerard; "it was beautiful. Ah! there it is again.
How sweetly it blends with the air. It is a long way off. It is before
us, is it not?"

"No, no! the echoes of this wood confound the ear of a stranger. It
comes from the pine grove."

"What! the one we passed?"

"Why, Martin, is this anything? You look pale."

"Wonderful!" said Martin, with a sickly sneer. "He asks me is it
anything? Come, on, on! at any rate, let us reach a better place than
this."

"A better place--for what?"

"To stand at bay, Gerard," said Martin gravely; "and die like soldiers,
killing three for one."

"What's that sound?"

"IT IS THE AVENGER OF BLOOD."

"Oh, Martin, save him! Oh, Heaven be merciful What new mysterious peril
is this?"

"GIRL, IT'S A BLOODHOUND."

CHAPTER XX

The courage, like the talent, of common men, runs in a narrow groove.
Take them but an inch out of that, and they are done. Martin's courage
was perfect as far as it went. He had met and baffled many dangers in
the course of his rude life, and these familiar dangers he could face
with Spartan fortitude, almost with indifference; but he had never
been hunted by a bloodhound, nor had he ever seen that brute's unerring
instinct baffled by human cunning. Here then a sense of the supernatural
combined with novelty to ungenteel his heart. After going a few steps,
he leaned on his bow, and energy and hope oozed out of him. Gerard, to
whom the danger appeared slight in proportion as it was distant, urged
him to flight.

"What avails it?" said Martin sadly; "if we get clear of the wood we
shall die cheap; here, hard by, I know a place where we may die dear."

"Alas! good Martin," cried Gerard, "despair not so quickly; there must
be s