"What are we to do?"

"Get through this, and wait on the other side; then as they come
straggling through, shoot three, knock two on the head, and the rest
will kill us."

"Is that all you can think of?" said Gerard.

"That is all."

"Then, Martin Wittenhaagen, I take the lead, for you have lost your
head. Come, can you obey so young a man as I am?"

"Oh, yes, Martin," cried Margaret, "do not gainsay Gerard! He is wiser
than his years."

Martin yielded a sullen assent.

"Do then as you see me do," said Gerard; and drawing his huge knife, he
cut at every step a hazel shoot or two close by the ground, and turning
round twisted them breast-high behind him among the standing shoots.
Martin did the same, but with a dogged hopeless air. When they had
thus painfully travelled through the greater part of the coppice, the
bloodhound's deep bay came nearer and nearer, less and less musical,
louder and sterner.

Margaret trembled.

Martin went down on his stomach and listened.

"I hear a horse's feet."

"No," said Gerard; "I doubt it is a mule's. That cursed Ghysbrecht is
still alive: none other would follow me up so bitterly."

"Never strike your enemy but to slay him," said Martin gloomily.

"I'll hit harder this time, if Heaven gives me the chance," said Gerard.

At last they worked through the coppice, and there was an open wood. The
trees were large, but far apart, and no escape possible that way.

And now with the hound's bay mingled a score of voices hooping and
hallooing.

"The whole village is out after us," said Martin.

"I care not," said Gerard. "Listen, Martin. I have made the track smooth
to the dog, but rough to the men, that we may deal with them apart.
Thus the hound will gain on the men, and as soon as he comes out of the
coppice we must kill him."

"The hound? There are more than one."

"I hear but one."

"Ay! but one speaks, the others run mute; but let the leading hound lose
the scent, then another shall give tongue. There will be two dogs, at
least, or devils in dog's hides."

"Then we must kill two instead of one. The moment they are dead, into
the coppice again, and go right back."

"That is a good thought, Gerard," said Martin, plucking up heart.

"Hush! the men are in the wood."

Gerard now gave his orders in a whisper.

"Stand you with your bow by the side of the coppice--there, in the
ditch. I will go but a few yards to yon oak-tree, and hide behind it;
the dogs will fo