emble and despair.

"Oh, why did we part with Gerard? They will kill my Gerard, and I not
near him."

"Nay, nay! the head to catch him is not on their shoulders. You bade him
meet us at the ash-tree?"

"And so I did. Bless you, Martin, for thinking of that. To the
ash-tree!"

"Ay! but with less noise."

They were now nearly at the edge of the coppice, when suddenly
they heard hooping and hallooing behind them. The men had satisfied
themselves the fugitives were in the coppice, and were beating back.

"No matter," whispered Martin to his trembling companion. "We shall have
time to win clear and slip back out of sight by hard running. Ah!"

He stooped suddenly; for just as he was going to burst out of the
brushwood, his eye caught a figure keeping sentinel. It was Ghysbrecht
Van Swieten seated on his mule; a bloody bandage was across his nose,
the bridge of which was broken; but over this his eyes peered keenly,
and it was plain by their expression he had heard the fugitives rustle,
and was looking out for them. Martin muttered a terrible oath, and
cautiously strung his bow, then with equal caution fitted his last arrow
to the string. Margaret put her hands to her face, but said nothing.
She saw this man must die or Gerard. After the first impulse she peered
through her fingers, her heart panting to her throat.

The bow was raised, and the deadly arrow steadily drawn to its head,
when at that moment an active figure leaped on Ghysbrecht from behind so
swiftly, it was like a hawk swooping on a pigeon. A kerchief went over
the burgomaster, in a turn of the hand his head was muffled in it, and
he was whirled from his seat and fell heavily upon the ground, where he
lay groaning with terror; and Gerard jumped down after him.

"Hist, Martin! Martin!"

Martin and Margaret came out, the former openmouthed crying, "Now fly!
fly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved."

At this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have it,
Margaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, partly
from loss of blood.

"Oh, my beloved, fly!" she gasped. "Leave me, for I am faint."

"No! no!" cried Gerard. "Death together, or safety. Ah! the mule! mount
her, you, and I'll run by your side."

In a moment Martin was on Ghysbrecht's mule, and Gerard raised the
fainting girl in his arms and placed her on the saddle, and relieved
Martin of his bow.

"Help! treason! murder! murder!" shrieked Ghysbrech