and turned his head away, with unwonted
feeling.

After a moment's silence he was for going back to Margaret, but Gerard
stopped him. "No, good Martin; prithee, stay here behind this thicket,
and turn your head away from us, while I-oh, Martin! Martin!"

By this means Gerard escaped a witness of his anguish at leaving her he
loved, and Martin escaped a piteous sight. He did not see the poor
young things kneel and renew before Heaven those holy vows cruel men had
interrupted. He did not see them cling together like one, and then try
to part, and fail, and return to one another, and cling again, like
drowning, despairing creatures. But he heard Gerard sob, and sob, and
Margaret moan.

At last there was a hoarse cry, and feet pattered on the hard road.

He started up, and there was Gerard running wildly, with both hands
clasped above his head, in prayer, and Margaret tottering back towards
him with palms extended piteously, as if for help, and ashy cheek and
eyes fixed on vacancy.

He caught her in his arms, and spoke words of comfort to her; but her
mind could not take them in; only at the sound of his voice she moaned
and held him tight, and trembled violently.

He got her on the mule, and put his arm around her, and so, supporting
her frame, which, from being strong like a boy, had now turned all
relaxed and powerless, he took her slowly and sadly home.

She did not shed one tear, nor speak one word.

At the edge of the wood he took her off the mule, and bade her go across
to her father's house. She did as she was bid.

Martin to Rotterdam. Sevenbergen was too hot for him.

Gerard, severed from her he loved, went like one in a dream. He hired a
horse and a guide at the little hostelry, and rode swiftly towards the
German frontier. But all was mechanical; his senses felt blunted; trees
and houses and men moved by him like objects seen through a veil. His
companions spoke to him twice, but he did not answer. Only once he cried
out savagely, "Shall we never be out of this hateful country?"

After many hours' riding they came to the brow of a steep hill; a small
brook ran at the bottom.

"Halt!" cried the guide, and pointed across the valley. "Here is
Germany."

"Where?"

"On t'other side of the bourn. No need to ride down the hill, I trow."

Gerard dismounted without a word, and took the burgomaster's purse from
his girdle: while he opened it, "You will soon be out of this hateful
country," said his guid