aking shadows, to be instinct with life
and motion, that "The Three Cavaliers" died away at the first verse;
and then, from the woods in front of us, rang out a scream for help, so
shrill and sharp in its agony that it froze the blood in our veins.

"'Tis a spirit!" gasped Pierrebon, with pale lips, and half pulled his
horse round; but even as he did so the shriek rang out again--a woman's
voice--and high and shrill in its octave of suffering. It was enough
for me, and, sword in hand, I galloped for the sound.

A few strides of the good beast, a leap over a fallen tree trunk, and
in a wide clearing I saw before me a deed of shame.

There was a man lying dead on the ground. There was a white-robed
woman, screaming and struggling as two men tried to force her on to a
horse; whilst another man, mounted on a white horse, with a white mask
on his face, was urging them on to their work, and a long sword
glittered in his hand.

I stayed not for a second, but, galloping straight on, made so sudden
an assault that one of the knaves was down and twisting on the grass
like a snake with a broken back, and the other had fled with a howl
into the forest almost before my coming was realised.

But as the horse carried me on I felt a felon blow graze my cap, and I
had but time to half turn and parry another when I found myself face to
face with the masked man.

Even as the sparks flew from our swords, and I felt that I had met a
master of fence, I knew it was Simon despite his mask. There lived not
a man like him. Tall and thin, with long, bird-like limbs and a
stooping back, with the features concealed by the white mask all but
the eyes, which glittered like those of an angry asp, he seemed more
spirit than man; and I felt as if I were crossing blade with some
uncanny phantom of the woods rather than a thing of flesh and blood, as
after a fierce bout we circled round, watching each other warily.

"So, brother, we meet at last," I said. But he made no answer, though
his eyes flashed evilly as he came on again with a swift, lightning
attack that chance alone enabled me to avoid. And then my life was on
my wrist and eye; but I kept it, and began to slowly force him back.

God forgive me! he was my brother; but he would have slain me there
like a mad dog--and life is dear. He never said a word until he was
being driven back, and then an oath broke from him.

'Tis an ill thing to swear with a sword in one's hand. That oath