The knight was holding his own splendidly with the three retainers, and
for an instant Bertrade de Montfort stood spell-bound by the exhibition
of swordsmanship she was witnessing.

Fighting the three alternately, in pairs and again all at the same
time, the silent knight, though weighted by his heavy armor, forced them
steadily back; his flashing blade seeming to weave a net of steel about
them. Suddenly his sword stopped just for an instant, stopped in the
heart of one of his opponents, and as the man lunged to the floor,
it was flashing again close to the breasts of the two remaining
men-at-arms.

Another went down less than ten seconds later, and then the girl's
attention was called to the face of the horrified Baron; Peter of Colfax
was moving--slowly and cautiously, he was creeping, from behind, toward
the visored knight, and in his raised hand flashed a sharp dagger.

For an instant, the girl stood frozen with horror, unable to move a
finger or to cry out; but only for an instant, and then, regaining
control of her muscles, she stooped quickly and, grasping a heavy
foot-stool, hurled it full at Peter of Colfax.

It struck him below the knees and toppled him to the floor just as the
knight's sword passed through the throat of his final antagonist.

As the Baron fell, he struck heavily upon a table which supported
the only lighted cresset within the chamber. In an instant, all was
darkness. There was a rapid shuffling sound as of the scurrying of rats
and then the quiet of the tomb settled upon the great hall.

"Are you safe and unhurt, my Lady Bertrade?" asked a grave English voice
out of the darkness.

"Quite, Sir Knight," she replied, "and you?"

"Not a scratch, but where is our good friend the Baron?"

"He lay here upon the floor but a moment since, and carried a thin long
dagger in his hand. Have a care, Sir Knight, he may even now be upon
you."

The knight did not answer, but she heard him moving boldly about the
room. Soon he had found another lamp and made a light. As its feeble
rays slowly penetrated the black gloom, the girl saw the bodies of
the three men-at-arms, the overturned table and lamp, and the visored
knight; but Peter of Colfax was gone.

The knight perceived his absence at the same time, but he only laughed a
low, grim laugh.

"He will not go far, My Lady Bertrade," he said.

"How know you my name?" she asked. "Who may you be? I do not recognize
your armor, and your breastplat