h acts, the good father owed a
great deal, possibly his life.

As they were seated in the priest's hut one afternoon, a rough knock
fell upon the door which was immediately pushed open to admit as
disreputable a band of ruffians as ever polluted the sight of man. Six
of them there were, clothed in dirty leather, and wearing swords and
daggers at their sides.

The leader was a mighty fellow with a great shock of coarse black hair
and a red, bloated face almost concealed by a huge matted black beard.
Behind him pushed another giant with red hair and a bristling mustache;
while the third was marked by a terrible scar across his left cheek and
forehead and from a blow which had evidently put out his left eye, for
that socket was empty, and the sunken eyelid but partly covered the
inflamed red of the hollow where his eye had been.

"A ha, my hearties," roared the leader, turning to his motley crew,
"fine pickings here indeed. A swine of God fattened upon the sweat of
such poor, honest devils as we, and a young shoat who, by his looks,
must have pieces of gold in his belt.

"Say your prayers, my pigeons," he continued, with a vile oath, "for The
Black Wolf leaves no evidence behind him to tie his neck with a halter
later, and dead men talk the least."

"If it be The Black Wolf," whispered Father Claude to the boy, "no worse
fate could befall us for he preys ever upon the clergy, and when drunk,
as he now is, he murders his victims. I will throw myself before them
while you hasten through the rear doorway to your horse, and make good
your escape." He spoke in French, and held his hands in the attitude of
prayer, so that he quite entirely misled the ruffians, who had no idea
that he was communicating with the boy.

Norman of Torn could scarce repress a smile at this clever ruse of the
old priest, and, assuming a similar attitude, he replied in French:

"The good Father Claude does not know Norman of Torn if he thinks he
runs out the back door like an old woman because a sword looks in at the
front door."

Then rising he addressed the ruffians.

"I do not know what manner of grievance you hold against my good friend
here, nor neither do I care. It is sufficient that he is the friend of
Norman of Torn, and that Norman of Torn be here in person to acknowledge
the debt of friendship. Have at you, sir knights of the great filth and
the mighty stink!" and with drawn sword he vaulted over the table and
fell upon the surpris