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Galors went forward with one in his company on to the heath, dropped him after three or four hours' steady going, and rode on still. His third man was to meet him at the edge of Martle Brush. Never a word had he spoken since his great "Entra per me!" but without that the act had been enough to tell his prize, that whatever her chains had been before, the sword-stroke had riveted them closer.

As an underchant, sinister accompaniment to the voices of the night, there came to them the muffled pulsing of a horse's hoofs; a quick and regular sound a horse galloping evenly with plenty in hand. Both heard it. Galors drove in the spurs, and the chase began. They were yet a mile away from Martle Brush.

As he studied the place, Martle Brush as he supposed it to be, he saw a hart in the herd stop feeding and lift his head to snuff the air, then with his antlers thrown back, trot off along the brook, and all the herd behind him. This set him thinking; he knew the deer had not winded him. The breeze set from them rather, over the valley, from the north-east.

"He must be an indifferent monk," Prosper said; "God seems not well served in such a man's life. Holy Church would be holier without him." "He is a great hunter, my lord," said Isoult. "It would certainly seem so," said Prosper grimly. "Where should I find him likeliest?" "Lord, look for him in Martle Brush." "Ah! And where is that?" "Lord, it is here by," said Isoult.

And by now he should be near Martle, and she before him on the saddle-bow." She began to weep and wag her silly head. Prosper made to go, having no time to waste; but, "Stop," she quavered, "and hear me out. Though the Abbot Richard was murdered at his prayers, yet withal he got his deserts, for he hatched a worse wrong than ever Galors did.

The heath loomed ghostly before them, with the dark bank of trees rising steadily as they neared. Athwart them rose also the moon; there was promise of a fine still night. They entered the trees, heading for Martle Brush. Suddenly Galors pulled up, listening intently. Still Galors listened. It was so quiet you might almost have heard two hearts beating.