More clearly every moment did the outlaw realize that, with all his courage and strength, he was hopelessly overmatched; and the worst of it was that this mysterious foe, whose face he had never seen, made no attempt to strike in return, and seemed to watch, with cold composure, the doomed man wasting his strength in vain efforts, as if meaning to wait till he was utterly spent, and then despatch him with a single blow.
What face was hidden by that barred helmet? A spectre? a demon? the ghost of one of his countless victims, risen from the grave for vengeance? the Evil One himself, come to snatch him away with all his sins on his head? Conscience made a coward of this man of a thousand crimes; and, bold as he was, he felt his heart sink as it had never sunk before.
Driven to desperation, he dealt a fearful blow at his foe’s unarmed body. But the stroke was wasted on the empty air, and ere the outlaw could recover his guard, the knight sprang in and clutched his weapon with both hands, and, with one mighty wrench, snapped the strong shaft like a twig!
The disarmed bandit was at his foe’s mercy; but in place of killing him at a blow, as he expected, the knight threw down his axe, saying—
“True battle calls for equal arms. As thou hast lost thy weapon, let us try it with our bare hands.”
This time the outlaw’s amazement was too great for words; and it was mechanically rather than from any reasoning impulse that he closed with his strange foe in a desperate grapple.
But he fared no better than before; for, once clutched in his opponent’s terrible grasp, he had no more chance than a deer in the coils of a boa. A frantic, useless struggle, which left him weaker and more breathless than ever—a dizzy whirl—a sudden shock—and he was lying flat on the earth, sick and giddy, and gasping for breath, with his foeman’s knee on his chest.
“Slay me if thou wilt,” panted he, with a defiant scowl; “I ask no mercy.”
“Not I!” cried the victor, with a loud, jovial laugh. “Good men-at-arms like thee are too rare to be wasted. Hark ye, friend; I will make a bargain with thee. If thou be a rover of these woods, thou must know one called ‘The Black Wolf of the Forest,’ who hath haunted them this many a day, and done much ill to many. Him have I bound me to seek out, and if thou wilt guide me to his haunt, the moment he and I stand face to face, thou art free to go whither thou wilt.”
“Dost thou jest?” said the staring robber. “Thou art the first who ever wished to meet him whom all men shun.”