Bustling good-naturedly in the very jaws of danger, Muhlen-Sarkey made his adieux with no ruffle disturbing his customary urbanity. "Sorry we can't have your help," he remarked to Carter; "you have the place of honor, though. No need to caution you. Go now. Go quickly."
"Wait," said Trusia, holding up a denying hand. "See, they are sending out a single rider around our flank." A courier detaching himself from the main body of their foes could be seen making his way past their line through the wilderness.
"To report that the quarry has been run to earth." Carter gathered up his reins grimly as he spoke. "Come, Highness," he said to the girl who was lost in some sad dream.
"I do not wish to leave them. It seems so heartless," she burst forth. Then she turned to him appealingly as to that one who must henceforth order all things for her guidance. "Let me stay," she begged, "I can die like a Krovitzer."
"For you to fall into their hands, sweetheart," he whispered, "might mean worse than death. Would you leave such a reproach to haunt the survivors? The enemy is already approaching; come." His insistent hand was at her bridle and compelled her compliance.
The Krovitzers, with high-bred courage, spurred forward to meet their opponents, scorning to await the attack of even such superior numbers.
"For Trusia!" they shouted, and then, "For Krovitch!" as they engaged with a crash which halted the fugitives by its vehemence.
"A short life and a merry one, a stout blade and a noble one," they heard Muhlen-Sarkey shout as he lunged forward with a laugh into the thickest of the fray. At the first onslaught they saw Delmotte fall apparently dead. Carter drew the girl away from the sight of further carnage.
"He has proven himself a gallant gentleman," said Carter for her comfort, as once more they entered the protection of the patriarchal trees.