"Never!" said the hermit.
"Then die, fond dotard!" cried De Whalley; and, sudden as the lightning-stroke, he drew a dagger from his vest, aiming a blow at the hermit's bosom; but, marvellous to relate, the steel hardly penetrated the folds of his drapery, glancing back
with a dull sound, his person remaining uninjured. A look of unutterable scorn curled the features of the charmed, and apparently invulnerable, being before him.
"Cowardly assassin!" he cried, "I hold thy threats at less worth than a handful of this base dust beneath my feet, and utterly defy thy power. I am free as the untrammelled air, and thou mayest as well attempt to grasp the shadow or the sunbeam!"
Swift as the words he uttered the hermit disappeared! The effect was so sudden, aided, in all likelihood, by the dimness and obscurity of the cell, that, to the astonished apprehension of De Whalley, Ulphilas had made himself more impalpable than the air he breathed, sinking like a shadow through the rocky floor.
"Thou hast escaped me, fiend," said the dean, gnashing his teeth with vexation; "but I will overmatch thy spells: with the aid of this good hand I may yet retrieve the inheritance."
Saying this, he left the cell, and returned to his home at Whalley.
Early on the morrow the hermit entered the hall where Adam de Dutton was preparing for another expedition to the forest. The seneschal looked uneasy and surprised, but acknowledged his presence with great respect and humility.
"Adam de Dutton, thou hast other work to do," cried the holy man, "than rambling after these fools i' the forest! Thy lord will be here anon."
"How! whom meanest thou?" inquired the castellan, with a vacant stare of astonishment.