"Now we have him! Press him both close and hard!" cried Catesby, as he renewed, with all his activity, his lightning-like attack.

Never in my life have I, before that day nor since, fought with such quickness or strength. I was as a madman for the nonce, and fought with the delight of intoxicated recklessness. My sword seemed everywhere at once, and even the shifty Catesby was pressed back. I stepped forward in the delirium of feverish thirst for slaughter.

"Walter, beware! beware!" cried Hazel.

But it was too late. I had stepped too far forward, and thus permitted one of the pack to get behind me. A crushing, ringing blow upon my helm,—a shrill and piercing shriek from Hazel, that lived in mine ears, and died out at last as though by distance,—and I clattered to the floor, unconscious.

Mine oblivion could not have lasted for more time than whilst one might tell a score; for when I regained consciousness Michael still crashed against the separating oak, and there was Hazel standing behind her feeble barricade and holding in her small white hand the dagger that I had placed there.

"Stand back, thou traitorous, deceiving hypocrite! Advance towards me but one short step more and this dagger's bright blade shall be dyed red with mine own heart's blood!"

Ah! my children, had ye but seen her then, as she stood there, as pale as a marble statue; yet with flashing eyes and heaving breast, her dainty tapering fingers of the right hand grasping, with all her little flower-like strength, brittle yet easily snapped, the little weapon, ye would have cheered in unrestrained admiration of the dear, brave, little maid.

Catesby stood back in awe of this goodly sight, which even his villainous heart could not help but admire.

"Well, and right nobly done!" he cried. "Thy courage in thus resisting doth but arouse within my love-sick heart a new and fiercer, and e'en more consuming passion for thee. Like a boy, I ever love the apple that doth hang from the limb most difficult to reach. The more the rich, ripe fruit doth avoid my grasping hand the more determined am I to have it."

"Cease thine insulting speech, false knight, cowardly assassin, 'tis I that commandeth thee! I, thine ancient foe, that even now defies thee!" and I struggled, tottering to my knees, and shook my clenched fist in defiance at him.