"It may be so," answered Byles, doubtfully; "keep in the shade of the trees, and let us stop awhile—I do not much like this light." They watched the cottage anxiously, and, in about twenty minutes, the light disappeared.
"Sam," said Byles, "I believe you were right—that last faint flicker, I doubt not, came from the dying embers. Creep softly to the inclosure, and gently rustle the brushwood. Don't let them see you. Softly—there—go on."
Byles drew his shaft from beneath his garment, and fixed it in the bow as Sam crept into the inclosure and did what he was ordered. The animals started on their legs, and stretched their heads forward in various directions, as if to ascertain whence the danger seemed to threaten.
"Down, Sam, a little to the left," whispered Byles, as a noble buck bounded forward towards the servitor, who had sheltered himself so as to avoid being seen by the animal. Sam dropt on the drenched grass to avoid the shaft that now sped from the bow of the marksman. The arrow entered the neck of the affrighted creature, as, for an instant, it stood with upraised head, its lofty antlers touching the branches. It then bounded forward, but, in its giddy effort to clear the obstruction of the opposing chasm, fell gasping among the brushwood that lined the sides of the ravine.
"Confound him, he has escaped us!" exclaimed Byles. "See the whole herd scudding off, as if the hounds were in full cry at their heels. But forward, Sam, and creep to the edge, for he may not have fallen into the stream."
Sam obeyed; but whether owing to his trepidation or the slippery surface of the earth, he lost his footing and disappeared, uttering a cry of terror. Byles stood for an instant, irresolute whether to advance to the succour of his servitor, or leave him behind, for he apprehended that the cry would arouse the guardians of the Chase. Recollecting, however, that it would be as dangerous to abandon him as to attempt his extrication, he rushed forward to the spot where Sam had disappeared. The man had, in his fall, grasped the root of a tree from which the late heavy rains had washed the earth, and he lay suspended midway down. Byles hastily threw him a rope, with which he had intended to bind the animal on the barrow, and, with some difficulty, succeeded in dragging him up.
The dying throes of the buck recalled Byles to the object of his journey; and they were about making an effort to extricate the animal from the brushwood, when the servitor's eye caught the gleam of a light in the cottage.
"It's all over," said Byles, in a disappointed tone; "but the arrow may answer our purpose where it is. Take up the barrow and fly, but keep in the shade of the trees."
A quick knock aroused Mary from her seat at the fire. She approached the door on tiptoe, and hesitated a moment ere she unclosed it; but the rapid breathings of Byles relieved her alarm, and she opened it hastily. A pale, haggard look met her eyes as her husband rushed in. "Fasten the door, Mary," said he—"haste, quench the fire. Here, put these wet clothes in the hiding place"—stripping himself of his garments—"and when you have done, hasten to bed. I am afraid they have overtaken poor Sam."
"Oh!" said Mary, dropping the clothes, and staggering to a seat—"oh! Byles, Byles, we are lost! What will become of us! Sam will tell all!"