Deeper and yet more deep we rode into the gloom, though the sunset yet clung in a girdle of fire round the horizon, casting red blades of light between the tree trunks; and Pierrebon's cheek grew pale, for goblin and gnome and fay lived to him, and even I, who did not believe, felt if my sword played freely in my sheath. And then I tried to sing.
But so dismal were the echoes, so lowering the aspect of the mighty trees, that seemed, in the quaking shadows, to be instinct with life and motion, that "The Three Cavaliers" died away at the first verse; and then, from the woods in front of us, rang out a scream for help, so shrill and sharp in its agony that it froze the blood in our veins.
"'Tis a spirit!" gasped Pierrebon, with pale lips, and half pulled his horse round; but even as he did so the shriek rang out again—a woman's voice—and high and shrill in its octave of suffering. It was enough for me, and, sword in hand, I galloped for the sound.
A few strides of the good beast, a leap over a fallen tree trunk, and in a wide clearing I saw before me a deed of shame.
There was a man lying dead on the ground. There was a white-robed woman, screaming and struggling as two men tried to force her on to a horse; whilst another man, mounted on a white horse, with a white mask on his face, was urging them on to their work, and a long sword glittered in his hand.
I stayed not for a second, but, galloping straight on, made so sudden an assault that one of the knaves was down and twisting on the grass like a snake with a broken back, and the other had fled with a howl into the forest almost before my coming was realised.
But as the horse carried me on I felt a felon blow graze my cap, and I had but time to half turn and parry another when I found myself face to face with the masked man.
Even as the sparks flew from our swords, and I felt that I had met a master of fence, I knew it was Simon despite his mask. There lived not a man like him. Tall and thin, with long, bird-like limbs and a stooping back, with the features concealed by the white mask all but the eyes, which glittered like those of an angry asp, he seemed more spirit than man; and I felt as if I were crossing blade with some uncanny phantom of the woods rather than a thing of flesh and blood, as after a fierce bout we circled round, watching each other warily.
"So, brother, we meet at last," I said. But he made no answer, though his eyes flashed evilly as he came on again with a swift, lightning attack that chance alone enabled me to avoid. And then my life was on my wrist and eye; but I kept it, and began to slowly force him back.
God forgive me! he was my brother; but he would have slain me there like a mad dog—and life is dear. He never said a word until he was being driven back, and then an oath broke from him.