"Then to one or the other of you I owe my life," said Lord James Douglas, reaching a hand to both.
"Sholto dragged you from under half a dozen of the devils," said Malise.
"My father it was who brought you to," said Sholto.
"I thank you both with all my heart—for this as for all the rest. I know not, indeed, where to begin," said James Douglas, gratefully. "Give me your hands. I can stand upright now."
So saying, and being assisted by Malise, he rose to his feet.
"Will they come again?" he asked, as with an intense disgust he surveyed the battle-field in the intermittent light from over the marshes.
"Listen," said Malise.
The low howling of the wolves had retreated farther, but seemed to retain more and more of its strange human character.
"La Meffraye! La Meff—raye!" they seemed to wail, with a curious swelling upon the last syllable.
"I hear only the yelling of the infernal brutes," said the Lord James; "they seem to be calling on their patron saint—the woman whom we saw in the house of the poor cripple. I am sure I saw her going to and fro among the devils and encouraging them to the assault."