Hepborne was so eager to embrace his father, that, forgetting his friend was a stranger to the perplexities of the way, he darted off, and descended through the brushwood, leaving Assueton to follow him as he best might. Assueton, in his turn, eager to [[91]]overtake Hepborne, put down the point of his hunting-spear to aid him in vaulting over an opposing bush. There was a knot in the ashen shaft, and it snapt asunder with his weight. He threw it away, and, guided by the distant sounds of the bugle-blasts and the yells of the hounds, he pressed precipitately down the steep, but in his ignorance he took a direction different from that pursued by Hepborne.
As he was within a few yards of the bottom of the hill, he saw an enormous wolf making towards him, the oblique and sinister eyes of the animal flashing fire, his jaws extended, and tongue lolling out. Assueton regretted the loss of his hunting-spear, but judging him to be much spent, he resolved to attack him. He squatted behind a bush directly in the animal’s path, and springing at him as he passed, he grappled him by the throat with both hands, and held him with the grasp of fate. The furious wolf struggled with all his tremendous strength, and before Assueton could venture to let go one hand to draw out his anelace, he was overbalanced by the weight of the creature, and they rolled over and over each other down the remainder of the grassy declivity, the knight still keeping his hold, conscious that the moment he should lose it he must inevitably be torn in pieces. There they lay tumbling and writhing on the ground, the exertions of the wolf being so violent, as frequently to lift Assueton and drag him on his back along the green sward. Now he gained his knees, and, pressing down his savage foe, he at last ventured to lose his right hand to grope for his anelace; but it was gone—it had dropped from the sheath; and, casting a glance around him, he saw it glittering on the grass, at some yards’ distance. There was no other mode of recovering it but by dragging the furious beast towards it, and this he now put forth all his strength to endeavour to effect. He tugged and toiled, and even succeeded so far as to gain a yard or two; but his grim foe was only rendered more ferocious in his resistance, by the additional force he employed. The wolf made repeated efforts to twist his neck round to bite, and more than once succeeded in wounding Assueton severely in the left arm, the sleeve of which was entirely torn off. As the beast lay on his back too, pinned firmly down towards his head, he threw up his body, and thrust his hind feet against Assueton’s face, so as completely to blind his eyes, and by a struggle more violent than any he had made before, he threw him down backwards.
The situation of the bold and hardy knight was now most perilous, for, though he still kept his grasp, he lay stretched on [[92]]the ground; and whilst the wolf, standing over him, was now able to bring all his sinews to bear against him, from having his feet planted firmly on the ground, Assueton, from his position, was unable to use his muscles with much effect. The panting and frothy jaws, and the long sharp tusks of the infuriated beast, were almost at his throat, and the only salvation that remained for him, was to prevent his fastening on by it, by keeping the head of the brute at a distance by the strength of his arms. The muscles of the neck of a wolf are well known to be so powerful, that they enable the animal to carry off a sheep with ease; so that, with all his vigour of nerve, Assueton had but a hopeless chance for it. Still he held, and still they struggled, when the tramp of a horse was heard, and a lady came galloping by under the trees. She no sooner observed the dreadful strife between the savage wolf and the knight, than, alighting nimbly from her palfrey, she couched the light hunting-spear she carried, and ran it through the heart of the half-choked animal. The blood spurted over the prostrate cavalier, and the huge carcase fell on him, with the eyes glaring in the head, and the teeth grinding together in the agony of death.
The bold Assueton, sore toil-spent with the length of the contest, threw the now irresisting body of the creature away from him, and instantly recovered his legs. All bloody and covered with foam as he was, he bowed gracefully to his preserver, and gazed at her for some time ere he could find breath to give his gratitude utterance. She was lovely as the morning. Her fair hair, broken loose from the thraldom of its braiding bodkins by the agitation of riding, streamed from beneath a hunting hat she wore, and fell in flowing ringlets over the black mantle that hung from her shoulder. Her mild and angelic soul spoke in expressive language through her blue eyes, though they were more than half veiled by her modest eyelids. Her full fresh lips were half open, and her bosom heaved with her high breathing from the exercise she had been undergoing, and the unwonted exertion she had so lately made, and her cheek was gently flushed by the consciousness of the glorious deed she had achieved.
“Sir Knight,” inquired she, timidly though anxiously, “I hope thou hast tane no hurt from the caitiff salvage? Thou dost bleed, meseems?”
“Nay, lady,” said Assueton, at last able to speak, “I bleed not; ’tis the blood of the brute yonder. Perdie, thy bold and timely aid did rid me of a strife that mought have ended sorely to my mischaunce. Verily, thou camest like an angel to my [[93]]rescue, and my poor thanks are but meagre guerdon for the heroic deed thou didst adventure to effect it. Do I not speak to the sister of my friend, Sir Patrick Hepborne? Do I not address the fair Lady Isabelle?”
“Patrick Hepborne?” inquired she eagerly; “art thou, indeed, the friend of my brother? Welcome, Sir Knight; thou art welcome to me, as thou wilt be to my father. What tidings hast thou of my gallant brother?”
“Even those, I ween, beauteous lady, which shall give thee belchier,” said Assueton; “my friend is well as thou wouldst wish him; nay, more, he is here with me. We parted but now above yonder at the crop of the hill. I lost him in the thickets on its side, just before I encountered with gaffer wolf yonder.”
“Pray Heaven,” said Isabelle, with alarm in her countenance, “that he may not meet with some of the wolves we drove hither before us. Thou seemest to be altogether without weapon, Sir Knight; perhaps he is equally defenceless.”
“Nay, lady,” replied Assueton, “I broke a faithless rotten shafted hunting-spear ere I came down, and I lost my anelace from my girdlestead as I was struggling with the wolf. Sir Patrick has both, I warrant thee, and will make a better use of them than I did. Shall we seek him, so please ye?”