The Cloister and the Hearth

r own at Sevenbergen. It was a housewife's distress, but deeper than we can well

ts to sup at home. When he gives over work then he runs to me straight, poor soul: and often, h

ed his head. "

day to shoot,-sooth to say

ne of his archers, in return for services in the wars, and for a wound received at the duke's side. The stipend was four marks yearly to be paid by the Duke's almoner and the licence was to shoot three arrows once a week, viz., on Thursday, and no other day, in any of the Duke's

ighed and

y a one that was not worth your forefinger. It is no such mighty risk either. I'll but step into th

far, and not to be seen; far better Gerard went sup

e bow from infancy, could draw a three-foot arrow to the head, and, when it flew, the eye could scarce follow it, and the bowstring twanged as musical as a harp. This bow had laid many a stout soldier low in the wars of the Hoecks and Cabbel-jaws. In those days a battle-field was not a cloud of smoke; the combatants were few but the deaths many; for they saw what they were about, and fewer bloodless arrows flew than bloodless bullets now. A hare came cantering, then sat sprightly, and her ears made a capital V. Martin levelled his tremendous weapon

o clean through the bird, carrying feathers sky-ward like dust. Instead of falling at his feet, the bird, whose breast was torn, not fairly pierced, flutter

ss the open, but too late to shoot at him. He dashed his bow down with an imprecation. At that moment a long, spotted animal glided swiftly across after the deer; its belly seemed to touch the g

ion. He found the leopard on the buck's back, tearing him with teeth and claw, and the buck running in a circle and bounding convulsively, with the blood pouring down his hide. Then Martin formed a desperate resolution to hav

his cheek, would have been more deadly still, but Martin was old fashioned, and wore no hat, but a scapulary of the same stuff as his jerkin, and this scapulary he had brought over his head like a hood; the brute's claw caught in the loose leather. Martin kept her teeth off his face with great difficulty, and gripped her throat fiercely, and she kept rending his shoulder. It was like blunt reaping-hooks grinding and tearing. The pain was fearful: but, instead of cowing the old soldier, it put his blood up, and he gnashed his teeth with rage almost as fierce as hers, and squeezed her neck with iron force. The two pairs of eyes flared at one another-and now the man's were almost as furious as the brute's. She found he was throttling her, and made a wild attempt to free herself, in which she dragged his cowl all over his face and blinded him, and

id he, "but broil me a st

wounded: she thought the b

anched and bound his own wound apart, and soon he and Ge

ught a flask of Schiedam, and under its influence Martin revived, and to

pale with fear. She gasped, and could not speak, but pointed to the window with trembling finger.

the l

e eyes of green fire, there sounded in the w

her scent. They will find her here, and the venison

ow, and put it into

r, and fling her into the wood

hounds broke

w she must die, or I, or both more likely;" and h

the pieces fell on each side of the bow. The air at the same time

nch? You have put the h

aved you: stand back from the w

t of his girdle, and darted from the room. The house

orm eyes