that they were almost up with her now. Even the osier beds would
afford her no protection from horsemen, and she feared to trust
herself to the slippery ooze when the daylight had fled. With a
short, sharp cry she sank upon the ground, exhausted and half dead
with terror, and she heard the brutal shout of triumph with which
the roisterers hailed this sight.

In another moment they would be upon her. She heard them shouting
to their horses as they pulled them up. But was there not another
sound, too? What was the meaning of that fierce demand in a very
different voice? She lifted her head to see a third rider spurring
up at a hand gallop, and before she had time to make up her mind
whether or not this was a third foe, or a defender suddenly arisen
as it were from the very heart of the earth, she felt herself
covered as by some protecting presence, and heard a firm voice
above her saying:

"The first man who dares attempt to touch her I shoot dead!"

There was a great deal of blustering and swearing and hectoring.
Cherry, still crouched upon the ground, shivered at the hideous
imprecations levelled at her protector, and feared every moment
to see him struck to the ground. But he held his position
unflinchingly, and the tipsy gallants contented themselves with
vituperation and hard words. Perhaps they thought the game not
worth the candle. Perhaps they deemed a simple city maid not worth
the trouble of an encounter. Perhaps they were too unsteady on
their legs to desire to provoke the hostile overtures of this tall,
dark-faced stripling, who appeared ready to do battle with the pair
of them, and that without the least fear. At any rate, after much