But as he spoke, there was another shriek, apparently before them; and each struck his horse with the spur, and dashed on. No other sound met their ear, however, except what seemed the distant galloping of a horse, which might be but the echo of their own beasts' feet. When they reached the spot where, on the preceding night, they had seen the wild fire over the moor, Hal of Hadnock again drew in his rein, saying, "It came from somewhere here." "It seemed to me near where we then were," replied Richard of Woodville. "Perchance 'twas but some villagers got drunk at that Glutton mass. See, there is the otter again!" "It was a shriek of pain or terror," answered his companion. "Otter!--that is no otter! Here, hold my horse," and springing from the saddle in a moment, he dashed down the bank, and plunged into the river. Though shallow in most places, it there formed a deep pool; but Hal of Hadnock, expert in all exercises alike, struck out at once, and caught the object he had seen, just as it was sinking. A feeling of horror and alarm seized him, as his hand grasped the long hair of a woman; but raising her head above the water again, he held it gently on his left arm, and with his right swam in towards the shore. "Here, help, Richard," he cried, "set the horses free, and take her. 'Tis a woman!" Woodville was down the bank in a moment, exclaiming, "Who is it?--who is it?" "I know not," answered Hal of Hadnock, raising her so far above the water, that his companion could grasp her in his arms and lift her out; but as he himself followed, placing one knee on the shore, with a sad heart, he heard his companion exclaim, in the accents of deep grief-- "Good Heaven! it is Catherine!" "Quick! bear her to the nearest house!" cried Hal of Hadnock; "the spark of life may be still there. I will follow with the horses." "Up the short path to the right, lies the chanter's," cried Richard, raising the unhappy girl in his stout arms, and running along the road. The horses were easily caught, and mounting one, and leading the other, Hal of Hadnock followed, obtaining a glance of his companion just as he turned from the highway, towards a spot where the thatch of a small house peeped up above some trees. He was at the door as soon as Woodville; and, lifting the latch, they both went in. An old man and woman were sitting before the fire; but the sudden entrance of two men roused them in fear; and, when they saw who it was, and what they bore, all was eager hurry and lamentation. The inanimate body of Catherine Beauchamp, however, was speedily laid in the old chanter's bed, in the neighbouring chamber; and such simple means as first suggested themselves were employed to ascertain if life were still within that fair and silent frame. But she lay calm and still as if asleep, with her features full of a sweet placidity, such as they had seldom worn in life.