"Keep ye to me!" shouted the man. "It was I--it was Mads Jyde who shot. I mean not to show a pair of clean heels: let the maidens flee, they have done no ill, but I am the man who dares tilt with ye all." So saying, he brandished his sword wildly around, and wounded the Marsk's horse on the muzzle. The animal reared and snorted. "Yield thee!" shouted Oluffsen, vainly aiming to strike his daring and gigantic foe; "Yield thee captive, or thou diest!" On hearing this affray, the king would instantly have hastened to the spot, where he saw swords glittering among the bushes in the moonshine; but Aage and the Swedish knight sought to detain him, while Count Henrik immediately surrounded the copse with the huntsmen, and dispatched a party of them after the fugitives. The Marsk had sprung from his intractable steed, "Cast thy sword from thee, stupid devil! Seest thou not thou art caught?" shouted he to the tall Jutlander. "By St. Michael will I not," retorted the man. "None shall take Marsk Stig's squire alive; keep but your ground, Sir Knight, and thou shalt feel what Mads Jyde is worth." He now rushed frantically upon the Marsk, but the warlike chief was his superior in swordsmanship, and after a short but desperate fight the Jutlander fell, with his skull cloven, to the ground. He half-raised himself again, and tried to lift both his hands to his wounded head. "It was for thee, little Margaret," he gasped forth; "let but my master's children flee, and you are free to----" More he was unable to utter; his hands dropped from his head, and he fell back lifeless on the ground. Meanwhile the king and his train had ridden to the spot. Some of the hunters had overtaken the fugitive maidens, and brought them captive into the circle of the king's train. All looked at them with surprise, for as they stood there in the moonshine they had the air of princesses in disguise. Their peasant's attire could not hide the delicate fairness of their complexions and their singular beauty. The taller of the two, who seemed also to be the elder, held the lesser and highly agitated maiden by the hand, as if to protect her. She was herself calm and pale. She looked in deep sorrow on the dead body of the man at arms, and appeared not to heed the standers by. The younger maiden seemed to be both frightened and curious. Though she could not be considered a child--for she appeared to be about seventeen or eighteen years of age--her deportment was quite childlike. She hid herself, weeping, behind her sister, from the sight of the king and his knights, while she nevertheless occasionally peeped, with looks of eager observation, at their splendid attire. "Speak out--who are ye?" asked the king, riding up to them.