By now most of the group within the glade knew the man, for the whole countryside knew his history. He was a harmless half-wit who, in years agone, had been as bright and forward as any man until one evil day when he had been hired by a company of merchants to set them through the forest, for such was the business he followed. This he had undertaken, riding the bell-horse at the head of the company; but the caravan had been set upon by robber knights, who spoiled the merchants of their goods. In the affair Hutten, the guide, had been wounded in the head, so that his wits were hurt; and since that day he had wandered in the forest, no man’s man, living such ways as he might, but ever thinking himself estrayed from that company which he led, and seeking it, that he might guide the merchants through the woods. It was talked among the forest folk and in the villages of the district that the guide had really been faithless and had led his charge into the ambush which those knights had made, and for this reason many feared and shunned the man, even while they pitied him with the rough pity of the time. As to the truth of this harsh belief, however, no man knew, but many, when they heard his bell, which he had taken from the horse he had ridden that day, turned aside and went their ways, crossing themselves and praying to be delivered from the black sin of falseness to friends. The stranger was plainly taken aback at the sight of the unfriendly-looking men in the open. He had been wailing forth a _miserere_ as he walked, but the words were hushed upon his lips as he stood in his tracks for an instant and then turned to flee. But the one-armed man did a woeful thing, whereat even Conradt cried out in dismay. Plucking from his belt a short dagger, he hurled it, with a curse upon him for giving them such a fright, after the retreating figure. The dagger struck the half-wit in the back, whereupon he gave a great cry and staggered forward out of sight, while the dastard stood half appalled at his own wickedness. Then all the robbers turned away from the doer of that foul deed, even the blind men refusing to be led away by him, as was evidently their wont, choosing instead to follow Conradt and the others out into the forest. Left thus to himself, the outcast struck into the woods alone, and soon not a sound could be heard of any of that company. For a time Wulf and Elise dared not stir, but sat looking at each other with blanched faces, and lips still parted in horror. Then Wulf found tongue. “We must get from here,” he whispered hoarsely, wiping away the cold sweat that stood in great drops on his forehead. “Ay, but ’twas a fearsome sight. I wonder thou didst not faint nor scream, Elise. In truth, thou’rt stern stuff for such a slip of a maiden.” But Elise could only shake her head. “Take me away,” she moaned at last. “I can bear no more!”