She tore her hair, and uttered shriek after shriek so wild, so piercing, they fell like a knell upon the ears of Dierich Brower and his men. All started to their feet, and looked at one another. CHAPTER XVI MARTIN WITTENHAAGEN standing at the foot of the stairs with his arrow drawn nearly to the head and his knife behind him, was struck with amazement to see the men come back without Gerard: he lowered his bow, and looked open-mouthed at them. They, for their part, were equally puzzled at the attitude they had caught him in. "Why, mates, was the old fellow making ready to shoot at _us_?" "Stuff!" said Martin, recovering his stolid composure, "I was but trying my new string. There, I'll unstring my bow, if you think that." "Humph!" said Dierich, suspiciously, "there is something more in you than I understand: put a log on, and let us dry our hides a bit, ere we go." A blazing fire was soon made and the men gathered round it, and their clothes and long hair were soon smoking from the cheerful blaze. Then it was that the shrieks were heard in Margaret's room. They all started up, and one of them seized the candle, and ran up the steps that led to the bedrooms. Martin rose hastily, too, and being confused by these sudden screams, and apprehending danger from the man's curiosity, tried to prevent him from going there. At this Dierich threw his arms round him from behind, and called on the others to keep him. The man that had the candle got clear away, and all the rest fell upon Martin, and after a long and fierce struggle, in the course of which they were more than once all rolling on the floor, with Martin in the middle, they succeeded in mastering the old Samson, and binding him hand and foot with a rope they had brought for Gerard. Martin groaned aloud. He saw the man had made his way to Margaret's room during the struggle, and here was he powerless. "Ay, grind your teeth, you old rogue," said Dierich, panting with the struggle. "You shan't use them." "It is my belief, mates, that our lives were scarce safe while this old fellow's bones were free." "He makes me think this Gerard is not far off," put in another. "No such luck," replied Dierich. "Hallo, mates. Jorian Ketel is a long time in that girl's bedroom. Best go and see after him, some of us." The rude laugh caused by this remark had hardly subsided, when hasty footsteps were heard running along overhead. "Oh! here he comes, at last. Well, Jorian, what is to do now up there?" CHAPTER XVII JORIAN KETEL went straight to Margaret's room, and there, to his infinite surprise, he found the man he had been in search of, pale and motionless, his head in Margaret's lap, and she kneeling over him, mute now, and stricken to stone. Her eyes were dilated, yet glazed, and she neither saw the light nor heard the man, nor cared for anything on earth, but the white face in her lap. Jorian stood awe-struck, the candle shaking in his hand. "Why, where was he, then, all the time?"