She reached the shallows on the farther side, and putting up her hands, unfastened the net that held her hair, and as she rose she let her hair fall in black masses, covering her like a veil. The water lay in a grey circle about her waist. She raised her arms and held them out to him, half mockingly. “Come. Am I to dare you again? If you can catch me—I am yours.” Fulk had bent down and was unfastening his shoes when he heard a rustling in the brushwood on the other side of the mere. Isoult’s back was turned towards the farther bank, where the thicket that had hidden Merlin came close to the water’s edge. It was not ten paces from where Isoult stood, and as Fulk raised his head he saw two men spring out from among the hazels and dash into the shallows towards Isoult. He stood up, shouting. “Swim! swim!” Fulk saw her throw herself forward and dive like a waterfowl under the water. But her long hair that she had loosened proved her undoing. It floated long enough for one of the fellows to snatch at it and to draw her back. Then Fulk saw her, struggling, naked, trying to break away from the men who held her. “Fulk—Fulk!” For the first time he heard fear in her voice, and his love was like wine poured upon fire. “Dogs, off—off!” A scoffing voice answered him across the mere. “Who catches—holds.” Merlin came out from behind the hazels, and stood watching the men struggling with Isoult. Her hair fell all about her as they half carried and half dragged her up the bank to where Merlin stood. Three more men came out of the thicket. An old cloak was thrown about Isoult, and the men closed round her, hiding her from Fulk’s view. Merlin looked over the water. “If the stag follows the doe, he shall give up his antlers.” CHAPTER XXXIII Fulk ran back into the great hall, caught up his sword from the table, but did not tarry to think of shield or helmet. His rage blew like a north wind, and his face met it, bleak and grim. “God!” He saw nothing but Isoult, naked and afraid, struggling in the hands of those two men. And Merlin! The devil in Fulk was a silent devil, with hard eyes and a cruel mouth. The group over the water was making away towards the beech woods. Fulk unchained the boat, sprang in, and laying his sword on one of the seats, took the pole and sent the boat surging over. The prow ran well up the bank, and stuck fast among the flags and sedges. He had scarcely set foot on the grass when two men dashed at him out of the thicket. That sword of his looked a slim thing to tackle a brown bill and stout oak cudgel, but Fulk was as cool as the steel, though a devil’s temper raged in him. He was too quick and too fierce for these clumsy slashers. One had the point in his throat, the other was cut to the left ear. Fulk left them lying, and ran on.