The person who spoke was a young man of some nineteen or twenty years of age, rather effeminate than otherwise in his appearance, and with a great quantity of long black hair,[1] beautifully curled and parted in front. As he spoke he pulled back violently the hood from Eva's face, and al the same moment cast his arm round her slender waist. She struggled to free herself, entreated, threatened her father's wrath; but he heard not or heeded not; those were days of unbridled license, when even churches and monasteries did not give security; and the walls of the castle were woman place of safety against insult and brutal violence. Terror took possession of the daughter of St. Clair, and she screamed loudly again and again. Ere the second cry had issued from her lips, however, some one darted from the wood, and in a moment another followed him. Both were dressed as woodmen, and again Eva screamed loudly, holding forth her arms towards the one who first appeared. "Get thee back, churl," cried the man who held her, still detaining her with his left arm while he drew his sword with his right; "get thee back, or, by Heaven, I will send thy soul to the place appointed for the serfs in the other world;" and he laughed aloud at his own jest. His laughter was soon over, however, for the stranger was upon him in a moment with a broad axe drawn from his belt and glittering in his hand. The proud noble struck at him with his sword; but, to his surprise, the axe met the blow and parried it, as a weapon in the hand of a skilful swordsman. With a bitter curse he let go his hold of Eva, and rushed forward upon his adversary; but he had scarcely time to strike another blow, when his opponent, turning the back of the axe, struck him first on the shoulder a blow that brought him on his knee, and then another on the forehead, which, though lighter than the first, laid him stunned and bleeding on the earth. "Lie there, Earl of Northampton," said his adversary: and then, giving one glance to Eva, who had fled to some distance, he turned towards the other horseman, who had likewise drawn his sword, and, with furious and blasphemous invectives, was pressing fiercely upon the second person who had come to Eva's rescue. That other horseman was even younger than the first; but pride, and violence were stamped on every feature, and vice had written early marks of its blighting effects upon his countenance. "Walter, Walter," cried the voice of him who had so soon terminated the contest with the Earl of Northampton, "leave him, Walter; it is the king's son! The lady is safe. Leave him, I say."