The young knight wheeled in time to see the murderous crook-back plucking his long blade from the earth, where it had buried itself to the very hilt under the impetus that was meant to have been expended upon Sir Richard's body. In another moment the young knight had grappled with him; and then they went rolling and threshing over the ground in the throes of a deadly encounter. "God! what a strength is there in this grossly misshapen body!" Sir Richard thought, and though he kept tight hold of the hunchback's knife hand, every moment Sir Richard feared that he would succeed in turning the blade and driving it home in his neck. So narrow was the margin between the young knight and death withal, that once the keen point traveled across his throat and opened a slight scratch. "You will kill my hound? you damned sword-and-buckler knight!" Zenas kept hissing in Sir Richard's ear. "You abominable puppet, you would cheat my good brother of his head to set you on a throne!--you fustian, lack-linen pretender!--you flap-dragon tippler!--I'll send you whirling straight to hell, an I get me this poniard home!" It happened by the merest stroke of fortune that, in their furious tumbling about, the hunchback's head struck with a great violence against the log whereupon Rocelia had been sitting. His forbidding form grew instantly limp and insensible, and the young knight leaped quickly to his feet. A drop or two of blood was trickling down his breast-plate from the scratch across his neck. The moment that Sir Richard was fairly up Rocelia was in his arms, with her lips laid close upon his. Then, thrusting him impulsively from her, she tore open her cloak, ripped a quantity of lace from her gown, and began binding it around his neck. "You'll not be very much hurt, Richard ... dear Dick?" said she, kissing him again. He did not say her too strong a nay (for which he was soon forgiven!), for Sir Richard discovered that when he but so much as hesitated he had another kiss. "Oh, Richard, my love," said Rocelia, "take me away. I understand it all now--this murderous treachery, this stabbing in the back ... these fearsome, dark conspiracies! But take me, dear, to that place of rest, and peace, and sweet contentment. Even now I am ready." Thus, with his arm clasped tight about her, they sought the road and their waiting horses. Eftsoons they were on their way, taking the narrower road to the left, which would lead them the more directly to the hut where the young knight had left de Claverlok. It was late that evening when they drew out of the deep forest, far above and to the northwest of their starting point. Many leagues behind them, and rising high into the heavens, they could see a lurid splotch of light, glowing red and yellow in the mystic darkness. "'Tis the end of the Red Tavern," said Sir Richard. "Well," whispered Rocelia, "it brought you to me, dear Richard." "And to me, sweet Rocelia," said the young knight earnestly, "it brought you."