Meeting the look and understanding a small part of its question, he said a reassuring word in his pleasant low-pitched voice: “Be of good cheer, youngling; there is no thought of eating you. I will bring you to a cup of wine before moonrise, if you hold fast.” It is doubtful if the girl so much as heard him. Her eyes were passing from feature to feature of his face, as the stars revealed it above her,—from the broad comely brow to the square young chin, from the clean-cut fine-tempered mouth to the clear true eyes. One by one she noted them, and shade by shade her strained look of fear relaxed. Slowly she forgot her dread; and forgetting, her mind wandered to other things,—to memories of her father, and of the happy evenings by the fire when she had nestled safe in his arms,—safe and sheltered and beloved. With eyes still turned up toward his face, her lids drooped and fell; and her head sank upon his breast and lay there, in the peace of perfect faith. CHAPTER IX. The Young Lord of Ivarsdale Brand is kindled from brand Till it is burnt out; Fire is kindled from fire; A man gets knowledge By talk with a man, But becomes wilful by self-conceit. Hávamál. Tap—tap, tap—tap, like dripping water dripping slowly. Drop by drop the sound filtered through the thick wrappings of Randalin’s slumber, till she knew it for the beat of horses’ hoofs, and stirred and opened her eyes. The silver shimmer of starlight falling through purple deeps had given way to the ruddy glare of a camp fire, and she was lying just beyond its heat, cloak-wrapped, on a bed of leaves. Above her, interlacing beech boughs made an arching roof, under which the shadows clustered as swallows under eaves. Before her, green tree-lanes opened out like corridors. As far as the fireglow could reach, they were flooded with golden light; where it stopped, they were closed across by darkness as by gray-black doors. Within the sylvan alcove, some four-score battle-stained warriors were taking their ease after a hard day. Some of them were engaged in the ghastly business of bandaging wounds, and some were already asleep; but the greater number lounged in the firelight, drinking and feasting on strips of venison which serfs had cooked in the flames. Through the fog of her drowsiness Randalin recognized them slowly. Yonder was the Englishman who had found her in the bushes. Beyond him, across the fire, the soldiers who had lifted her up to the horse-man. Here, just in front of her, was the leader himself. Her gaze settled upon him dreamily.