"'No, no; let us have fair and honorable sport. We are no cowards, and while we have strong hands and sharp lances, the brute shall fall by forest law!' "In those days there was nothing the knights loved so well, next to a battle, as a good bear or wolf hunt. And hunting a wolf, was really rendering good service to the state, and thankful enough the farmers were that the brave knights would do it. It was better, far better, than hunting the dappled roe, or the timid hare, better than going forth with hawks and hounds to the sport of falconry—better, a thousand times better, than doing fierce cruel work on battle-fields. "How the horses pawed the ground, while the noble creatures tossed their heads and champed upon the bit, and seemed to cry 'hurra!' as the men, the servitors and pages, gathered round with brightening looks, and whispered cheerful words, and poised their lances in the air ready to take deadly aim. "'Now,' cried the knight, 'if any man is unwilling for the fray, let him fall back; I would not force a man to risk life or limb for me.' "Force them!—As if they wanted forcing! Why, there was not a man there, but was as ready as the knight could be himself to see the end of Master Wolf. "The crowd pressed closer, and George's eyes grew bright. Now the wolf, the cruel wolf was to be slain; he clenched his hands, and a bright flush was on his cheeks, as he waited to see what would be the end of it. "That group was one of the most curious pictures you ever saw. There were many of the peasants in their simple homely dress: shepherds from the sheepcotes; and tillers of the ground; and old Martin the miller—a great stout man, nearly as broad as he was long; and the smith, the strong, sturdy, horny-handed farrier; and there, too, was the gallant retinue of the count, in all the glitter of silk and gold, green silk and golden lace in vast abundance; and there was Conrad in his tightly-fitting suit of purple velvet, mounted on his neat little white horse, and balancing his lance as if he had been used to the sport for fifty years or more; and there, too, was the knight himself, a really noble-looking gentleman. The knight and his retinue contrasted strangely with the humble group of peasants, and especially with the old man, to whom George had lent help, and with George himself, as he stood there, with his pretty piebald goat by the side of him. "The old man placed the long sharp knife in George's hand, and led aside the goat. Conrad, delighted beyond measure, was poising a lance in the air, and galloping from place to place, quite overjoyed. The peasants shrank back in dismay, as the knight gave the word of command: "Quick! Fall into order, let whoever has courage open the door!' "There was a momentary pause, and then one of the huntsmen, armed with a lance, cast back the stout oaken door. There was no sign or sound from within. "'Send in the dogs,' cried the knight.