But Wolf was too firmly in the fangs of Grim; and now Harden's horn was sounding in shrill tones in the hollows, announcing to the unfortunate victor the near approach of the fierce chief, but no longer awaking the ear of the victim, who lay already stiff among the green leaves of the forest. The dogs were still fast, and he must spend as much time in disengaging them as would bring the father of the slain youth to the scene of his sorrow and revenge, or he must braid on with the top-speed of his favourite Sorrel, and leave his dog an evidence of the deed, that, if traced to him, would bring ruin on his home, his wife, and his children, and all the retainers of Gilmanscleugh. Springing off, and nerved with the force of despair, he flung himself on the wrestling dogs, and laying hold of the throat of Harden's, he clutched it with such strength that the animal opened his jaws, gasping for breath, and turning up his eyeballs beneath the lids, fell on his side; but his revengeful opponent, no sooner free from the gripe which had bound him, seized Grim in his turn; and Gilmanscleugh saw before him an alternation of a process of choking that would consume more than his hurrying moments. There was not an instant for deliberation: seizing his sword, he stuck it into the heart of the dog, and, detaching Wolf, sprung to his saddle, and flew through the forest with the speed of light; while his faithful animal, seeing no longer life in his enemy, forsook his prey and his revenge, and bounded away after his flying master. But too much time had, unfortunately for Gilmanscleugh, been already lost in disengaging the dogs; for the twang of a bow announced to him, as he hurried on, that a messenger more fleet than Sorrel was after him, and, looking round, he saw his faithful attendant fall to the ground, with a long shaft quivering in his smoking side. "There is my king's evidence left behind me," muttered he, as he stuck the rowels deeper in the sides of his horse. "Wae to Gilmanscleugh when Harden has to avenge the death o' a son slain by his arm! Braid on, good Sorrel, to a flaming stable, and carry your master to what may be sune a lordless ha'!"