Martin sat a while, too; for he was fitting a new string to his bow, a matter in which he was very nice.
The lovers murmured their sorrows and their love beside him.
Suddenly the old man held up his hand to them to be silent.
They were quiet and listened, and heard nothing.

But the next moment a footstep crackled faintly upon the autumn leaves that lay strewn in the garden at the back door of the house.

To those who had nothing to fear such a step would have said nothing; but to those who had enemies it was terrible.

For it was a foot trying to be noiseless.
Martin fitted an arrow to his string and hastily blew out the candle.

At this moment, to their horror, they heard more than one footstep approach the other door of the cottage, not quite so noiselessly as the other, but very stealthily--and then a dead pause.
Their blood froze in their veins.
"Oh, Kate, oh, Kate! You said fly on the instant." And Margaret moaned and wrung her hands in anguish and terror and wild remorse for having kept Gerard.
"Hush, girl!" said Martin, in a stern whisper.
A heavy knock fell on the door.
And on the hearts within..