Malice had drawn knife, or struck again and again.

How often have men been smitten with staves not one but many blows, yet no lives lost! If then your enemy has fallen, it is through his own malice, not yours, and by the will of God." "Bless you, Margaret; bless you for thinking so!" "Yes; but, beloved one, if you have had the misfortune to kill that wicked man, the more need is there that you fly with haste from Holland.
Oh, let us on." "Nay, Margaret," said Gerard.

"I fear not man's vengeance, thanks to Martin here and this thick wood: only Him I fear whose eye pierces the forest and reads the heart of man.

If I but struck in self-defence, 'tis well; but if in hate, He may bid the avenger of blood follow me to Italy--to Italy?
ay, to earth's remotest bounds." "Hush!" said Martin peevishly.

"I can't hear for your chat." "What is it ?" "Do you hear nothing, Margaret; my ears are getting old." Margaret listened, and presently she heard a tuneful sound, like a single stroke upon a deep ringing bell.