Margaret put her hands to her face, but said nothing.
She saw this man must die or Gerard.

After the first impulse she peered through her fingers, her heart panting to her throat.
The bow was raised, and the deadly arrow steadily drawn to its head, when at that moment an active figure leaped on Ghysbrecht from behind so swiftly, it was like a hawk swooping on a pigeon.

A kerchief went over the burgomaster, in a turn of the hand his head was muffled in it, and he was whirled from his seat and fell heavily upon the ground, where he lay groaning with terror; and Gerard jumped down after him.
"Hist, Martin! Martin!" Martin and Margaret came out, the former openmouthed crying, "Now fly! fly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved." At this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have it, Margaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, partly from loss of blood.
"Oh, my beloved, fly!" she gasped.

"Leave me, for I am faint." "No! no!" cried Gerard.

"Death together, or safety.