"Talabor!" she cried, alarmed and bewildered, for she could not see a step before her.

"I'm here!" he exclaimed, starting up from the bare floor, on which he had been lying near the hearth, and rubbing his eyes as he did so.

"I have been asleep," he said, greatly displeased with himself. "I was overpowered somehow, and our fire is out! Never mind, we will soon have another!" and he set to work again with flint and steel. But when the fire was once more blazing, and both were a little thawed, Talabor would not hear of any more sleep.

"I _have_ slept!" he said, still indignant with himself. "For the first time in my life I have slept at my post, slept on duty--I deserve the stocks!"

"And you are not sleepy still?"

"No!" and then he suddenly jumped up from the floor, on which he had but just thrown himself.

"What is it?" asked Dora nervously, and she, too, started up.

"Nothing! nothing--I think," he answered, taking up his bow and quiver as he spoke.

"I hear some noise, I'm sure I do," said Dora, listening intently. "What can it be? Quick! we must put out the fire!"

At that moment, just in front of the house, and, as it seemed to both, close by, there was a long-drawn howl.

"It's wolves, not Tartars," said Talabor, much relieved.

"Oh! then make haste and fasten the door!"

"They won't come in here," said Talabor, as he put the door to. It had been left uninjured by the fire, but its locks and bolts were all too rusty to be of the smallest use. There was a heavy little oak table which had survived the rest of the furniture, however, and this Talabor pushed up against it, saying, "The fire is our best protection against such visitors as these; but dawn is not far off now, and perhaps it would be better not to wait for it before we move on. I should not care to have them taking up their quarters in the yard."

"What are you going to do?" exclaimed Dora, in alarm, "surely you are not going to provoke them?"

"No! and if I should annoy one of them, he will not be able to do much harm after it!"

"I forbid you to do anything rash! You are not to risk your life, Talabor. You are to sit still here, if you don't want to make me angry."

Dora's vehemence was charming, but Talabor never did anything without reflection; and he was not going to have her life imperilled by any ill-timed submission on his own part.

"You may be quite easy," he said, "I am not going to stir from here, and they are not going to come in either!"

The wolves meantime had been drawing nearer and nearer, to judge by their howls. Perhaps they had scented the smoke, and expected to find the dead bodies of men or cattle, as they commonly did in every burning village in those days.

Talabor was standing at the window, bow in hand, when he presently drew back with a hasty movement.

"Quick!" he said in an undertone. "We must put out the fire!"

Dora rushed to it and began scattering and beating it out with a piece of wood.

"What is it?" she whispered; and Talabor whispered back, "I saw someone that I don't like the look of!" Then, holding up his forefinger, he added, "Perhaps there are only one or two; don't be afraid."

These few words, intended to be re-a.s.suring, did not do much to allay Dora's fears, and she went up to Talabor, who was back at the window again, now that the fire was put out. Trembling, she stood beside him, while her cold hand fumbled in her pouch for the dagger which she carried with her.

It cannot be denied that at that moment, in spite of all her high spirit, Dora was terrified.

Thanks to the snow and the stars, Talabor could see clearly enough what was going on outside; and this is what he saw: two m.u.f.fled figures hurrying towards the house, by the very same path which he himself had trodden only a short time before; tracking him by his deep footprints in all probability.

But a few moments after he had told Dora to put out the fire, one of the two figures, an unmistakable Tartar, was overtaken by the wolves, and there began one of those desperate conflicts between man and beast, which more often than not ended in the defeat of the former, firearms not being as yet in existence.

"Here! Help! Father!" shouted the one attacked. He had beaten down one wolf, with a sort of club, and was trying his utmost to defend himself against two others. At this appeal, made, by-the-bye, in the purest Magyar, the man in front hurried back to the help of his son.

"Surely he spoke Magyar!" whispered Dora.

"There are only two of them, at all events," was Talabor's answer, that fact being much the more rea.s.suring of the two in his eyes, for he had heard, during their wanderings, that there were more "Tartar-Magyars"

in the world than Libor the clerk.

He fitted an arrow to his bow, as he spoke, and added, in an undertone, "They are coming, and the wolves after them! but there are only two, nothing to be afraid of; trust me to manage them!"

In fact the two men were already floundering in the courtyard, and close at their heels rushed the whole pack, disappearing now and again in the deep snow, then lifting up their s.h.a.ggy heads out of it, while they kept up an incessant chorus of howls.

Tartar-Magyars might be enemies, but wolves certainly were, thought Talabor, as he let fly his arrow and stretched the foremost wolf upon the ground, just as it was in the act of seizing one of the Tartars.

Apparently the fugitives had not heard the tw.a.n.g of the bow-string, for as soon as they caught sight of the open door, they hurried towards it with the one idea of escaping their pursuers, so it seemed.

But when Talabor again took aim, and a second wolf tumbled over, one of the men looked up, saw the arrow sticking in the wolf's back, and cried out, as if thunderstruck, "Tartars! per amorem Dei patris!" (Tartars!

for the love of G.o.d!) And having so said, he stopped short, irresolute, as not knowing which of the two dangers threatening him it were better to grapple with.

Talabor heard the exclamation, and, whether or no he understood more than the first word, at least he knew that it was uttered in Latin. The fugitives must surely be ecclesiastics, who had adopted the Tartar dress merely for safety's sake.

"Hungari, non Tartari--We are Hungarians, not Tartars!" he replied in the same language, leaning from the window as he shouted the words.

Whereupon that one of the "Tartars" who had spoken before called out again, as if in answer, "Amici! Friends," and turned upon the wolves, two of which had been so daring as to follow him and his companion even up the steps. The nearer of the two he attacked with his short club; but his comrade, who had been hurrying after him, slipped and fell down, and the other wolf at once rushed upon him and began tearing away at his cowl.

Talabor meanwhile, being completely rea.s.sured by the word "Amici,"

turned to Dora saying, "Glory to G.o.d, we are saved! They are good men, monks, as much wanderers as ourselves!"

He pulled the table away from the door, s.n.a.t.c.hed a brand from the still smouldering fire, waved it to and fro till it burst into flame, and then rushed out with it through the hall into the entry, where the learned one of the two supposed Tartars was hammering away at the head of the huge wolf which had got hold of his friend, whose rough outer garment it was worrying in a most determined manner. The rest of the pack, about twenty, seemed not at all concerned at the loss of their four companions lying outstretched in the snow, for they were drawing nearer and nearer to the entry, and were lifting up their heads as if desirous of joining in the fray going on within, while they howled up and down the scale with all their might.

But the moment Talabor appeared with his flaming torch they were cowed, turned tail, and tumbled, rather than ran, down the steps in a panic.

Head over heels they rushed towards the gate, some of the hindmost getting their tails singed as they fled.

Meantime the two strangers seeing the enemy thus put to flight, took courage, and thought apparently to complete the rout, for they rushed off after the retreating wolves and were for pursuing them even beyond the gate, when they were checked by a shout from Talabor, who called to them to stop.

They stood still, up to their waists in snow, and looked at him, wondering and half doubting who and what he might be.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Magyars! infelices captivi--Unfortunate captives," answered the learned one.

"We are Magyars!" said the other in Hungarian.

"If you are Magyars, follow me," said Talabor, and the strangers obeyed.

It was dark no longer, but still it was difficult to judge of the men by their looks, for they wore the rough Tartar hoods over their heads, and the one who had been mauled by the wolf had his hanging about his face in lappets and ribbons.

Talabor could see just so much as this, that neither was very young, that both were wasted to the last degree, and that they were as begrimed as if they had been hung up to dry in the smoke for some weeks.