those parchments; my mind misgave me: why did I let you take them?""Margaret, they are but a blind: Giles says so.No matter: the old caitiff shall never see them again; I will not go till I have hidden his treasure where he shall never find it." Gerard then, after thanking Giles warmly, bade him farewell, and told him to go back and tell Kate he was gone."For I shall be gone ere you reach home," said he.He then shouted for Martin; and told him what had happened.and begged him to go a little way towards Tergou, and watch the road.
"Ay!" said Martin, "and if I see Dirk Brower or any of his men, Iwill shoot an arrow into the oak-tree that is in our garden; and on that you must run into the forest hard by, and meet me at the weird hunter's spring.Then I will guide you through the wood."Surprise thus provided against, Gerard breathed again.He went with Margaret, and while she watched the oak-tree tremblingly, fearing every moment to see an arrow strike among the branches, Gerard dug a deep hole to bury the parchments in.
He threw them in, one by one.They were nearly all charters and records of the burgh; but one appeared to be a private deed between Floris Brandt, father of Peter, and Ghysbrecht.
"Why, this is as much yours as his," said Gerard."I will read this.""Oh, not now, Gerard, not now," cried Margaret."Every moment you lose fills me with fear; and see, large drops of rain are beginning to fall, and the clouds lower."Gerard yielded to this remonstrance; but he put the deed into his bosom, and threw the earth in over the others, and stamped it down.While thus employed there came a flash of lightning followed by a peal of distant thunder, and the rain came down heavily.
Margaret and Gerard ran into the house, whither they were speedily followed by Martin.
"The road is clear," said he, "and a heavy storm coming on."His words proved true.The thunder came nearer and nearer till it crashed overhead: the flashes followed one another close, like the strokes of a whip, and the rain fell in torrents.Margaret hid her face not to see the lightning.On this, Gerard put up the rough shutter and lighted a candle.The lovers consulted together, and Gerard blessed the storm that gave him a few hours more with Margaret.The sun set unperceived, and still the thunder pealed, and the lightning flashed, and the rain poured.Supper was set;but Gerard and Margaret could not eat: the thought that this was the last time they should sup together choked them.The storm lulled a little.Peter retired to rest.But Gerard was to go at peep of day, and neither he nor Margaret could afford to lose an hour in sleep.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.