At the same moment a long wailing cry from the forest called the wolves off.  They retreated suddenly, disappearing apparently by magic into the depths of the forest, leaving their dead in quivering heaps all about the little bare glade where the unequal fight had been fought.

Malise the Brawny flung down the wolf whose head had served him with such deadly effect as a weapon against his brethren.  The beast had long been dead, with a skull smashed in and a neck dislocated by the sweeping blows it had dealt its kin.

“Sholto!  My Lord James!” cried Malise, coming up to them hastily.  “How fares it with you?”

“We are both here,” answered his son.  “Come and help me with the Lord James.  He has fallen faint with the stress of his armour.”

After the disappearance of the wolves the unearthly brilliance of the wild-fire gradually diminished, and now it flickered paler and less frequently.

But another hail from Sholto revealed to Malise the whereabouts of his companions, and presently he also was on his knees beside the young Lord of Avondale.

Sholto gave him into the strong arms of Malise and stood erect to listen for any renewal of the attack.  The wise smith, whose skill as a leech was proverbial, carefully felt James Douglas all over in the darkness, and took advantage of every flicker of summer lightning to examine him as well as his armour would permit.

“Help me to loosen his gorget and ease him of his body mail,” said Malise, at last.  “He has gotten a bite or two, but nothing that appears serious.  I think he has but fainted from pressure.”

Sholto bent down and with his dagger cut string by string the stout leathern twists which secured the knight’s mail.  And as he did so his father widened it out with his powerful fingers to ease the weight upon the young man’s chest.

Presently, with a long sigh, James Douglas opened his eyes.

“Where are the wolves?” he said, with a grimace of disgust.  Sholto told him how all that were left alive had, for the present at least, disappeared.

“Ugh, the filthy brutes!” said Lord James.  “I fought till the stench of their hot breaths seemed to stifle me.  I felt my head run round like a dog in a fit, and down I went.  What happened after that?”

“This,” said Malise, sententiously, pointing to the heaps of dead wolves which were becoming more apparent as the night ebbed and the blue flame rose and fell like a fluttering pulse along the horizon.

“Then to one or the other of you I owe my life,” said Lord James Douglas, reaching a hand to both.

“Sholto dragged you from under half a dozen of the devils,” said Malise.

“My father it was who brought you to,” said Sholto.

“I thank you both with all my heart—­for this as for all the rest.  I know not, indeed, where to begin,” said James Douglas, gratefully.  “Give me your hands.  I can stand upright now.”