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"Lord, look for him in Martle Brush"

"Ah! And where is that?"

"Lord, it is here by," said Isoult

Prosper looked about him sharply He found that they had left the

heath, and were riding down a srassy place into a deep valley

The decline was dotted with young oak-trees, sparse at the top but

thickening in clusters and ranks lower down Between the stems, but at

sorass

by a brook at the bottorew still

thicker with holly trees and yews interspersed with the oaks: the land

he could see rose more abruptly on that side, and was densely wooded

to the top of another ridge as high as that which he and Isoult

descended The ridge itself was iloom

which never left it at this season of the year As he studied the

place, Martle Brush as he supposed it to be, he saw a hart in the herd

stop feeding and lift his head to snuff the air, then with his antlers

thrown back, trot off along the brook, and all the herd behind hi; he knew the deer had not winded him The breeze