Summary

Portrait of H. Rider Haggard H. Rider Haggard Lysbeth: A Tale of the Dutch — Chapter XI: ADRIAN RESCUES BEAUTY IN DISTRESS (1901)

But here, in the dense grove, the fading light grew faint, so that at length he was obliged to abandon the quest in despair, and turned to find his way to the Leyden road. When within twenty paces of it, suddenly he came upon hawk and heron. The heron was stone dead, and the brave falcon so injured that it seemed hopeless to try to save her, for as he feared, they had crashed through the boughs of a tree in their fall. Adrian looked at her in dismay, for he loved this bird, which was the best of its kind in the city, having trained her himself from a nestling.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of H. Rider Haggard H. Rider Haggard Lysbeth: A Tale of the Dutch — Chapter XI: ADRIAN RESCUES BEAUTY IN DISTRESS (1901)

You don't want us to think you a hero because you didn't turn tail and leave Elsa and her companions in their hands, do you?"
"What you think, or do not think, is a matter of indifference to me," replied Adrian, seating himself with an injured air.
"Whatever my cousin Foy may think, Heer Adrian," broke in Elsa anxiously, "I am sure I thank God who sent so brave a gentleman to help us. Yes, yes, I mean it, for it makes me sick to remember what might have happened if you had not rushed at those wicked men like--like----"
"Like David on the Philistines," suggested Foy.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of H. Rider Haggard H. Rider Haggard Lysbeth: A Tale of the Dutch — Chapter XI: ADRIAN RESCUES BEAUTY IN DISTRESS (1901)

A third time she soared upwards in great circles, and a third time rushed downwards, now striking the quarry full and binding to it. Adrian, who was following their flight as fast as he could run, leaping some of the dykes in his path and splashing through others, saw and paused to watch the end. For a moment hawk and quarry hung in the air two hundred feet above the tallest tree beneath them, for at the instant of its taking the heron had begun to descend to the grove for refuge, a struggling black dot against the glow of sunset.
Source: Wikisource

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