singing in
the glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thought
nothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of the
multitudinous sound of the singing birds as, with a confused sound of
galloping hoofs, they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a
slow-curling, low-trailing cloud of dust.

As the sun rose more full and warm, the misty wreaths began to dissolve,
until at last they parted and rolled asunder like a white curtain and
there, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the crest of the mountain
toward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply.

"Yonder they are," cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of
Trutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward.

Far away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the midst
of which came the star-like flash of burnished armor gleaming in the
sun.

Baron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile.

And as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and down
into the leafy valley beneath. "Yonder they come," said he. "They have
followed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though our horses are
wearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yon these five
days past. How far is it, Lord Baron, from here to Michaelsburg?"

"About ten leagues," said the Baron, in a gloomy voice.

Hans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothing
of it, for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face.
Those who followed him looked at one another, and the same thought was
in the mind of each--how long would it be before those who pursued would
close the distance between them?

When that happened it meant death to one and all.

They reached the crest of the hill, and down they dashed upon the other
side; for there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into the
valley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then those
who followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gained
a mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crest
of the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth road
between them, and fresh horses to weary ones?

On they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher, and
hotter and hotter. There was no time to rest and water their panting
horses. Only once, when they crossed a shallow stretch of water, the
poor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps fro