bad luck will discover you
to them. If we escape, we'll come back tonight for you." The pit was
camouflaged, looked like a mound of trash beside the trail. Revel
murmured a good-bye, and went plunging on through the coppice to the
other side, Jerran following him nimbly with the strength of second
wind.

Now they could truly run, for Jerran, though forty-two, was no antique;
and Revel had the thews of a woods lion. The way before them was smooth,
grass cropped close by the sheep of Ewyo, gently rolling mounds one
after another so that skimming down one slope gave them impetus to dash
up the next. A faint cheer came to them from the left. The ruck was on
their side.

Perhaps if I die well enough, thought Revel, my death may spark a
revolt, and so count for something. He felt at the hilt of the iron
daggers. Just give me Ewyo, he prayed to whatever higher powers there
might be; just let me have one thrust at Ewyo the Squire!

From the crest of the highest hill he looked back, as Jerran sucked for
breath. The gentry were just topping a rise some half mile behind. Not
bad! But the dogs were much closer. They had gone through the coppice
without discovering Dawvys; now, with any luck, they never would.

Revel ran on. His feet thudded on rock, slithered on grass, shuffled
through the mire of a narrow swampland. Here trees slashed at him, there
a woodchuck sprang out of his path and made him stumble with sudden
panic. His chest labored, drawing in air; his legs pumped and ached.
Then he came to a river.

It was some ten yards broad, with a swift current. He said to Jerran,
"If we can make headway against that current, land up-stream on the
other side, we may have a chance."

The runty yellow man shook his head. "Look up," he gasped. Above them
soared a score of globes, plainly marking their position for the gentry.

"The filthy schemers," growled Revel. "The foul cheats! They call this a
game, yet 'tis as easy for them as it would be to shoot at us in a small
sealed room!" He bent down. "Get on my back, little one." Jerran climbed
on, and Revel grasped his legs, told him to hang tight around his neck,
and leaped into the river.

Only thirty feet across, it was yet quite deep, and Revel sank like a
dropped rock. When the water above his head was so opaque that he could
not distinguish anything save a dull mirky lightness, he struck out
downstream. For a full minute he swam with the current, then began to
rise, Jerran