ome one had walked by here
barefooted with a lighter tread. Indeed, not one person, but several.
For besides one mark which seemed to belong to a child, always one step
behind was a somewhat heavier and broader impression, and invariably at
the right of it a narrow but deep little hole filled with water, as if
made by the sharp end of a staff, while partly at the left, partly two
paces in advance, a man's heavier tread seemed unmistakable.

The Roman followed the footprints with eager zeal; if he did not find
those whom he sought, he would have the credit of being the first to
discover the direction in which the Barbarians had fled. Suddenly the
traces appeared to vanish, in front of a large hawthorn bush which
barred the way. From beneath the hand thrusting the thorns aside a
little brown bird with a red breast flew up startled. Bending forward,
the Roman peered into the bush, then a cry of glad surprise escaped his
lips: "Aha! She passed here! She herself!"

Slowly, slowly he drew through his hand a shining red-gold hair which
had caught on a thorn: it was at least an ell long. And beyond the
thorn-bush the footprints were again visible, even more distinctly than
before, on a patch of damp sand. What seemed a child's footprints were
made by her steps.

CHAPTER XV.

The underbrush grew thinner, evidently removed by human hands; a few
steps more and the pursuer stood in an open space in the forest which
had been cleared by fire. Here stood a little hut, very roughly built
of unhewn logs: instead of doors two low narrow holes were opposite
each other. Such buildings were used by hunters for stations, by
shepherds overtaken in the forest by storms for a shelter, but
especially to keep quantities of hay which could not be dragged to the
distant barns. That was the case here; heaps of the grass piled in
stacks could be seen through the holes.

Before Herculanus had reached the hut, an indistinct sound reached his
ear from the right, the shore of the lake. He drew his sword and
stopped, listening intently. There it came again! Was it a cry? It
seemed like the shout with which Romans on guard gave warning of the
presence of a foe. Directly afterwards he heard another noise: it was
like the whirring of the string in bending and releasing the wood of
the bow, then came a heavy fall or plunge into the water, and all was
still again. Nothing but the metallic tapping of the woodpecker broke