is a long way off," Dolores remarked, "and our horses perhaps
won't last for more than another half day."

"That's their lookout," cried Simon. "We shall finish the journey on
foot. The great thing is to reach the French coast. Let us make a
start."

At two hundred yards' distance, in a depression of the soil, the cable
rose from the river and ran straight to a sand-bank, after which it
appeared once more, like one of those roads which show in sections on
uneven plains.

"It will lead you to Dieppe," said a wandering Frenchman, whom Simon
had stopped. "I've just come from there. You've only to follow it."

They followed it in silence. A mute companion, speaking none save
indispensable words, Dolores seemed to be always self-absorbed, or to
heed only the horses and the details of the expedition. As for Simon,
he gave no thought to her. It was a curious fact that he had not yet
felt, even casually, that there was something strange and disturbing
in the adventure that brought him, a young man, and her, a young
woman, together. She remained the unknown; yet this mystery had no
particular attraction for him, nor did Antonio's enigmatic words recur
to his memory. Though he was perfectly well aware that she was very
beautiful, though it gave him pleasure to look at her from time to
time and though he often felt her eyes resting on him, she was never
the subject of his thoughts and did not for a moment enter into the
unbroken reflections aroused by his love for Isabel Bakefield and the
dangers which she was incurring.

These dangers he now judged to be less terrible than he had supposed.
Since Rolleston's plan consisted in sending Lord Bakefield to a Paris
banker to obtain money, it might be assumed that Isabel, held as a
hostage, would be treated with a certain consideration, at least until
Rolleston, after receiving a ransom, made further demands. But, when
this happened, would not he, Simon, be there?

They were now entering a region of a wholly different character, where
there was no longer either sand or mud, but a floor of grey rock
streaked with thin sheets of hard, sharp-edged stone, which refused to
take the imprint of a trail and which even the iron of the horses'
shoes failed to mark. Their only chance of information was from the
prowlers whom they might encounter.

These were becoming more and more numerous. Two full days had elapsed
since the emergence of the new land. It was now the third day; and
from al