*

It was now a breathless afternoon. High overhead the sun blazed in a
cloudless sky, but down here all was cool, green shadow. There was not a
sound to be heard from the woods, beyond the mellow hum of the flies;
Anthony's faint rustlings had ceased; now and then a saddle creaked, or a
horse blew out his nostrils or tossed his head. One of the men wound his
handkerchief silently round a piece of his horse's head-harness that
jingled a little. The maid drew a soft sobbing breath now and then, but
she dared not speak after the priest's rebuke.

Then suddenly there came another sound to Isabel's ears; she could not
distinguish at first what it was, but it grew nearer, and presently
resolved itself into the fumbling noise of several horses' feet walking
together, twice or three times a stirrup chinked, once she heard a
muffled cough; but no word was spoken. Nearer and nearer it came, until
she could not believe that it was not within five yards of her. Her heart
began again that sick thumping; a fly that she had brushed away again and
again now crawled unheeded over her face, and even on her white parted
lips; but a sob of fear from the maid recalled her, and she turned a
sharp look of warning on her. Then the fumbling noise began to die away:
the men were passing. There was something in their silence that was more
terrible than all else; it reminded her of hounds running on a hot scent.

Then at last there was silence; then gentle rustlings again over last
year's leaves; and Anthony came back through the hazels. He nodded at her
sharply.

"Now, quickly," he said, and took his horse by the bridle and began to
lead him out again the way they had come. At the entrance he looked out
first; the road was empty and silent. Then he led his horse clear, and
mounted as the others came out one by one in single file.

"Now follow close; and watch my hand," he said; and he put his horse to a
quick walk on the soft wayside turf. As the distance widened between them
and the men who were now riding away from them, the walk became a trot,
and then quickly a canter, as the danger of the sound being carried to
their pursuers decreased.

It seemed to Isabel like some breathless dream as she followed Anthony's
back, watching the motions of his hand as he signed in which direction he
was going to turn next. What was happening, she half wondered to herself,
that she should be riding like this on a spent horse, as if in some
dreadfu