Chapter 31

CHAPTER VI - NIGHT IN THE WOODS (concluded): DICK AND JOAN

The horses had by this time finished the small store of provender,
and fully breathed from their fatigues. At Dick's command, the
fire was smothered in snow; and while his men got once more wearily
to saddle, he himself, remembering, somewhat late, true woodland
caution, chose a tall oak and nimbly clambered to the topmost fork.
Hence he could look far abroad on the moonlit and snow-paven
forest. On the south-west, dark against the horizon, stood those
upland, heathy quarters where he and Joanna had met with the
terrifying misadventure of the leper. And there his eye was caught
by a spot of ruddy brightness no bigger than a needle's eye.

He blamed himself sharply for his previous neglect. Were that, as
it appeared to be, the shining of Sir Daniel's camp-fire, he should
long ago have seen and marched for it; above all, he should, for no
consideration, have announced his neighbourhood by lighting a fire
of his own. But now he must no longer squander valuable hours.
The direct way to the uplands was about two miles in length; but it
was crossed by a very deep, precipitous dingle, impassable to
mounted men; and for the sake of speed, it seemed to Dick advisable
to desert the horses and attempt the adventure on foot.

Ten men were left to guard the horses; signals were agreed upon by
which they could communicate in case of need; and Dick set forth at
the head of the remainder, Alicia Risingham walking stoutly by his
side.

The men had freed themselves of heavy armour, and left behind their
lances; and they now marched with a very good spirit in the frozen
snow, and under the exhilarating lustre of the moon. The descent
into the dingle, where a stream strained sobbing through the snow
and ice, was effected with silence and order; and on the further
side, being then within a short half mile of where Dick had seen
the glimmer of the fire, the party halted to breathe before the
attack.

In the vast silence of the wood, the lightest sounds were audible
from far; and Alicia, who was keen of hearing, held up her finger
warningly and stooped to listen. All followed her example; but
besides the groans of the choked brook in the dingle close behind,
and the barking of a fox at a distance of many miles among the
forest, to Dick's acutest hearkening, not a breath was audible.

"But yet, for sure, I heard the clash of harness," whispered
Alicia.

"Madam," returned Dick, who was more afraid of that young lady than
of ten stout warriors, "I would not hint ye were mistaken; but it
might well have come from either of the camps."

"It came not thence. It came from westward," she declared.

"It may be what it