s.

"From now on, Highness," he said with an apologetic gesture, "the road
is too narrow for horses."

She turned to Carter, awaiting his decision. It was an odd picture they
made. He could not but note it. The peasant held his lantern on a level
with his shaggy head which alternated in deep shadows and high lights.
About them, within the zone of its rays, the huge trunks of trees stood
out on every side, their tops lost in the surrounding darkness. Before
him, but partially revealed by the illumination, sat the girl upon her
horse, her head turned to him with an expression emphasized by the
encircling gloom.

"Well?" she asked, recalling him from his observations.

"We'll have to abandon them," he answered, dismounting and reluctantly
helping her to the ground. When Trusia offered the horses to Hans, he
refused, saying that their possession might lead to the pursuit of the
fugitives.

Trusia fondly drew the satiny muzzle of her own steed down to her cheek.

"I hate to do it, Saladin," she murmured chokingly, "but I have to; you
understand, dear horse." She kissed the soft nose that was resting
affectionately on her shoulder. "You will have to drive him away,
Calvert," she said turning to the man at her side, "I cannot." The steed
seemed to comprehend, for with a whinny that was almost a sigh, he
coaxingly nozzled her hand and rubbed his shapely head against her arm.

"Good-bye, Saladin," she cried wistfully, as in obedience to a sharp
smack on their flanks, the horses trotted off into the thicket and were
swallowed up in the gloom.

Hour after hour Carter and Trusia, led by Hans, trudged ahead, silently
advancing upon the wall of darkness ever facing them. Their reflections
were absorbing them and each respected the sanctity of the other's
thoughts. After the second five miles had been accomplished, they
suddenly came upon a clear space under the unveiled splendor of the
stars. At their feet, reflecting the glory of the heavens, bubbled a
forest spring. Hans dropped at Trusia's feet, and catching her hand,
mumbled some grief-hampered words.

"He must go back now," she explained to Carter. "He says our way is
plain from here on. We are to follow this path until daylight. By then
we should reach a similar clearing, where his brother, Carl, has his
ovens. There we can get shelter. When we have had sufficient rest, Carl
will guide us to the frontier. That last part of the road Hans does not
know. Once at the riv