ey, and started to return to
the inn, when, to his dismay, he found he had forgotten in which
direction it lay.

While seeking to find the path by which he had entered the glade, he
suddenly noticed a beaten track between two huge rocks, which seemed to
point in the direction he had come, and yet which he recognised as the
path he had been bidden to follow in his dream. He hesitated not, but
committed himself to it, while darkness seemed to increase each moment.

He was beginning to fear the dangers of a night in the woods, when he
was startled by a sound as of many low voices, and at the same moment
became conscious that a light was tinging with red the upper branches of
the trees at no little distance, as if proceeding from some fire, hidden
by the formation of the ground.

At first he thought that he was in the neighbourhood of outlaws, and
tried to retire, but, as in his dream, he felt so strong an impulse to
discover the party whom the woods concealed that he persevered.

Suddenly he stopped short, for he had come to the edge of a kind of
natural amphitheatre, a deep hollow in the earth, the sides of which
were covered with bushes and trees, while the area at the bottom might
perhaps have covered a hundred square yards, and was clothed with
verdant turf. Not one, but several fires were burning, and around them
were reclining small groups of armed men, while some were walking about
chatting with each other.

Alfred gazed in much surprise, for the party did not at all realise his
conception of a body of freebooters or robbers; they all seemed to wear
the same uniform, and to resemble each other in their accoutrements and
characteristics; they rather resembled, in short, a detachment of
regular forces than a body of men whom chance might have thrown
together, or the fortune of predatory war.

While he gazed upon them, two of their number, whose attire was rich and
costly, and who seemed to be of higher rank than the rest, perhaps their
officers, attracted his attention as they walked near the spot where,
clinging to a tree, he overlooked the encampment from above.

One of them was a tall, dark warrior, whose whole demeanour was that of
the professional soldier, whose dress was plain yet rich, and who might
easily be guessed to be the commander of the party. He was talking
earnestly, but in a subdued tone, to his younger companion, whom he
seemed to be labouring to convince of the propriety of some course of
ac