before you came to life. I had searched the path, but I saw no
robbers. They did not take your horse,--I found it in the glade yonder,
where I have left mine with it. That must be the glade you crossed
before they appeared."

"But how came you to be here? Ah, did you disregard my wish and follow
me?"

"Not at first. No; I went on toward Paris as you bade me. But after
awhile I too had a feeling of danger befalling you in this forest. It
was so strong that I could not force myself to go on. So I rode back,
hoping to come in sight of you and follow at a distance. I could not do
otherwise."

"Ah, Henri, perhaps it is to you I owe the ill service of bringing me
back to life. Who knows?--I might have passed quietly away to death here
had you not come and revived the feeble spark left in me. I must have
been unconscious a long time."

"Yes; thank God I arrived no later than I did. But why should the
robbers have brought you here? They have not even taken any of your
clothes. See, here is your sword, replaced in its scabbard; even your
cap is here, beside your head--look where the villain's weapon cut
through,--it must have been a sort of halberd. Why should they have
brought you here? Do they mean to return, I wonder?"

I rose and looked around, peering through the dusky spaces between the
trunks of the trees, and straining my ears. Suddenly, amidst the chatter
of the birds returning to their places for the night, I made out a sound
of distant hoof-beats.

"Horsemen!" I said. "But these robbers were on foot, were they not?"

"Yes; I did not see any horses about."

"Who can these be? There must be several!"

They were apparently coming from that part of the forest toward which
the Countess had been riding. On account of the brushwood I could not
see them yet.

"Well," said I, "we had best keep as quiet as possible till they pass.
But they will see our horses in crossing the glade. No, that must not
be. Wait."

I ran back to the glade, and finding the horses close together, caught
them both, led them down the bed of the stream to where the Countess
was, and made them lie among the underwood, trusting to good fortune
that they would be quiet while the others were passing.

Soon I could see, above the underbrush that extended to the path beyond
the brook, a procession of steel head-pieces, bearded faces,
breastplates over leather jerkins, and horses' heads. There were six or
seven men in all, one after another. I