I lifted my head and did so.  There were footsteps in the stillness, and a gruff word or two, and the steps came this way, and nearer, fast.

“Hilda,” I said, “are you likely to be pursued?”

For I could think of nothing but that she had managed to fly from Quendritha, and that perhaps Selred had bidden her seek me here.

“I cannot tell,” she said, and her voice was full of terror.  “Take me hence quickly—­anywhere.  That terrible queen told me that you had fled, and so thrust me out to seek you—­”

I did not wait to hear more, for the steps came on.  Between us Erling and I half carried the poor maiden back toward the place where we had entered the wood, and we went swiftly enough.  Yet we could not help the noises that footsteps must needs make in the dark of a cover, where one cannot see to pick the way.

Nor, of course, could those who came, as they tried to follow us.  We heard them plainly entering the wood as we came to the edge of it and passed out toward the river bank.

“We must get back to the horses, and then ride to Fernlea and the archbishop,” I said, under my breath.

“Ay, if we can,” Erling answered; “but that is more easily said than done.”

He pointed to the river and up it.  The moonlight was flooding all its valley, and the last of the day still lingered in the sky.  If these men came to the place where we stood, they could see us before we had time to get to any cover.

As we came hither we had gone easily, under the shelter of the gray rain, because no man was at this place to spy us.  It was different now.  The men were in the wood at this time as we stood and doubted.  Next we heard them running to right and left, that they might be sure to meet whoever it was they sought; and plainly that could be none but Hilda, unless we had been seen.  Yet we could hardly have been suspected to be any but late comers homeward.

“There is but one thing,” I said suddenly.  “We must cross the river.  They will be here in a moment and looking into the open.”

Hilda shrunk close to me in terror, and Erling looked at the stream.  It was coming down in full volume after the rain, for up in its hills there had been much more than here.  Across the stream were bushes enough to hide us.

“You have your mail on, and there is the lady.  But it is not far; maybe we two could manage.  We can’t fight these men, or we shall have the whole place out on us like a beehive.”

So said Erling, looking doubtfully at the water.  I asked Hilda if she feared, and she shivered a little, but answered that aught was better than to bide and be taken by Quendritha.

“I can trust you,” she said quietly.  “Do what you will.”

“Faith,” said Erling, “one must do somewhat to stay these men, or else little chance shall we have of aught but a good fight here against odds.  I count six of them by the voices.  Wait a moment and we will try somewhat.  Get you to the water, thane, ready.”