He echoed the last word softly, as one whose brain is too weary to take in its full meaning, but he did not again seek to detain her as she groped her way towards the glimmer of light which was already growing fainter as the moonlight faded. To her surprise, Gloire stood not at the cave’s mouth as she emerged, and for a moment she looked round her with a thrill of fear, wondering what new foes might not have arisen to fight against. But Gloire’s absence was not far to seek, seeing that the wolves from the forest had already scented their human feast, and had crept stealthily forth to rend it, and as Gwennola stood there in the dim light, she perceived two gaunt forms flit in swift pursuit of one another across the hill towards the shadow of the trees, and shuddered, well guessing what they meant. Daggers there were in plenty in the dead man’s leathern belt, and Gwennola hastened to draw a small keen weapon forth and hurry back, for it was ill work to bend so over a dead man’s body, and feel the close stare of sightless eyes. But Gwennola’s nerves were re-strung now to meet the desperate necessity of her case, for well she knew that the moments fled swiftly and already the sands of an innocent man’s life were running low, and not only of one innocent of crime, but her own true lover, without whom life must be as dark and gloomy as yon forest from whence came the yelping howls of beasts of prey, kept back by fear, for the nonce, from their evening feast. One by one the tight leathern thongs were severed, and Yvon with a cry of thankfulness rose slowly to his knees, though so cramped were his limbs that even after the space of some minutes he could but crawl to the entrance of his prison on hands and knees. But the cool night air revived him, like a draught of wine, as he sank down on the heath without. Gwennola could ill repress a cry of dismay as the feeble moonlight revealed a face which, but for the eyes, it were difficult to recognise as that of the handsome boy who, but three short years ago, had left the château in all the pride and glory of youth and noble manhood. The rosy cheeks were sunken, and so emaciated that the skin seemed but drawn over the high cheek-bones; the smooth chin was covered with a short, unkempt beard; and the fair golden curls were long, matted, and discoloured; but the eyes, blue as Gwennola’s own, were the same as they looked up into hers, and yet, with a sob in her throat, she realized they were not the same, for the glad, merry light with which youth faces life had gone, and instead there seemed to lurk within them an almost vacant look of terror, such as one sees in a frightened child. It was a face which told its own tragedy without need of words, and with a shudder of pity his sister bent, raising him tenderly as he struggled vainly to his feet, passing a strong, protecting young arm around him, and softly bidding him lean on her. He gazed round vaguely, shivering as his glance fell on the forest.