Anne, however, was the bravest companion. She trudged along patiently by the side of Gervase and nothing would make her admit that she was hungry or weary or afraid. But had it not been for the solace of each other’s company they must have given in long before they did. Each was sustained by the other’s valor. Yet with night at hand, supperless and without a roof for their heads, heaven knew what would befall them now. At last, when the cold twilight had come down on the woods and fields, they felt no longer able to go on. They rested awhile by the side of the road. Gervase nestled Anne’s cheek against his coat, and it seemed like ice. “Poor soul,” he whispered, and could hardly restrain his tears. It was quite dark by the time they had gathered the strength to continue their journey. At first their limbs were so stiff that they could hardly walk. But the bitter wind, the heavy darkness and the threat of rain spurred them cruelly. Their strides grew shorter and shorter, they fell sick at heart, yet they did not complain of one another or of Providence. On and on they trudged until they were like to drop. Exactly what they hoped to find in that inhospitable night was more than they could have told. Perhaps some hovel or shepherd’s hut or a byre with cows in it was the bourne of their desire. But the weary miles passed by and none of these things came to them. After a time they turned from the hard and bleak high road, which gave no protection from the merciless wind, again into the fields. They felt now that they could not walk another mile. Utterly weary and dispirited, they still clung to the slender hope of finding shelter in a wood wherein to pass the remainder of the night. But the country now was flat and cheerless. It contained little else than low-lying marsh-land fringed with stunted willow-trees. Disappointed of even this small crumb of solace, they crept at last under a hedge which in the total darkness was the best protection they could find. And grateful were they for it. At least they were saved from the wind and rain. But fatigue galled them in every bone and they were most bitterly hungry. They were too miserable to think of sleep. For the sake of warmth they lay very close together, but little enough there was of it that crept into their veins. But never for a moment did their courage fail. They were sustained with a sense of miraculous deliverance from infinite perils. In body they were fainting, but in ardor of spirit they were unconquered still. God who had given them so much would continue to hold them in His care.