When I had got out of sight of any possible observation from Sir Hugh, even if he had recovered sufficiently to observe me, I turned my horse into the wood by the side of a little brook that crossed the road. I urged him through the trees until he was completely out of sight of any passerby. Then I swung myself from the saddle, tore open the package that Sir Hugh had handed me, hastily glanced over the papers, and discovered that the precious warrant was not among them! Sick at heart, I hammered at the lock of the despatch-bag, which I thanked God I had had the wit to bring with me, until I got it open. It contained various official documents, and among them was one I recognised, to my great relief and happiness. Ruthlessly, I broke the royal seal. The name of my father swam before my eyes. It was the warrant for his execution. With hands that trembled now as they had not trembled before during the adventure, I dragged from my pocket the flint and steel. Heaping together some leaves, touchwood, and dried brush, I soon kindled a blaze. I held the warrant therein with my hand and watched it burn. The wax melted at last and left a red spot in the middle of the ashes. I had succeeded, and by my own wit and address. My father's life was saved. I had kept myself up till then by sheer strength of will. The wound in my shoulder had bled unheeded. I was greatly weakened. A sudden reaction came. I felt frightfully faint and ill. I rose to my feet and managed in some way to divest myself of my coat and waistcoat, fumbling with my one hand amid the unfamiliar buttons. Then I tore open the breast of my shirt, dragged it off my shoulder, and discovered a long, jagged wound across the top. The sight of the red blood upon my white flesh made me nervous and sick. I fell to my knees and started to crawl toward the brook. I did not know whether I should reach it or not. The world was growing darker and blacker about me every minute. I set my teeth together and crawled mechanically on. I had almost arrived at the brink when a voice I knew broke upon my ear, recalling me at once to full consciousness. "Well, Master Carthew,"--the words came to me as if from a great distance,--"I have you now." I looked up. There stood Sir Hugh, hatless, his head still bound, his cheek still bloody. He had a drawn sword in his hand. Amazing as it may seem, I was almost glad to see him: I felt so sick, and weak, and helpless. Yet I did not give up. With a flash of my old spirit, I strove desperately to rise to my feet. I got as far as my knees and, forgetful of my naked shoulder, I stared up at him boldly. "Too late," I said. "Good God!" I heard him exclaim. "'Tis a woman." And then I knew nothing more. _Chapter_ V _In which I ride away with my Captor, who threatens me with Death for High Treason_