A racking agony of being borne joltingly along Hugh remembered dimly, but now there came a moment of fuller consciousness. He knew it was black all about where he lay, the ground beneath him felt wet, and his face was jammed into something so cold it made his cheek ache. With a helpless catching of the breath he tried to shift his position. “Hush, hush!” Strangwayes’ voice sounded right at his ear, and Strangwayes’ arm pressed him close. Smothering the cry of pain, Hugh listened breathlessly; somewhere far above him people must be moving, for he heard the snap of boughs and men’s voices calling, “Have you found a trace?” “Nay, they bore to the roadway, I’ll wager.” “Have ye searched the ditch?” On that, nearer and louder than before, came more trampling and crashing. Hugh could not hear Strangwayes breathe, but he felt Strangwayes’ arm draw more tensely about him, and, when he turned his head painfully, knew it was Strangwayes’ hand pressed down on his mouth. Now as he lay he could see a shred of dark sky with the outline of branches thick woven against it. Then the sight of the sky went blurring out from before his eyes, and the crackling of the bushes grew fainter till that and all other sound ceased for him. A sense that he had been long in a region of blankness, then once more he heard voices, but now they were beside him and he knew who spoke. “Durst you venture forth, sir?” “I dare not risk it, Corporal. Yet if we stay in this slough— You’re holding him as clear of the wet as you can?” “What else should I be doing, sir?” Ridydale’s voice came snappishly. “You are here, Dick?” Hugh tried to say, but it took an instant to force out even a weak whisper. A quick movement and Strangwayes bent over him; Hugh concluded vaguely that he was resting across the knees of his two friends with his head upon Dick’s arm. “How is it with you now, lad?” Strangwayes asked eagerly. “Well enough. Only my face aches,” Hugh admitted in a whisper that pained him. “I could have forgiven him, had he killed the lad clean and quick,” Strangwayes broke out; “but to hack him into pieces thus!” “Hell gnaw him for it!” Ridydale growled back. With neither wit nor strength to reason out of what or whom they spoke, Hugh lay quiet and unresisting in the arms of his companions. He wondered if their coats were wrapped about him, he felt so warm. Then, after a space where even wonder was blotted out, he felt his shirt thrust open again and the air cold on his breast. “Give me those other napkins,” Strangwayes’ voice sounded hard and colorless; “he is bleeding again.” Something like a groan burst from Ridydale. “May we not venture it now, sir?” he begged. “In God’s name, yes!” Strangwayes cried.