By this they had reached the head of the ravine-like valley in which stands Flaxley Abbey, and were hastening forward fast as the _impedimenta_ of captives would permit. The road runs down the valley, which, after several sinuosities, debouches on the Severn's plain. But, long before attaining this, at rounding one of the turns, their eyes were greeted by a sight which sent tremor to their hearts. "_Mein Gott_!" cried the Prince, suddenly reining up, and speaking in a tone of mingled surprise and alarm, "you see, Sir Thomas?" Sir Thomas did see--sharing the other's alarm, but without showing it--a sheet of water that shone silvery white under the moonlight overspreading all the plain below. The river aflood, and inundation everywhere! "We'll not be able to cross at all?" pursued the Prince, in desponding interrogative. "Shall we?" "Oh yes! your Highness, I think so," was the doubting response. "The water can't be so high as to hinder us; at least not likely. There's a pier-head at Westbury Passage on both sides, and the boats will be there as ever. I don't anticipate any great difficulty in the crossing, only we'll have to wade a bit." "_Gott_! that will be difficulty enough--danger too." "What danger, your Highness? Through the meadows there's a raised causeway, and fortunately I'm familiar with every inch of it. While with Sir John Wintour I had often occasion to travel it; more than once under water. Even if we can't make the Westbury Passage, we can that of Framilode, but a mile or two above. I've never heard of it being so flooded as to prevent passing over." "It may be as you say, Sir Thomas. But the danger I'm thinking of has more to do with time than floods. Wading's slow work; and there's still the possibility of Walwyn and his green-coats coming on after us. Suppose they should, and find us floundering through the water?" "No need supposing that, Prince. There isn't the slightest likelihood of it. I'd stake high that at this minute they're at the bottom of Cat's Hill, or, it may be, by Goodrich Ferry, seeking to cross over the Wye as we the Severn. And, like as not, Lingen will give them a turn if he gets word of their being about there. Sir Harry has now a strong force in the castle; and owes Dick Walwyn a _revanche_--for that affair on the Hereford Road the morning after Kyrle led them into Monmouth." "For all, I wish we had gone Monmouth way," rejoined Rupert, as his eyes rested doubtingly on the white sheet of water wide spread over the plain below. "I still fear their pursuing us." "Even if they should, your Highness, we need have no apprehension. The pursuit can't be immediate; and, please God, in another hour or so, we'll be over the Severn, as likely they on the other side of the Wye, with both rivers between them and us."