long continue his journey but must inevitably sink from weakness and exhaustion. [Illustration: “THE STRANGER CAUGHT HIS HORSE BY THE REIN”] The road began to descend once more into the valley, and under the grey light of the early dawn he could see the fields and hedgerows sloping down to where the little river ran through clumps of hazel and osier. As he drew towards the river the sound of running water was pleasant to hear in the unbroken silence--a sign of movement and life. After a while the road grew narrow and ran through an arch of tall poplars, through which he could see the dull red light of the rising dawn at the further end. On one side of the road was a sluggish pool of water and on the other a high hedge of thorns. He had ridden half way through this dark colonnade when he saw the figure of a man standing in the shadow, apparently awaiting his approach. He could not see his face but he could see that he had a weapon in his hand. He instinctively drew from his holster the pistol with which De Laprade had provided him, and was about to drive his spurs into the charger´s flanks, when the stranger sprang forward, caught his horse by the rein, and placed the point of a sword at his throat. Gervase presented his pistol at the head of his assailant and fired point-blank, but the hammer snapped ineffectually on the flint. Then he drave the spurs deep into the horse´s sides, but he stopped short and refused to move. “This has come as an answer to prayer,” said a deep voice. “Dismount, sir, and that speedily; I have business to do that will not brook delay and your necessity, however pressing, must yield to mine.” In a moment Gervase recognized the full sonorous voice as that of Macpherson. The horse, too, had recognized his master, for he gave a joyous whinney. “Use no force, Captain Macpherson,” said Gervase; “right glad am I to see you, for I had begun to fear that we should meet no more.” “It is Mr. Orme,” said the old soldier, lowering the point of his weapon and placing his hand on the horse´s neck. “I knew not what withheld my hand that I did not strike, but now I know. Little did I think as I heard the sound of the horse´s feet far down the road that I was listening to the tramp of my brave Bayard, or that it was for you that I held my sword and prepared to strike hard and deep. It was God´s mercy that my pistol was left behind or I should have brought you down like a laverock on the wing. And how have the others fared?” Gervase told him briefly what had happened, explaining how he owed his life to the kindness of De Laprade, and how Hackett had been left behind, with the prospect of a violent death before him. Macpherson interrupted him with many interjaculations, and when he had finished exclaimed dejectedly: