Denis was already making for an opening at the far end of the long low building, through which the afternoon sunshine streamed. Passing out, they found themselves in an inner yard, and beyond that there was a long open meadow, surrounded by a high hedge. But for the moment all was blank, and a feeling of despair made the young men's hearts sink as they mentally saw at a glance that their beautiful chargers had not excited attention for nothing--that they had been followed, horse-thieves had been at work, and that their noble steeds were gone. "How shall we dare to face the King?" thought Denis, and the next instant he grasped the fact that there must be a lane beyond the distant hedge, for he just caught sight of the head of a man whose covering seemed familiar gliding along above the fencing, now seen, now disappearing, as if he were mounted on a walking-horse. "Look! Not too late, Sim," he whispered. "They're over yonder. We must make for that lane. I'll go this way to cut that fellow off; you go to the left there, to meet him if I turn him back." "Think the horses are there?" whispered Saint Simon hoarsely. "Think!" cried Denis, in a low, harsh voice that he did not know as his own. "No: I am sure." No further words passed, for, separating at once, Denis dashed off to the right to make for the far corner of the field, in the faint hope of reaching it and getting through into the lane in time, while Saint Simon ran swiftly to the left to get into the horse-track there and follow the marauders up. CHAPTER ELEVEN. FIRST BLOOD. Denis was in no trim for running, but he ran. "This would wake anyone up," he muttered to himself. "The villain! The dog! I see it all: he must have given those two fellows drink till they were helpless, and then led the horses quietly away. Oh, if I had only been ten minutes sooner, instead of sleeping like the untrusty cur I was! I never dare face the King now! I'm running now as hard as ever I can run, not to bring back the horses, but to go right away. I never dare show my face before him again. Here," he thought, "am I to go on whining like some foolish girl? I can--I will get there first, in time to stop him. I never used my sword in earnest yet, but if I can only get face to face with that insolent hound I'll make him bleed, or he shall me. Too late! Too late!" he groaned, for the man's head had disappeared beyond the hedge. "There must be some turning yonder, and he has gone; and once out there in the open country he, a man who rides with such horses as ours, it will be folly ever to expect to see him again." The boy ran on, not growing breathless, but nerved as it were to the highest pitch of excitement, seeing nothing now, but reaching the hedge at last close by a rough gate, over which he vaulted lightly, to find himself in a winding green lane, but with nothing in sight to his left, nothing to his right, and no turning visible, and stretching right away.