"Bah!" cried the King. "What a dumb dog you are! And I know nothing of the way. I begin to feel that we ought to have had old Leoni with us, after all. He has maps, and knowledge always ready in his brain; and he speaks these islanders' language better than they can themselves. But he would only have been in the way, and I wanted freedom. Here, Denis, boy, what have you to say? Where shall we sleep to-night?" "I had scarcely time, sir, to mark down our course, and the only place I can recall is one called Hurstham." "Ah!" cried the King. "What of that?" "I know nothing, sir, except that there is a good road over hills and through forests, and that there is a castle there." "Then that will do," cried the King. "Once within its walls we can laugh at thieves and murderers. There, boy, you have your task before you: lead us there." "But I do not know the way, sir. Would it not be best to get a guide from the first village we ride through?" "Excellent!" cried the King--"for him to lead us straight into the den of the forest outlaws." "It would be his last journey, sir," said Saint Simon grimly, as he significantly touched the hilt of his sword. "And what good would that do us," said the King, "if we never saw to-morrow's sun? Here, I must lead. Look out sharp, both of you, for the next guide-post or stone. I will warrant that those old Romans planted some of them beside the road, telling the way to London." "Yes, sir," said Denis drily, "but it will soon be dark." "Ah, well, we must chance everything. I don't believe that we shall find the road unsafe; but even if it is we must keep to it all the same. It will lead us somewhere, and--hah! here comes the moon!" It was a welcome light for the travellers, who rode slowly on to ease their steeds, for as the King said, they had all the night before them, and sooner or later, even if they did not reach the castle, they were sure to pass upon this direct road to London some good town where they might venture to stay. But the miles seemed to grow longer, the country more hilly, wild and strange, and, in spite of all endeavours to keep bravely to their task, the two young men had the weight of the past night's watch upon their brains. The consequence was that just after crossing what seemed to be an open furzy down, and when the road, looking white in the moonlight, had turned gloomy and black, save where it was splashed by the silvery light on the trees of the forest patch into which they had passed, they began to nod upon their horses, and the King's voice grew as he talked into an incoherent drone. Then they were wide awake again, for just in the darkest part, where the trees met together across the road, a shrill clear whistle rang out, which made all draw rein and listen to the sound of horses' hoofs clattering upon the hard road they had just traversed. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE WAR-CRY.