I soon felt a jar run through me. We had wandered straight along the side of the hill in a line with the valley. Of a sudden we came to a point of rock that stood jutting higher than the ground roundabouts. There were no trees upon it, only the bare stone. When we reached the summit the whole country spread on either hand like a rolling field. A white line curled and circled in and around the wanderings of a little stream that flowed slowly towards the south. It was the great highway that leads down the valley of the Loire to the west of France. It was the road that I would have been traveling in peace and comfort, if it had not been for the interference of my enemies. Of a sudden the sound of clattering hoofs came to my ears. Then there shot into view two horsemen with bows and arrows slung over their shoulders. From where I was I could even see the grim expression on their faces and the foam dripping from their horses’s mouths. I glanced anxiously at the scrivener. “There they go,” he remarked. “—after us?” I inquired. He nodded his head. “Don’t you feel the thrill of it?” he asked beaming in my face. “And doesn’t it warm your blood to see them go flying past when we are standing here at our ease?” I had to laugh in spite of myself, but for all that the seriousness of our situation tormented me. To live like a hunted animal was little to my liking. The long and short of it was that the scrivener was used to danger. I had my trials yet to come. We had to keep on the move so we started back to wander under the protection of the trees. We crossed the forest path at a right angle and directed our steps towards the north. Here the woods grew thicker. The ground was more and more covered with brush and knotted weeds and there ran tiny streams down the hillside in and out among the rocks. I came to a sudden stop and touched the scrivener on the arm. “I hear a noise of some one walking,” I said. “A stone just clattered against a rock.” The scrivener raised his finger to silence me. “I saw them when we were watching the horsemen ride past,” he said. “It’s two fellows armed with bows and arrows. They are behind us.” I asked no further questions. I knew that they were on our tracks. It was a sign that our enemies were combing the country round in their search and would leave no stone unturned till they found us. The scrivener halted and pointed to a large tree. “Hide there,” he explained. “That’s where they will pass. When they come abreast of you, keep your eye open. Wait for an opportunity.” With not another word he was off through the woods. I stood for a moment in doubt. Then I walked quickly to the place he had pointed out and took my position in the shelter of the tree. My heart was thumping like a hammer. I laid my hand involuntarily on my dagger. I gave a pull at my jerkin. I was now on one foot, now on the other. A nervousness came over me that made me as uneasy as a young colt.