Sir Richard stole a swift look above his shoulder. Tyrrell, moving at a snail's pace, was vainly endeavoring to free himself from the living mass that was eddying about him. Like a pair of long flails, he was waving his arms above his head, and calling down the wrath of Heaven upon his late antagonist for not halting. In the present case his talents as an actor were standing him in good stead. Behind him men were streaming wildly from the stand. Just as the young knight plunged within the forest shadows he heard a bugle wind the _tucket-sonuance_. Throwing aside the now useless lance, Sir Richard stretched low along his stallion's neck and sent him pounding over the frozen road at top speed. CHAPTER XVIII OF SIR RICHARD'S MEETING WITH THE FOOT-BOYS, AND HIS RETURN TO THE RED TAVERN To gain to the abandoned shepherd's hut and rejoin de Claverlok was now Sir Richard's chief concern. As to what his subsequent course of action should be he could in no manner determine. He meant, after finding de Claverlok, to journey onward toward the Red Tavern, either to effect the imprisoned maiden's release when he reached there, or to win her away from her abductors should he chance to intercept them on his way. In carrying forward this enterprise he intended, if it were possible, to secure the grizzled knight's aid. After that (Sir Richard planned it all out), a journey to the coast for the three of them, whence they would take ship for France and push forward to Brittany and Duke Francis's court. There they might tarry for awhile till he had secured his patrimony--the which was a something very vague and shadowy to the young knight--and then, last of all, the great, wide world. Desiring to minimize the dangers of pursuit and recapture, he took the first road leading from the main highway, which chanced to be one winding to the eastward. After about an hour of hard riding, he made out on the roadway, some distance ahead, the gray figure of a monk mounted upon a long-eared ass. There seemed to be something quite familiar to the young knight in the monk's attitude--bent far forward, with the sharp peak of his cowl alone appearing above his narrow shoulders. The churchman turned to give Sir Richard greeting as he was upon the point of galloping by. It was Erasmus. He arched his brows as though surprised at thus meeting with the young knight. "Why," said the scholar, as Sir Richard slowed down and took his easy pace, "I fancied that long ere this thou hadst joined my good friend, Bishop Kennedy. We made a vigorous but vain search for thee after that ambuscade among the Kilsyth Hills. But Lord Kennedy doubted not but that the good knight, Sir Lionel de Claverlok, would soon fetch up with thee and bring thee back. Ah! my friend, this fighting! These direful conspiracies! 'Tis indeed a sad thing for both church and populace when jealous factions do thus selfishly bestir themselves." For quite a space thereafter they rode along together in silence.