Nothing was to be seen, however; for the dog had outrun the pursuers; and, for a mile farther, they did not come in sight. Then, however, they were seen coming over a hill not very far off; and, from that spot, the journey became in fact a race. Those who followed had evidently hired fresh horses likewise; or rather, armed with the authority at the duke of Britanny, they had taken them wherever they found them; and they gained perceptibly upon the fugitives. Now they were lost sight of in a hollow, as the road rose up and down; now they came in sight again, and each time nearer than before. At length, however, a glimpse of the winding Mayenne was obtained, and then towers and steeples were seen over the trees. "Angers, Angers!" cried the boy, with renewed hope. On they dashed; and, when they reached the gates of the city, the horsemen of the duke of Britanny were not three hundred yards behind them. There, however, both parties reined in their horses; and Richmond presented his letters of safe conduct to the guard at the gates. The pursuers did not venture to follow any farther, for they were already within the pale of France; and, wearied in frame, but relieved in mind, the earl rode on into the town. As, now in security, Richmond cast off his clothes at the inn, and prepared to take some repose, his mind rested upon the events of the eight and forty hours just past; and his last thought, ere his eyes closed in sleep, was--"It is strange that I should owe my escape from imprisonment--ay, and from death, to a woodman in a distant part of England." He might have said, "and that England should owe him a king;" but all the coming time was dim to the eyes of the earl; and he only added--"I vow to the blessed Virgin Mary, if ever I should sit upon the throne of England, as some men think likely, I will find out that man and reward him." CHAPTER XXIX. There was a hand laid upon the latch of the door; for doors, even in great houses, had latches to them, dear reader, in that age of simple contrivances; and Constance asked, "Who is there?" "Open, Constance, open," said the voice of Iola; and her cousin gave her instant admission, holding out her arms to her, and pressing her to her heart, as if she had thought that the companion of her youth was lost to her for ever. "Have you been disturbed, Constance?" asked her cousin, kissing her cheek. "Only by your girl, Susan, about a quarter of an hour ago," replied Constance. "I bade her come again in half an hour, and tell my maiden not to sit up for me." "I have been long, dear cousin," said Iola, "and kept you waiting; but I could not help it; for there was much to say." "And you have been far," said Constance, gazing at her with inquiring looks; "for your gown is wet with dew--and torn moreover!"