But no shadow of coming events was there to disturb his equanimity; all seemed to promise the gratification of his fondest wishes, and he was in the highest spirits.

And now he bade them bring Ordgar forward, and the guide—­his feet free, but his arms bound—­stood before him.

“Thou hast said that thou knowest the road through the Swamp?”

“I do.”

“Lead on, then, and beware of treachery; for if there be any doubt, even a doubt, of thy faith, thou diest.”

“Fear not; my faith is pledged—­it shall be kept.”

Pledged, yes:  but to whom?

The Normans failed to see the “double entendre” of this reply. 
Their claim was but the omnipotence of torture.

The thrall led the way to a spot where the earth bore marks of footsteps; here it was evident men had recently entered the maze which stretched before them.

Hugo pressed forward and took the cord himself.

“Now,” he said, “Normans, follow me.  Lead on, thrall; remember thy farm at Aescendune, and thy forfeit life.”

Onward, infatuated as the Egyptians when they passed between the suspended walls of the Red Sea, the band followed their leader into the maze; the path was narrow, the reeds were tall, and soon they towered above the heads of the rash invaders.

High bulrushes, tall flags; thick, sedgy vegetation beneath; the ground, firm enough below at first, soon became quaking and felt strangely elastic under their feet.  The marsh was here of great width, and shortly they had advanced a considerable distance from firm ground, and were in the midst of the Swamp.

And here the path became more and more difficult.  Sometimes only one could pass at once; nor could they see distinctly where they were going.  The sun, too, which might have guided them as to the direction of their march, was temporarily clouded.

“Dog,” said Hugo to the captive guide, “if thou misleadest us thou shalt die.”

“A man can die but once.”

“Thou art a bold villain,” said the baron, raising his sword.

“Slay me, and who will guide thee through the marsh?”

“True; do thy duty and fear nought.”

“I will do my duty.”

All this passed while they were slowly advancing, and the strange part of it was this, that they did not seem to get to the end of their toil.  Little did they suspect that they were wandering in a path which knew no end, save the bottom of the quagmire.

And now the marks of the feet, which had hitherto appeared plain before Hugo as he rode, were seen no more; nor could the baron tell the precise spot when they faded from sight; they had become fainter and fainter, and then had vanished.

“Dog, where are the footmarks? thou art wandering from the road.”

“We shall soon find them again.”

“Are we nearly over the Swamp?”

“Thou wilt see firm land soon.”