We made a pillion of my cloak, and lifted Hilda up behind me; and so we set out in the moonlight to find our way to Fernlea, striking away from the river somewhat at first, and then taking a track which led in the right direction.  And so for an hour we rode and saw no man.  The land slept round us, and the night was still and warm, and I forgot the troubles that were upon us in the pleasure of having Hilda here and safe with me.

Presently we came out of forest growth into the open, and passed a little hut, out of whose yard a dog came and barked fiercely as we passed.  There was no sound of any man stirring in the hovel, however, and we went on steadily.  As the crow flies, Fernlea town was not more than five miles from the palace; but we wandered somewhat, no doubt, being nowise anxious to meet any men on the way, and also wishing to come into the town from any direction but that of the road from Sutton.

A quarter of a mile from the hut where the dog was we entered a deep old track, worn with long years of timber hauling and pack-horse travel, and under the overhanging trees it was dark again.

Now we had not gone fifty yards down this lane when my horse grew uneasy, snorting, and bidding me beware of somewhat, as a horse will.  Hilda knew what the steed meant, and took a tighter hold on my belt, lest he should swerve or rear.

“’Tis a stray wolf or somewhat,” said Erling from behind us.  “The horses have winded him.”

Then out of the shadows under the trees came a great voice which cried in bad Saxon, “Ay, a wolf indeed!  Stand and answer for yourselves!”

“Spurs!” I cried to Erling, and the great skew-bald shot forward.

Out of the darkness, from the overhanging banks, and seemingly from the middle of the hollow road, rose with a roar a crowd of white-clad dim figures and flung themselves at the bridles, and had my sword arm helpless before ever I had time to know that they were there.  And all in a moment I knew that these were no men of Gymbert’s, but Welshmen from the hills spying on the doings of Offa at Sutton.  Some one had told me that they were in doubt as to what his great gathering meant.

Now, if Hilda had not been with us, there would have been some sort of a fight here in the dark, for I should certainly have drawn sword first and spurred afterward.  As it was, my only thought must needs be to save Hilda from any harm.

“Hold hard!” I cried in Welsh; “this is a lady travelling.”

“Yes, indeed,” one of the men who had hold of my bridle answered; “he says truly.”

“A lady?” said the voice which had spoken first.  “Let her bid her men be still, and we will speak with her!”

Then Hilda answered very bravely, “So it shall be.  Bid your men free us, and we shall harm none.”

The leader spoke in Welsh, and his men fell back from us.  Then he came to my side and asked what we did here so late.  And as he spoke it came to me that the best thing to do would be to tell him the very truth.  No more than himself were we friends of Offa and Quendritha.