In truth, the youthful prince was nigh worn out from fatigue, notwithstanding the fact that Paul had contrived to give him almost the whole of their scanty provision, and had helped him tenderly over the roughest of the way.  It was true, indeed, that had they been attacked Edward would have fallen an easy prey; but alone in this disguise, hobbling along with the heavy gait of an aged rustic, he would attract no suspicion from any robber band.  And Paul was eager to see him thus equipped; for they had reached the part of the wood which was familiar to both, and the prince could easily find the shortest and most direct way to the Priory, whilst he himself would make a short circuit and arrive from another point with as little delay as possible.

A strong will and a sound argument generally win the day.  Edward submitted at last to be arrayed in the woodman’s homely garments, and was grateful for the warmth they afforded; for he was feeling the bitter cold of the northern latitude, and was desperately tired from his long day and night of walking.  There was no pretence about the limping, shuffling gait adopted; for his feet were blistered and his limbs stiff and aching.

Paul watched him hobbling away, his face looking swarthy and old beneath the shade of the hat, his shoulders bent, and his blackened hands grasping a tough ash stick to help himself along; and a smile of triumph stole over his own countenance as he heaved a long sigh of relief—­for he felt quite certain that in the gathering dusk no one would suspect the true character of the weary pedestrian, and that he would reach the shelter of the Priory in safety.

It seemed as if a millstone were rolled from Paul’s neck as he turned from contemplating that retiring figure.  The strain upon his faculties during the past twenty-four hours had been intense, and when it was removed he felt an immense sensation of relief.  But with that relief came a greater access of fatigue than he had been conscious of before.  He had been spurred along the road by the sense of responsibility—­by the feeling that the safety and perhaps the life of the young Prince of Wales depended in a great measure upon his sagacity, endurance, and foresight.  To get the prince to Leigh’s Priory, beneath the care of the good monks who were stanch to the cause of the saintly Henry, was the one aim and object of his thoughts.  He had known all along that the last miles of the journey would be those most fraught with peril, and to lessen this peril had been the main purpose on his mind.  Having seen the prince start off on the direct path, so disguised that it was impossible to anticipate detection, he felt as though his life’s work for the moment were ended, and heaving a great sigh of relief, he sank down upon a heap of dead leaves, and gave himself up to a brief spell of repose, which his weary frame did indeed seem to require.

The cold, together with the exhaustion of hunger and fatigue, sealed his senses for a brief space, and he remembered nothing more.  He fancied his eyes had been closed but for a few seconds, when some noise close at hand caused him to raise his head with a start.  But the dusk had deepened in the great wood, and he saw that he must have been asleep for quite half an hour.