He started and listened intently.  Yes, there was no mistaking the sounds.  A party of mounted horsemen were approaching him along the narrow track which wandered through the wood.  Paul would have started to his feet and fled to the thicket, but his benumbed limbs refused their office.  It was freezing hard upon the ground, and he had lain there till his blood had almost ceased to circulate, and he was powerless to move.

Yet even then his thoughts were first for Edward, and only second for himself.  He rapidly reviewed the situation.

“They are on the path that he has taken.  He has the start, but they are mounted.  Are they in pursuit of anyone?  They have dogs with them:  that looks as if they were hunting something.  It were better that they should not come up with Edward.  In another half hour he will be safe at the Priory, if he make good speed, as methinks he will; for with the hope of speedy ease and rest, even the weariest traveller plucks up heart and spirit.  If they are following him, to find even me will delay them.  If not, they will pass me by unheeded.  I am not likely even to attract their notice.  I cannot escape if I would.  I am sore, weary, and chilled beyond power of flight, and the dogs would hunt me down directly.  My best chance is to rest quiet and tranquil, as if I knew not fear.  Perchance they then will let me go unscathed.”

Possibly had Paul’s faculties been less benumbed by fatigue and the bitter cold, he would scarce have argued the case so calmly; but he was calm with the calmness of physical exhaustion, and in truth his chance of escape would have been small indeed.  He could have made no real effort at flight, and the very fact of his trying to hide himself would have brought upon him instant pursuit and capture.

So he lay still, crouching in his nest of leaves, until one of the dogs suddenly gave a deep bay, and came rushing upon him, as if indeed he had been the quarry pursued.

“Halt there!” cried a deep voice in the gloom; “the dogs have found.  They never give tongue for a different trail than the right one.

“Dicon, dismount and see what it is; there is something moving there be neath that bush.”

Seeing himself discovered, Paul rose to his feet, and made a step forward, though uncertainly, as if his limbs still almost refused to obey him.

“I am a poor benighted traveller,” he said; “I pray you, can you direct me where I can get food and shelter for the night?  I have been wandering many hours in this forest, and am weary well-nigh to death.”

“Turn the lantern upon him, fellows,” said the same voice that had spoken before; and immediately a bright gleam of light was cast upon Paul’s pale, tired face and golden curling hair.

“Is this the fellow we are seeking?” asked the leader of his followers; “the description seems to fit.”

“If it isn’t one it is the other,” answered the man addressed.  “I have seen both; but, marry, I can scarce tell one from the other when they are apart.  What has he done with his companion?  They have, been together this many a day, by day and by night.”