Paul listened in amaze.  It was an effort to think of moving again tonight, so weary and worn and suffering was he; but anything was better than remaining behind in the power of these terrible men, and he rose slowly to his feet, though wincing with every movement.

“I know it pains you,” cried the girl compassionately; “but oh, what is that pain to what you would have to endure if you were to stay?  And you will not have to walk.  My palfrey is ready tied up in the wood, a bare stone’s throw from here.  You shall ride her, and I will run beside you, and guide you to the trysting place, where my Jack will be awaiting me, and his great roan will carry the pair of us.  Now silence, and follow me.  There is a narrow exit from this inner recess in the cave known only to me and to Madge.  Not one of the robbers, not even my father himself, knows of it.  They think they have you in a safe trap, and will not even keep watch tonight after their weary search.

“Tread softly when you reach the open, lest our footsteps be heard.  But it is far from the mouth of the cave, and I have never raised an alarm yet, often as I have slipped out unawares.  Give me your hand—­so; now stoop your head, and squeeze through this narrow aperture.  There, here are we beneath the clear stars of heaven, and here is my pretty Mayflower waiting patiently for her mistress.

“Yes, pretty one; you must bear a heavier burden tonight, but you will do it gladly for your mistress’s sake.

“Mount, good sir; we shall soon be out of reach of all danger.”

It must be a dream thought Paul, as, mounted on a light palfrey, he went speeding through the dun wood by intricate paths, a fairy-like figure springing through the gloom beside him, and guiding the horse, as he was utterly unable to do.

It seemed as if his strength had deserted him.  His hands had lost their power, and it was all he could do to maintain his seat on the animal that bounded lightly along with her unaccustomed burden.  At last they reached an open glade; a dark, motionless figure was standing in the moonlight.

“It is he—­it is my Jack!” cried the fairy, springing forward with a faint cry of welcome.

“O Jack, I have brought your old friend Paul Stukely back to you.  You must take care of him as well as of me, for he has been in deadly peril tonight.”

Chapter 7:  The Protection Of The Protected.

“Nay, wife, why sit up for him?  Since he has taken to these roving habits at night there is no depending upon him.  I must put an end to them if they are to disturb you so.  The boy is safe enough.  Why are you anxious about him tonight?”

It was Farmer Devenish who spoke these words to his wife, half an hour after the rest of the household had retired to rest, and he found her still sitting beside the fire, which she had piled up high on the hearth, as if she meant to remain downstairs for some time; which indeed she distinctly told him was her intention, as she did not wish to go to bed until Jack had come in.