they had really departed; the man, verily, thirsted for my life, but he would have slain me ere this hour, I thought, if that had been his purpose.  The poor beast a little helped to warm me with the heat of his body, and he was a friendly creature, making me feel less alone in the night.  Yet, in my own misery, I could not help but sorrow for the poor woman when she found her jackanapes gone, that was great part of her living:  and I knew what she would have to bear for its loss from the man that was her master.

As this was in my mind, the first grey stole into the sky so that I could see the black branches overhead; and now there awoke the cries of birds, and soon the wood was full of their sweet jargoning.  This put some hope into my heart; but the morning hours were long, and colder than the night, to one wet to the bone with the rains.  Now, too, I comforted myself with believing that, arrive what might, I was wholly quit of Brother Thomas, whereat I rejoiced, like the man in the tale who had sold his soul to the Enemy, and yet, in the end, escaped his clutches by the aid of Holy Church.  Death was better to me than life with Brother Thomas, who must assuredly have dragged me with him to the death that cannot die.  Morning must bring travellers, and my groaning might lead them to my aid.  And, indeed, foot-farers did come, and I did groan as well as I could, but, like the Levite in Scripture, they passed by on the other side of the way, fearing to meddle with one wounded perchance to the death, lest they might be charged with his slaying, if he died, or might anger his enemies, if he lived.

The light was now fully come, and some rays of the blessed sun fell upon me, whereon I said orisons within myself, commanding my case to the saints.  Devoutly I prayed, that, if I escaped with life, I might be delivered from the fear of man, and namely of Brother Thomas.  It were better for me to have died by his weapon at first, beside the broken bridge, than to have lived his slave, going in dread of him, with a slave’s hatred in my heart.  So now I prayed for spirit enough to defend my honour and that of my country, which I had borne to hear reviled without striking a blow for it.  Never again might I dree this extreme shame and dishonour.  On this head I addressed myself, as was fitting, to the holy Apostle St. Andrew, our patron, to whom is especially dear the honour of Scotland.

Then, as if he and the other saints had listened to me, I heard sounds of horses’ hoofs, coming up the road from Chinon way, and also voices.  These, like the others of the night before, came nearer, and I heard a woman’s voice gaily singing.  And then awoke such joy in my heart as never was there before, and this was far the gladdest voice that ever yet I heard, for, behold, it was the speech of my own country, and the tune I knew and the words.

   “O, we maun part this love, Willie,
   That has been lang between;
   There’s a French lord coming over sea
   To wed me wi’ a ring;
   There’s a French lord coming o’er the sea
   To wed and take me hame!”