"To the left, certainly, the left; I remember his pointing with his
wooden sword."
"Ay, but he held his sword in his left hand, and so pointed across his
body with it," said the Templar.
Each maintained his opinion with sufficient obstinacy, as is usual in
all such cases; the attendants were appealed to, but they had not been
near enough to hear Wamba's directions. At length Brian remarked, what
had at first escaped him in the twilight; "Here is some one either
asleep, or lying dead at the foot of this cross--Hugo, stir him with the
butt-end of thy lance."
This was no sooner done than the figure arose, exclaiming in good
French, "Whosoever thou art, it is discourteous in you to disturb my
thoughts."
"We did but wish to ask you," said the Prior, "the road to Rotherwood,
the abode of Cedric the Saxon."
"I myself am bound thither," replied the stranger; "and if I had a
horse, I would be your guide, for the way is somewhat intricate, though
perfectly well known to me."
"Thou shalt have both thanks and reward, my friend," said the Prior, "if
thou wilt bring us to Cedric's in safety."
And he caused one of his attendants to mount his own led horse, and give
that upon which he had hitherto ridden to the stranger, who was to serve
for a guide.
Their conductor pursued an opposite road from that which Wamba had
recommended, for the purpose of misleading them. The path soon led
deeper into the woodland, and crossed more than one brook, the approach
to which was rendered perilous by the marshes through which it flowed;
but the stranger seemed to know, as if by instinct, the soundest ground
and the safest points of passage; and by dint of caution and attention,
brought the party safely into a wilder avenue than any they had yet
seen; and, pointing to a large low irregular building at the upper
extremity, he said to the Prior, "Yonder is Rotherwood, the dwelling of
Cedric the Saxon."
This was a joyful intimation to Aymer, whose nerves were none of the
strongest, and who had suffered such agitation and alarm in the course
of passing through the dangerous bogs, that he had not yet had the
curiosity to ask his guide a single question. Finding himself now at his
ease and near shelter, his curiosity began to awake, and he demanded of
the guide who and what he was.
"A Palmer, just returned from the Holy Land," was the answer.