The Forest Lovers

Then she heard something over the valley below which gave her heart-

beats a new tune. A great ado down there, horses, dogs, voices of men

shouting for more. She guessed in a moment that the foresters had come

upon the body of Galors, knew that hue-and-cry was now only a question

of hours, and all her joys at an end. She took her hand from Prosper's

forehead, and he awoke then and there, and smiled up at her.

"Lord," said she, "it is time for us to be going, for they have found

Dom Galors; and at the Abbey they have many slot-hounds."

"Good, my child," he answered. "I am ready for anything in the world.

Let us go."

He got up instantly and armed himself; they mounted their animals and

plunged into the great shade of the beeches. All the steering they

could do now was by such hints of the sun as they could glean here and

there. Prosper by himself would have been fogged in a mile, but Isoult

had not lived her fifteen years of wild life for nothing: she had the

fox's instinct for an earth, and the hare's for doubling on a trail.

The woods spoke to her as they spoke to each other, as they spoke to

the beasts, or the beasts among themselves. What indeed was this poor

little doubtful wretch but one of those, with a stray itching to be

more? Soul or none, she had an instinct which Prosper discovered and

learned to trust. For the rest of the day she tacitly led the knight-

at-arms in the way he should go.

But with all her help they made a slow pace. The forest grew more and

more dense; there seemed no opening, no prospect of an opening. She

knew what must be in store for them if the Abbot had uncoupled his

bloodhounds, so she strained every nerve in her young body, listened

to every murmur or swish of the trees, every one of the innumerable,

inexplicable noises a great wood gives forth. She suffered, indeed,

intensely; yet Prosper never knew it. He played upon her, quite

unconsciously, by wondering over the difficulties of the road, the

slowness of their going, the probable speed of the Abbot's dogs and

foresters, and so on. Her meekness and cheerful diligence delighted

him. The nuns of Gracedieu, he promised himself, should know what a

likely novice he was bringing them. He should miss her,

pardieu! after two or three days' companionship. So they

struggled on.

Towards the time of dusk, which was very soon in that gloomy solitude,

Isoult heard in the far distance the baying of the dogs, and began to

tremble, knowing too well what all that meant. Yet she said nothing.

Prosper rode on, singing softly to himself as his custom was, his head

carried high, his light and alert look taking in every dark ambush as

a thing to be conquered--very lordly to look upon. The girl, who had

never seen his like, adored him, thought him a god; the fact was, she

had no other. Therefore, as one does not lightly warn the blessed

gods, she rode silent but quaking by his side, with her ears still on

the strain for the coming danger, and all her mind set on the fear

that Prosper would find out. Above all she heard a sound which shocked

her more, her own heart knocking at her side.