"
Hugo obediently rose from the couch of boughs where he had thrown
himself, and took the thong of willow from Humphrey's hand to lead
Fleetfoot. The serving-man was right. So far as Walter Skinner was
concerned they had no more to fear that night. His face was lacerated;
and by the time Hugo and Humphrey started from the thicket he had
discovered the loss of his horse. It had been better for him if his
drinking-horn, from which he now took copious draughts, had been lost
also.
"The kind of fortune that is with him, I should not wish to be with
me," observed Humphrey, when they had returned safely to the thicket.
"I will now to sleep and see what sort of a dream cometh."
Much cheered in spirit, Hugo also lay down to sleep. His courage came
back, and he felt that let the journey take as long as it would he was
equal to it.
The moon had now risen, and by its light Richard Wood, the other spy,
and his borrowed men-at-arms came riding through one of the glades of
the forest southward to the vale. Richard Wood had not the overweening
vanity of Walter Skinner; he had not taken his borrowed men-at-arms
into his confidence concerning the king's plans in order to make it
appear that he stood high in counsel; neither had he revealed the name
of the lad they sought.
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