Part 33 (2/2)

”No sign of a living creature,” remarked one of the party, ”though the land away on our left seemeth well wooded. How call you yonder forest, Armand?” he inquired, addressing one of the attendants, a Gascon who had spent the greater part of his life in the neighbourhood of Calais.

”'Tis the forest of Ambleteuse, sir,” replied the man; ”there the wild boar is to be found.”

”Ah There is good sport, fair sirs Let us ride forward.”

Half-an-hour's sharp canter brought them to the edge of the wood, and in a long, straggling line the gay-hearted Englishmen, with loud shouts and many a blast upon their horns, plunged into the gloom of the forest glades.

For a while no signs of animal life appeared, then suddenly there came from one of the rearmost hors.e.m.e.n shouts of ”A boar!”

Instantly the party turned, and cras.h.i.+ng through the underwood, made towards the sound. Raymond, who had been in the van, now found himself in the rear, and, spurring his steed and calling to his attendant to follow, he strove to overtake his companions, while the loud grunts of the hunted boar could be distinctly heard amid the snapping of the brushwood.

At length the glade descended towards a babbling brook, and here the press of hors.e.m.e.n became so thick that many were riding hip to hip.

Suddenly Raymond's horse trod in a rabbit-hole, and before he could realise what had happened he found himself hurtling through the air and striking the soft earth with a heavy thud. Fortunately, the young knight was lightly clad, and fell without injury, but on leaping to his feet he saw his body-servant lying, senseless on the ground, while the two steeds, entangled in their fall, were madly kicking each other with their iron-shod hoofs.

In the excitement of the chase the rest of the cavalcade had rushed onwards, heedless of their companions' misfortunes, and the sound of feet was already dying away.

With a bound Raymond sprang to the side of his attendant and dragged him out of the reach of the perilous hoofs. Then he sought for his horn to summon a.s.sistance, but the instrument was crushed and rendered useless by the fall. Baffled in his purpose, he applied his energies to the task of restoring the unconscious man, bathing his forehead with water obtained from the brook.

His efforts at length were rewarded, for the servant sat up and gazed around in a dazed way.

”Art hurt, Thompson?” asked Raymond anxiously.

”Can scarcely tell, Sir Raymond, save that my head is swimming round like a roasting joint, and my shoulder-blades seem growing out of my neck.”

”'Tis of small moment. But stand up if thou canst.” Thompson staggered to his feet, and to the knight's satisfaction he found that none of the man's limbs were broken.

”'Tis a sorry pa.s.s, for we must needs find our way back afoot. Pull thyself together, man, for 'tis a goodly step betwixt us and the camp.”

Drawing his hunting-knife, Raymond put the two struggling horses--each of whom had a leg broken--out of their misery, then the twain set out on their homeward way. By the time they emerged from the forest their shadows fell far athwart the path, for the sun was sinking in the west; but Thompson was rapidly recovering, and their pace was well maintained.

”There is the hill from whence we first saw the wood,” remarked the knight. ”But methinks we can leave that well on our left, for the camp lies yonder.”

”I deem thee to be right, fair sir. But, mark ye! Look at yonder clouds.”

Raymond looked in the direction indicated, and saw that a storm was rapidly driving towards them.

”Night cometh on apace, and with it a tempest,” quoth he. ”Hasten, or we shall be benighted in this dreary plain.”

Hardly had they traversed a distance of three arrow-flights than the wind, hitherto a faint westerly breeze, sprang up with terrific violence. The sand rose in thick clouds, shutting out everything except in their immediate vicinity, and the sun, in a mist of pale yellow sky, sank beneath the indigo-coloured clouds.

Onward they steadily plodded through the heavy yielding sand, the swiftly-falling darkness bringing with it a heavy storm of rain and hail. Wondering whether his comrades were faring as badly, the young knight stumbled and plunged resolutely onwards, his serving-man following closely at his heels, the whistling of the wind making conversation impossible.

For over two hours the twain pursued their uncomfortable walk, till at length a dark object blocked their path. It was a ruined windmill.

Making their way round its ma.s.sive base, the weary travellers found some slight shelter from the force of the wind, and, panting from their exertions, they leaned against the stonework to recover their breath.

”Dost know where we are?” shouted Raymond, his voice almost inaudible in the howling wind.

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