flying to the bottom of the ditch, my face being turned from the road.

I could hear Giles and Aymeric steal across the way, and the rustling of
boughs as they settled on the opposite side. I could hear the trampling
hoofs of horses coming slowly and wearily from the east. At this moment
chanced a thing that has ever seemed strange to me: I felt the hand of
the violer woman laid lightly and kindly on my hair. I had ever pitied
her, and, as I might, had been kind to her and her bairn; and now, as it
appears, she pitied me. But there could be no help in her, nor did she
dare to raise her voice and give an alarm. So I could but gnaw at my
gag, trying to find scope for my tongue to cry, for now it was not only
the travellers that I would save, but my own life, and my escape from a
death of torment lay on my success. But my mouth was as dry as a kiln,
my tongue was doubled back till I thought that I should have choked. The
night was now deadly still, and the ring of the weary hoofs drew nearer
and nearer. I heard a stumble, and the scramble of a tired horse as he
recovered himself; for the rest, all was silent, though the beating of my
own heart sounded heavy and husky in my ears.

Closer and closer the travellers drew, and soon it was plain that they
rode not carelessly, nor as men who deemed themselves secure, for the
tramp of one horse singled itself out in front of the others, and this,
doubtless, was ridden by an "eclaireur," sent forward to see that the way
ahead was safe. Now I heard a low growl of a curse from Brother Thomas,
and my heart took some comfort. They might be warned, if the Brother
shot at the foremost man; or, at worst, if he was permitted to pass, the
man would bear swift tidings to Chinon, and we might be avenged, the
travellers and I, for I now felt that they and I were in the same peril.

The single rider drew near, and passed, and there came no cry of "Pax