from the blood flying to my head; howsoever it be, I had never seen the
like before, nor have I seen it since, and, assuredly, the black branches
and wild weeds were lit up bare and clear.

The tramp of the horses passed, there was no cry of "Pax vobiscum," no
twang of bows, and slowly the ring of hoofs died away on the road to
Chinon. Then came a rustling of the boughs on the further side of the
way, and a noise of footsteps stealthily crossing the road, and now I
heard a low sound of weeping from the violer woman, that was crouching
hard by where I lay. Her man struck her across the mouth, and she was
still.

"You saw it? Saints be with us! You saw them?" he whispered to Brother
Thomas.

"Fool, had I not seen, would I not have given the word? Get you gone,
all the sort of you, there is a fey man in this company, be he who he
will. Wander your own ways, and if ever one of you dogs speak to me
again, in field, or street, or market, or ever mention this night . . .
ye shall have my news of it. Begone! Off!"

"Nay, but, Brother Thomas, saw'st thou what we saw? What sight saw'st
thou?"

"What saw I? Fools, what should I have seen, but an outrider, and he a
King's messenger, sent forward to warn the rest by his fall, if he fell,
or to raise the country on us, if he passed, and if afterward they passed
us not. They were men wary in war, and travelling on the Dauphin's
business. Verily there was no profit in them."