the singing birds as, with a confused sound of galloping hoofs,
they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a slow-
curling, low-trailing cloud of dust.

As the sun rose more full and warm, the misty wreaths began to
dissolve, until at last they parted and rolled asunder like a
white curtain and there, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the
crest of the mountain toward which they were riding, and up
which the road wound steeply.

"Yonder they are, cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of
Trutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward.

Far away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the
midst of which came the star-like flash of burnished armor
gleaming in the sun.

Baron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim
smile.

And as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and
down into the leafy valley beneath. "Yonder they come," said he.
"They have followed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though
our horses are wearied with all the travelling we have done
hither and yon these five days past. How far is it, Lord Baron,
from here to Michaelsburg?"

"About ten leagues," said the Baron, in a gloomy voice.

Hans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw