Oh, how dark and dismal the woods seemed in the gloom. But happily there was a full moon to come that night, as the boys knew, and they felt also that the darkness shielded them from immediate pursuit.
Onward they plunged—through thicket and brake, through firm ground and swamp, hardly knowing which way they were going, until they came upon a brook, and sat down on its bank in utter weariness.
"Oh, Evroult, how shall we find our way? And we have had no supper; I am getting hungry already," cried the younger boy.
"Do you not know that all these brooks run to the Cherwell, and the Cherwell into the Thames? We will keep down the brook till we come to the river, and then to the river till we come to Oxnaford."
"Listen, there is the bay of a hound! Oh, Evroult, he will tear us in pieces! It is that savage mastiff of theirs, 'Tear-'em.' The keepers are after us. Oh, what shall we do?"
"Be men—like our father," said the sterner Evroult.
"But we have no weapons."
"I have my fist. If he comes at me I will thrust it down his foul throat, or grasp his windpipe, and strangle him."
"Evroult, I have heard that they cannot track us in water. Let us walk down the brook."
"Oh, there is a fire!"