The reader will remember that we left Etienne of Aescendune cum Malville and his band in a most critical moment--lost in a wilderness full of enemies of unknown number and uncertain position; but with a gleam of comfort in the shape of a light which had arisen out of the gloom before them.
"It is one of the rascals carrying a torch. Let loose the dogs; if they but seize him, we can extort the whole truth; then we shall know what to do."
Ralph immediately slipped the older and fiercer hound, and tried to set him on the destined prey; but to his astonishment the beast bounded forward but a few yards, then returned with its tail between its legs and whined piteously.
"Are we all bewitched?" exclaimed Etienne.
"Witches and warlocks are said to abound in these woods, and many other works of Satan also."
"The light goes steadily onwards: it is a man carrying a torch; let us follow him up."
They followed rapidly, the torch going smoothly on before them, when all at once the whole party fell into a miry slough up to their waists.
The deceitful light danced about in a joyous manner, as if it were mocking them, and then went out and left them all in utter darkness, struggling vainly in the mud and slime.
"Where are we?" said Pierre, piteously.
"In the Dismal Swamp," said Ralph.