"Messer Hugh, Messer Hugh!" came Ralph's voice.
The squat man raised his head, sniffed with his nostrils like a wild animal, launched one more desperate blow, and without warning leaped clear and darted along the road. Hugh scrambled to his feet as Ralph galloped up, leading the stallion.
Hugh caught the bridle of his mount.
"Shoot me a shaft at yon knave," he commanded grimly. "See, he runs in the shadows of the wood."
Ralph leaped from his horse, nicked the string of his long-bow and drew a shaft from the quiver at his belt. But the squat man, after a look over his shoulder, swerved abruptly into the woods.
"He is gone from us," said Hugh regretfully.
"Nay, Messer Hugh. I think I know how he must head. Ride after me, an it please you."
Hugh led Ralph's horse between the trees, and followed the archer's footsteps. They travelled swiftly in a direction at right angles to the road, and presently emerged upon an open meadow, surprisingly clear in the twilight. Against the farther wall of woodland showed a running figure.
"I thought so," said Ralph with satisfaction.
He stepped into the clearing, raised his bow and drew the string to his ear.