Not a sound now broke the solemn silence of the night, save the beating of the horses' hoofs on the hard road.
They passed through hamlets once full of happy and industrious peasantry, now scenes of black ruin and dire desolation.
Sometimes starving dogs would follow them with a fierce howl, and it became necessary to beat off the poor animals with the whip. Sometimes a solitary shout, or the shrill scream of a woman's voice reached their ears, and the young men would have halted out of pure compassion. But it might not be!
"On, on!" cried Geoffrey; "we may not draw rein for man nor woman, for foe nor friend, till we have done the King's business."
The signs of the works of the Prince of Darkness were often visible, and the sky in a dozen places reflected the red glare of lurid flames.
Once they came very near to a scene of fierce conflict—men were besieging a strong stone mill and the valiant miller was making a hard fight for his life and homestead.
Ralph was strongly moved at this sight, all his keen soldierly instincts arose in his soul, and he laid his hand on Geoffrey's arm as he cried—
"Oh! may we not make one gallant charge on that murderous mob? we should scatter them as chaff before the wind. Oh! Geoffrey, give leave, I prithee!"
"And lose the King's letter, perhaps. Nay, my brave boy, it must not be," answered Geoffrey, as they galloped on.
On, on into the darkness they rode, their gallant horses neither faltering nor failing. As they rode a shrill cry as of some stricken creature in its last agony burst upon their ears; they could not avoid this case of distress, it lay in their very road.