And then, turning about for an explanation of these wonders, Hobb saw what drove them from his mind—the figure of Hugh crouched in a little hollow, and shaking like a leaf. Hobb ran towards him with a shout, and at the shout Hugh leaped to his feet, with the eyes of a hunted hare, and looked on all sides as though seeking where to hide. But Hobb was soon beside him, with his arm round the boy's shoulder, and gazing earnestly into his face.
"Why, lad," said he, "do you not know me again?"
Hugh stole a glance at him, and suddenly smiled and nodded, and tried to answer, but could not for the chattering of his teeth. And he clung hard to his brother's side, and shuddered from head to foot.
"Are you ill, Hugh?" Hobb asked him, bewildered at the boy's unlikeness to himself.
"No, Hobb," said Hugh, "but need we stay here now?"
"Why, no," said Hobb gently, "we will go when you like. Where do these beasts come from?"
Hugh set his lips and began to move away.
Hobb went beside him and said, "Lionel is home, but Heriot is lost. Have you seen Heriot?"
Hugh hesitated, and then stammered, "No, I have not seen him."
And Hobb knew that he had lied, Hugh who had always been as fearless of the truth as of anything else. So after that he asked no more, fearing to get another lie for an answer; and he led Hugh home, supporting him with his arm, for he was full of fits and starts and shiverings. If a lump of chalk rolled under his shoe he blanched and cried, "What's that?" and once when a field-mouse ran across the path he swooned. Then Hobb, opening his tunic at the neck, saw that nothing was between it and his body; for he, like Lionel, was without his shirt.