"Your nerve is good," he grunted, approvingly.
They went on at the same swift pace, hour after hour, over stumps, fallen trees, and stones, down gullies and up ridges, all in the black dark, the hunchback scouting in advance. From time to time they crossed a road, and this was done with the utmost circumspection. At last, the chill which heralds the dawn warned them of the dangers of coming daylight. The hunchback commenced to quest about, like a dog seeking the scent.
"What are you looking for?" asked Horace.
"A place to hide and sleep," Croquier answered. "We won't move by day. A hunchback with a caged eagle accompanied by a boy—oh, no, that would be much too easy to trace! We can only travel by night. Well, we ought to be somewhere near the village of Hamoir. I don't want to be too close. The village might be occupied by the enemy."
Presently, with a low exclamation of satisfaction, Croquier called to the lad.
"I've found the place," he said. "Let us walk back a little way."
"Why?" asked Horace.
"You'll see," was all the reply he got.
Obediently the lad walked back to the point designated, where a narrow footpath crossed the stream.
"Now," said the hunchback, "walk through the water and over on the other side and then walk back again."