"Do you see any sign of house or inn?" said the girl, peering afar down the road, which soon lost itself in the general monotony of the landscape.
"None, mistress; the country seems alike barren of farmhouse or tavern."
"What shall we do? I am full weary," she confessed.
"The forest offers the best protection," he reluctantly suggested. Little as he favored delay, he realized the wisdom of sparing their horses. Moreover, her appeal was irresistible.
She gazed half-dubiously into that woody depth. "Why not rest by the wayside—in the moonlight?"
"I like not the open road," he answered. "But if you fear the darkness—"
For answer she guided her horse to the verge of the forest and lightly sprang to the ground. Upon a grassy knoll, but a little way within, he spread his cloak.
"There, Jacqueline, is your couch," he said.
"But you?" she asked. "To rob you thus of your cloak seems ill-comradeship."
"The cloak is yours," he returned. "As it is, you will find it but a hard bed."