"Look back," I replied.
She obeyed me, and I saw by the look in her eyes that she came to the same conclusion as I.
"What can we do?" she cried.
In truth I knew not how to answer her. I had discovered enough of the Killigrews to know they would not be easily beaten. I was sure too they would seek to be revenged on me, while the maid Nancy would be wholly in their power, if I were unable to protect her. To make matters worse, too, I saw that her horse was lame. It might be that only a stone had become wedged in the hollow of his hoof, but on the other hand it might be more serious. Daylight would soon be upon us, and our followers, if they were the Killigrews, would find us easily.
"In truth, I cannot tell you just yet," I said. "Let us ride on."
It was but comfortless words I could speak, but she made no complaining answer. We descended into a little hollow from which we could not see our pursuers, but we were none the less free from danger. A few minutes later we climbed the hill on the other side, I vainly racking my brain for some feasible plan. All the time the light grew brighter, but I looked not towards her. Truth to tell, I was ashamed. When we reached the summit of the hill, while we were hidden from those behind, the country southward was exposed to our view. My heart gave a great leap, for what I saw set me thinking rapidly.
Before me, about two miles away, rose a great rock. It was perhaps thirty feet high, while nearly at the summit I could see what seemed like masonry. A doorway was fashioned, just as though some one had used the place as a refuge.
"That," I thought, "is Roche Rock!"
No sooner had the fancy flashed through my brain, than I remembered Anthony, the tale-teller. I called to mind what he had said about escaping to a high rock amidst the wild waste of moors. I minded the scrap of paper lying at my chamber door, on which was written the word ROCHE.
As I said, the light was increasing, although the sun had not yet risen. I looked back; we were still hidden from our pursuers.