"I will put you on the road, and it is but a step," he answered; and taking my hand we plunged into the forest again. Walking on without speaking for half an hour, we came at last to a road that stretched away, white and glistening, in the bright moonlight.
"Here is your way, my son, and a plain one, too. Go to the right for a mile or thereabouts, where a road leads to the left. Follow it and it will take you zigzagging through the country to Appletop. You can't miss the way, and nothing will harm you; or if you should run across robbers, and maybe you will, say nothing, but go on, for they will not harm a lad like you."
"Where are you going?" I asked, reluctant to leave him.
"Why, what does that matter?" he answered, putting me off; but thinking better of it, added: "I am going to find my horse, the one I took from my friend the robber. He does not know any one but me now, nor I any one but him, and I am not going to leave him here."
"Where is he?" I asked.
"In the village we have just left; but the night is like day, and I shall have no trouble in finding him, and perhaps Moth's, too, who knows!" he added, his eyes lighting up as a boy's might when about to play a trick on a playmate.
"Oh, don't touch Moth's horse," I answered, filled with fear, so clever were his ways. "I wish you'd go with me, and not try to get your horse, and maybe get caught again.
"Never fear!" he answered, lightly. "Good by, and don't forget me, for I shall always be your friend, though not one you will care to own."
"I'm sure I shall; but don't take Moth's horse."
"Well, we will see. Good by."