The mist rose until it had quite enveloped the band of horsemen. The clouds were returning to their domain, and were asking the intruders by what right they were there. Their challenge had to be heeded, as it became thenceforth impossible to see the way. The guide proposed to go on ahead for a few hundred paces, promising to call back to the others if the path proved to be safe.
A quarter of an hour's anxious waiting followed, while the cold mist powdered every man's beard and hair with hoar frost. Still failing to hear any call from below, Richard descended a few steps and shouted to the guide. No answer. Hungry, thirsty, shivering, the hussars stood waiting.
"Follow me," commanded Richard, and he proceeded to lead his men, as good luck might guide him, down the mountain. All dismounted and led their horses after them. The fog continued to wrap them about as they descended, but at length they reached a thick growth of juniper bushes.
"We must camp here for the night," declared Richard, and bade his men kindle fires.
It was already growing dark. Possibly the sun was still shining up on the heights, but down there in the dense fog it was dark. Brushwood was at hand in plenty, so that the hussars were at least sure not to freeze. They hobbled their horses and left them. Fodder there was none to give them, but the riders themselves were no better off.
The hussars lighted their fires and gathered about them, tired nearly to death and longing for one thing above all else,—sleep. Richard gave orders that one man should remain awake at each fire to tend it; then he wrapped himself in his cloak and lay down by his fire.
It was too much to expect any one to keep awake. The watchers thought that if they only threw on enough fuel the fires would last.
Scarcely had the sleepers had time to fly home in their dreams and greet the dear ones there, when a sudden uproar wakened them all with a start. It was the whinnying of frightened horses. The thicket had caught fire from the unguarded watch-fires, and was one sheet of flame when the men awoke.
"Up the mountain!" cried Richard, running to his horse and seeking the nearest way of escape from the spreading sea of fire that raged around him.
There was light enough now to show them the way only too clearly, and a perilous, breakneck path it was. The extremity of the danger in their rear, however, gave to men and horses an almost preternatural strength, and they accomplished in a short time an ascent that made them dizzy to look back upon. They stood there a moment, steaming with perspiration in the cold night air, and not daring to linger. They were forced to push on, if only to keep warm. There was no halting for consultation now; every man made the best of his way forward; if any should faint by the way they would have to lie where they fell.