"The peasant's horse hath gone lame," replied one of the soldiers. "Can we not despatch the guide, for, certes, he is of no further use, and it will save us the trouble of looking after him?"
"Nay!" replied Raymond sturdily. "I am loth to cause a harmless peasant to be slain. Make him mount behind thee, Robert, but keep a tight hold on his chain."
Once again the advance was resumed, the horses floundering over the slippery, leaf-strewn path, their riders being put to great trouble by reason of the overhanging branches that often almost swept them from their saddles.
Presently they began to descend a steep declivity, the slope requiring all the skill of the horsemen to keep their steeds on their feet, while the rain, now falling in torrents, had transformed the little path into a foaming stream.
Suddenly a vivid flash of lightning rent the darkness of the night, and in the dazzling glare Raymond beheld, with a thrill of horror, two of the men who were leading disappear into a yawning chasm almost at his feet, their cries drowned by the appalling crash of the accompanying thunder. By dint of reining in his horse till the animal was almost on its haunches, the young squire saved himself from a similar fate, and slipping to the ground he awaited, in terrible suspense, the next flash that would give some idea of his position. The succeeding period of darkness seemed to weigh upon him like a suffocating shroud, while the silence was broken only by the frantic prancing of the remaining horses, the feeble groans of one of the fallen men, and a low gurgling sound a short distance away—a sound that caused indescribable terror in the mind of the young squire.
Then came another crash and a ponderous mass fell across the path he had just passed, and another shriek of agony rent the air. To the horrified Raymond, whose superstitious feelings were aroused by the war of the elements and the tragedy of his surroundings, the place savoured of the infernal regions; and gazing with wide-open eyes into the inky blackness, he dumbly awaited the next gleam of blinding light.
At length, after a seemingly endless suspense, it came—a double flash. Short as was the duration of the glare it served to intensify the horror of his position.
At his feet yawned the pit, wherein the feebly-moving limbs of two of his men still writhed in the throes of death, while their horses were frantically kicking each other in the confined space. Behind him lay another man-at-arms, the blood welling from a gaping wound in his throat, while a fourth lay crushed—beyond recognition by a heavy tree-trunk that, falling across the path, effectually prevented a retreat. There was no sign of their guide, but the fifth soldier was leaning against a tree-trunk, his hands pressed tightly over his eyes as if trying to shut out the ghastly scene.
The next flash showed that he, too, had vanished, and Raymond was alone, though the shouts and cries of the unfortunate man-at-arms betokened that he was being haled off through the forest by some invisible agency—whether by men, animals, or spirits the squire dared not imagine.
And now the underwood on either side seemed alive with movement, and Raymond felt, or fancied he felt, rough hands groping towards him. Frenzy took possession of his shaking body, and, lashed into the energy of despair, he unsheathed his sword and slashed madly about him. The blade came in violent contact with an overhanging bough and snapped off close to the hilt; at the same moment the squire felt a pair of sinewy arms encircle his feet, and with a lusty heave he was upset and thrown with a crash to the ground, the point of a knife pressing against his throat warning him of the utter uselessness of further resistance.