Suddenly Raymond raised himself and looked along the road they had just traversed. There were the two grey-robed figures moving slowly up the hill, but away in the distance the sun glittered upon a swiftly-moving mass of steel, followed by a thick cloud of dust.
"Soldiers!" he exclaimed.
Redward raised himself. "I like it not," he exclaimed. "They are following us. That rogue of a barber hath betrayed us. Lie low, Raymond, and let them pass; I perceive 'twill mean a journey by night for us."
Stretching side by side, and concealing their hoods with sprays of heather, father and son waited and watched. The two lepers were within two hundred paces ere they heard the thunder of the horses' hoofs behind them. With a cry of terror one of the twain turned and fled; the other, ignorant of the intentions of the pursuing horsemen, held his ground, flourishing his rattle with the vigour that danger bestowed upon him.
Like a flash the foremost soldier was upon him; a back-handed sweeping cut with his sword and the grey-robed figure was dashed to the earth, and ere his companion had come level with the spot where the Englishmen were concealed, he was transfixed by a lance-thrust and was trampled beneath the horses' hoofs.
With wild cries of exultation the troop of horsemen reined in their steeds and surveyed the result of their fell work.
"Quickly, Geoffroi! Strip those cloaks from the bodies of these accursed English and search them for concealed papers," ordered their leader. "By St. Denis, 'tis a smart piece of work, though I little thought the rogues would have died so tamely!"
The soldier addressed dismounted, handed his still reeking lance to a comrade, and bent over the corpse of the man he had slain. With a quick motion he tore aside the robe. But the next instant, uttering a shriek of terror, he jumped backwards, covering his eyes with his hands as if to ward off a blow.
"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the captain, craning over the neck of his charger. "What have we done? They are in truth real lepers! Dolt of a barber! A curse upon Raoul de Rohein! He hath deceived us! Is it the same with the other?"
The first victim had fallen on his back, and his hood, stained with his blood, had slipped from off his head, disclosing the repulsive disease-eaten features of a man whose malady was far advanced.