'That we had better get off the road,' I answered. 'Take it they found him at midnight; the orderly's patience would scarcely last longer. Then, if they started after us a quarter of an hour later, they should be here in another twenty minutes.'
'It is an aguey place,' he said doubtfully.
'It will suit us better than the camp,' I answered.
No one else expressed an opinion, and Steve, taking my lady's rein, led her horse on until he came to the hollow part of the road. Here the moonlight disclosed a kind of water-lane, running away between the osiers, at right angles from the road. Steve turned into it, leading my lady's horse, and in a moment was wading a foot deep in water. The Waldgrave followed, then the women. I came last, with Marie's rein in my hand. We kept down the lane about one hundred and fifty paces, the horses snorting and moving unwillingly, and the water growing ever deeper. Then Steve turned out of it, and began to advance, but more cautiously, parallel with the road.
We had waded about as far in this direction, sidling between the stumps and stools as well as we could, when he came again to a stand and passed back the word for me. I waded on, and joined him. The osiers, which were interspersed here and there with great willows, rose above our heads and shut out the moonlight. The water gurgled black about our knees. Each step might lead us into a hole, or we might trip over the roots of the osiers. It was impossible to see a foot before us, or anything above us save the still, black rods and the grey sky.
'It should be in this direction,' Steve said, with an accent of doubt. 'But I cannot see. We shall have the horses down.'
'Let me go first,' I said.
'We must not separate,' he answered hastily.
'No, no,' I said, my teeth beginning to chatter. 'But are you sure that there is an eyot here?'
'I did not go to it,' he answered, scratching his head. 'But I saw a clump of willows rising well above the level, and they looked to me as if they grew on dry land.'