"But my brother may pursue you," she urged; "and if he came up with you—ah, heaven forbid!"
"'LISTEN!' SHE CRIED, SPRINGING TO HER FEET. 'THEY ARE HORSES' HOOFS.' ... AND SHE CAUGHT HIM BY THE HAND, AND PULLED HIM TO HIS FEET."
"He will not know you have gone for another three hours," smiled he. "And here is a green bank where we can rest."
So he aided her to dismount; then, saying he would tether the horses, he led them away some distance, so that she could not see where he had posted them; and he returned to her, smiling still. Then he took from his pocket some bread, and, breaking the loaf in two, gave her one-half, saying:
"There is a spring just here; so we shall have a good breakfast."
"Is this your breakfast?" she asked, with a wondering laugh. Then she began to eat, and cried directly, "How delicious this bread is! I would have nothing else for breakfast;" and at this the student laughed.
Yet Osra ate little of the bread she liked so well; and presently she leaned against her lover's shoulder, and he put his arm round her; and they sat for a little while in silence, listening to the soft sounds that filled the waking woods as day grew to fulness and the sun beat warm through the sheltering foliage.
"Don't you hear the trees?" Osra whispered to her lover. "Don't you hear them? They are whispering for me what I dare not whisper."