Making inquiries he found that the young man had gone out the evening before, and had not returned.

Extremely uneasy at the circumstance, Cuthbert went to the city guard, thinking that perhaps his guide might have got drunk, and been shut up in the cells.

No news, however, was to be obtained there, and after waiting some hours, feeling sure that some harm had befallen him, he gave notice to the authorities of his loss, and then mounting his horse, and leaving some money with the landlord of the hostelry to give to his guide in case the latter should return, he started at midday by the southern road.
He felt sure now that he was overtaken, and determined to keep his eyes and faculties thoroughly on watch.
The roads in those days were mere tracks.

Here and there a little village was to be met with; but the country was sparsely cultivated, and traveling lonely work.

Cuthbert rode fast, carefully avoiding all copses and small woods through which the road ran, by making a circuit round them and coming on to it again on the other side.
His horse was an excellent one, the gift of the earl, and he had little fear, with his light weight, of being overtaken if he could once leave his enemies behind him.
At length he approached an extensive forest, which stretched for miles on either side.
Half a mile before he reached it the track divided.
He had for some little time eased his horse down to a walk, as he felt that the wood would be the spot where he would in all probability be attacked, and he needed that his steed should be possessed of its utmost vigor.
At the spot where the track branched a man in the guise of a mendicant was sitting.