As far as Henry could see it circled away on every side, a solid dark green, the leaves of oak and beech, maple and elm making a soft, sighing sound as they waved gently in the wind.

It told Henry of nothing but peace.

He had eluded the pursuit, hence it was no more.

This was a great, friendly forest, ready to shelter him, to soothe him, and to receive him into its arms for peaceful sleep.
He found a place among thick trees where the leaves of last year lay deep upon the ground.

He drew up enough of them for a soft bed, because now and for the moment he was a forest sybarite.