He scrambled for the heavy underbrush at the roadside and darted off into the forest, his revolver in his hand, his heart palpitating like mad.

Time and again as he fled through the dark thickets, he heard the hoarse shouts of men in the distance.

It dawned upon him at last that there had been an uprising of some kind in the city--that there was rioting and murder going on--that these men were not ordinary bandits, but desperate strikers in quest of satisfaction for grievances ignored.
Night came and he dropped to the soft, dank earth, utterly exhausted and absolutely lost for the time being in the pathless hills.
At ten o'clock the next morning Colonel Quinnox and a company of soldiers, riding from the city gates toward the north in response to a call for help from honest herders who reported attacks and robberies of an alarming nature, came upon the stiff, foot-sore, thorn-scratched Mr.
Hobbs, not far from the walls of the town.

The Colonel was not long in grasping the substance of Hobbs's revelations.

He rode off at once for the Witch's hovel, sending Hobbs with a small, instructed escort to the Castle, where Baron Dangloss was in consultation with Mr.Tullis and certain ministers.
The city was peaceful enough, much to the surprise of Hobbs.