He had been unable to sleep, as Edward had done, in the woodman's hut, and it was now more than thirty-six hours since sleep had visited him, and those hours had been crowded with excitement, peril, and fatigue.

The potent liquor he had just drunk helped to steal his senses away, and as the party jogged through the dim aisles of the wood, Paul fell fast asleep, with his head resting on the shoulder of the stalwart trooper, and he only awoke with a start, half of fear and half of triumph--for he knew the prince was safe enough by this time--when the glare from the mouth of a great cavern, and the loud, rough voices of a number of men who came crowding out, smote upon his senses, and effectually aroused him to a sense of what was passing.
"Have you got them ?" cried a loud voice, not entirely unfamiliar to Paul, although he could not for the moment remember where he had heard it before.
"We have got one-got the most important one," answered the man who had been leader of the little band.

"The other has got off; but that matters less." "By the holy mass, it was the other that I wanted the more," cried the rougher voice, as the man came out swearing roundly; "I had an account of my own to square with him, and square it I will one of these days.

But bring in the prize--bring him in.

Let us have a look at him.