I'll lead on down the trail and you can meet us at the ford--once across the creek we can decide which way to travel; there must be four hours of darkness yet." I picked up the trailing rein of my horse and slipped my arm through it.

Tim faded away in the gloom like a vanishing shadow.

The young woman next me, strapped securely to her saddle, made no movement, exhibited no sign of interest; her head and body drooped, yet her hands grasped the pommel as though she still retained some dim conception of her situation.

The face under her hood was bent forward and shaded and her eyes, although they seemed open, gave no heed to my presence.

I touched her hands--thank God, they were moist and warm, but when I spoke her name it brought no response.