They knew there was no twilight, or next to none, on these high southern plateaux.

Should it come on a dark night, how were they to follow the dog, going as he was upon a run?
_He_ might still keep the trail and come up with Francois, but what would be the good of that, so long as _they_ were not with him?
It would only give Francois another companion in his misery, but no clue by which he would be enabled to find _them_, or they _him_.
These thoughts were communicated between the two as they galloped on side by side.

Soon the sun set, and the shades of twilight fell upon the grass.

It grew darker, until it was difficult to distinguish the dusky body of the hound passing over the sward.

What was to be done?
He would soon glide away from them, and leave them without a guide! "I have it!" suddenly exclaimed Basil; and at the words he spurred his horse forward to overtake Marengo.