.

AT THE SIGN OF THE JOLLY CRICKETERS.
The passing by of the pair of horsemen, who so little suspected the treasure existing behind the small inn's narrow window did homage in Aminta's mind to her protector's adroitness.

Their eyes met without a smile, though they perceived the grisly comic of the incident.

Their thoughts were on the chariot to follow.
Aminta had barely uttered a syllable since the start of the flight from Ashead.

She had rocked in a swing between sensation and imagination, exultant, rich with the broad valley of the plain and the high green waves of the downs at their giant's bound in the flow of curves and sunny creases to the final fling-off of the dip on sky.