Without her, flight would have been easy enough, but that was not worth considering for a moment.

With her it was more difficult, yet, as I had watched the woodmen, accustomed to cool forest shades, faint under the fiery glare of the world above, to make a dash for liberty seemed each hour more easy.

I had seen the men in the streets drop one by one, and the spears fall from the hands of guards about the pallisades; I had seen messengers who came to and fro collapse before their errands were accomplished, and the forest women, who were Heru's gaolers, groan and drop across the thresholds of her prison, until at length the way was clear--a babe might have taken what he would from that half-scorched town and asked no man's leave.

Yet what did it avail me?
Heru was helpless, my own spirit burnt in a nerveless frame, and so we stayed.
But with rain strength came back to both of us.

The guards, lying about like black logs, were only slowly returning to consciousness; the town still slept, and darkness favoured; before they missed us in the morning light we might be far on the way back to Seth--a dangerous way truly, but we were like to tread a rougher one if we stayed.