The king's sheriff wanted to speak to him.
And he was afraid of the eyes and ears behind.
The fingers were cautioning him to be ready--when the opportunity came.
The path widened and through the thin tree-tops above their heads the starlight filtered down upon them.

The leading guards were twenty feet away.

How far behind were the others?
A moment more and they plunged into deep night again.

The figures ahead were mere shadows.

Again the fingers dug into Nathaniel's arm, and pressing close to the sheriff he bent down his head.
A low, quick whisper fell in his ear.
"Don't give up hope! Marion--Winnsome--" The sheriff jerked himself erect without finishing.