It was not until he was deep among the tree trunks that he cast a glance backwards, when he found that he could still see them through the branches on the road above him.

The archer was standing with folded arms, his bow jutting from over his shoulder, and the sun gleaming brightly upon his head-piece and the links of his chain-mail.

Beside him stood his giant recruit, still clad in the home-spun and ill-fitting garments of the fuller of Lymington, with arms and legs shooting out of his scanty garb.

Even as Alleyne watched them they turned upon their heels and plodded off together upon their way..