Plunging in about forty feet, he was stopped by a stream running under the brushwood.

But the shadow was so deep that Michael ran no risk of being seen, unless the wood should be carefully searched.

He therefore led his horse to the stream and fastened him to a tree, returning to the edge of the road to listen and ascertain with what sort of people he had to do.
Michael had scarcely taken up his position behind a group of larches when a confused light appeared, above which glared brighter lights waving about in the shadow.
"Torches!" said he to himself.

And he drew quickly back, gliding like a savage into the thickest underwood.
As they approached the wood the horses' pace was slackened.

The horsemen were probably lighting up the road with the intention of examining every turn.
Michael feared this, and instinctively drew near to the bank of the stream, ready to plunge in if necessary.
Arrived at the top of the wood, the detachment halted.