But that was not to be for many an hour yet.
Towards night the wind, which had been blowing in gusts over the hill- tops and along the valleys, gathered into a gale; and in it I could hear the distant boom of surf on an iron-bound coast.

Ever and again I met country folk hurrying inland, with now and then a soldier in their company.

And once, as I passed a lonely moor, there slunk past me a fellow who by his swarthy face and black flashing eyes I knew to be a Spaniard.
As hour passed hour through the night the storm raged fiercer, till presently I could scarce make head against it and sank for an hour on the turf, praying only that this weariness might befall mine enemy also.
When at dawn I struggled to the hill-top and looked out, I dreaded to find him vanished.

But no.

My prayer must surely have been answered, for he staggered on scarce a mile ahead of me down towards the valley.
Twas a narrow valley, with a swampy tract below, and rising again sharply to the hill opposite.