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Dick's heart had just been awakened. He had just seen the cruel
consequences of his own behaviour; and the thought of the sum of misery
that was now acting in the whole of Shoreby filled him with despair.
At length he reached the outskirts, and there, sure enough, he saw
straight before him the same broad, beaten track across the snow that he
had marked from the summit of the church. Here, then, he went the faster
on; but still, as he rode, he kept a bright eye upon the fallen men and
horses that lay beside the track. Many of these, he was relieved to see,
wore Sir Daniel's colours, and the faces of some, who lay upon their
back, he even recognised.
About half-way between the town and the forest, those whom he was
following had plainly been assailed by archers; for the corpses lay
pretty closely scattered, each pierced by an arrow. And here Dick spied
among the rest the body of a very young lad, whose face was somehow
hauntingly familiar to him.
He halted his troop, dismounted, and raised the lad's head. As he did
so, the hood fell back, and a profusion of long brown hair unrolled
itself. At the same time the eyes opened.
"Ah! lion driver!" said a feeble voice. "She is farther on. Ride--ride
fast!"
And then the poor young lady fainted once again.
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