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muddy ground, a patch of scarlet, dark as blood. I picked it up; it was Lizzie’s silken dress, that I had washed. I looked up, peering through the dark. And then I saw them, two blacker shapes against the darkness of a tree. Lizzie stood against the trunk, and he was pressed against her. Uncertainty flooded over me again. If she were unwilling, would she not call out? I dropped the dress and was about to creep away; but then I saw a flash of steel near Lizzie’s throat. Without thought I rushed at Richard to haul him off. Hearing me, he swung around, the knife still in his hand. I saw his teeth glimmer as if he laughed, and he slashed towards me so quick, I heard the whistle of the blade. Somehow it missed, and I stepped backwards and fell. Then he was on me, and I was holding his arm with the knife, but the point was cruelly close to my face. His other arm pressed across my throat, so hard that I could not breathe, and for an age all was suffocating pain and fear; then I saw stars and fire, and thought the dragon and death and hell had come.
    Then of a sudden the weight across my throat wasgone, though something heavy fell across the rest of me; and I drew in breath at last. It was Richard across me, limp as a sack of flour. I threw him off and got to my feet. Lizzie was close, a stump of wood in her hands. In the moonlight her face was parchment white, and her eyes shimmered and were full of fear. She dropped the wood and backed away, wiping her hands on her skirts as if to clean them.
    â€œSweet Jesus—I’ve killed him!” she said.
    I bent down and put my hand upon Richard’s chest. All seemed deadly still. Blood matted his hair above his right ear, and ran from his nose. I dared not put my hand upon his parted lips, to see if there was breath. Standing, I asked Lizzie if she was harmed. She shook her head, then spied her silken dress, and hobbled across the muddy ground to pick it up.
    â€œHe told me he was setting me free,” she said. “That’s why I brought my mother’s dress, and wore my shoes. He said you had given him the key to my cage, and would be waiting for me, to take me away. He said I would never live in the cage again. His words were sweet, and he was kind. That’s why I came quietly with him. And then, when we were here, afar off in the trees . . .”
    â€œI’d made no plot with him,” I said. “He cut your key from my belt while I slept. But I woke after, sawyour cage open, and came to look for you.”
    At that moment we heard a shout and the barking of dogs. I looked towards our camp, but could see nothing. Had Tybalt found her cage unlocked, and thought she had escaped? God’s soul, there’d be a hunt now, for sure, and blame laid somewhere! And as for Richard, lying like a corpse—
    â€œThey’ll hang me for murder!” whispered Lizzie, looking at him. Richard groaned just then, and moved a little. Dogs barked and howled, coming nearer.
    Without thought, I swept Lizzie up into my arms and ran. And as I ran clouds covered up the moon again and rain began to fall, and I remember thanking God, for it meant my footsteps would be lost in mud, and no one could hunt us down.
    Like a nightmare it was, that flight. I could see nothing for the darkness and the rain, and though Lizzie was a little thing, she was heavy after hours of carrying, with the wetness in our clothes weighing us both down, and the mud ankle deep at times. Sometimes I could have sworn I saw wolves’ eyes shining at us through the rain, and once we heard something huge—a bear, possibly—crashing through the woods alongside of us. We stumbled into trees and rolled down banks, and a hundred times I slipped and fell, hurting us both, and all the while we were driven onby the dogs howling like fiends in hell.
    And on that fiendish note I think I shall end for today, Brother Benedict. I hear the bells tolling for prayers—a peaceful note, after