On each side of the winding road spread the
bright green turf, occasionally shaded by picturesque groups of
doddered oaks. The calm beauty of the sylvan scene wonderfully touched
the fancy of the youthful fugitive; it soothed and gratified him. He
pulled up his pony; patted its lively neck, as if in gratitude for
its good service, and, confident that he could not be successfully
pursued, indulged in a thousand dreams of Robin Hood and his merry
men. As for his own position and prospects, he gave himself no anxiety
about them: satisfied with his escape from a revolting thraldom, his
mind seemed to take a bound from the difficulty of his situation and
the wildness of the scene, and he felt himself a man, and one, too,
whom nothing could daunt or appal.
Soon the road itself quite disappeared and vanished in a complete
turfy track; but the continuing marks of cartwheels assured him that
it was a thoroughfare, although he was now indeed journeying in the
heart of a forest of oaks and he doubted not it would lead to some
town or village, or at any rate to some farmhouse. Towards sunset, he
determined to make use of the remaining light, and pushed on apace;
but it soon grew so dark, that he found it necessary to resume his
walking pace, from fear of the overhanging branches and the trunks of
felled trees which occasionally crossed his way.
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