Having determined which way to pursue, he pushed his horse into a gallop, and entered the forest as the last rays of the sun trembled on the mountains. The thick foliage of the trees threw a gloom around, which was every moment deepened by the shades of evening. The path was uninterrupted, and the count continued to follow it till all distinction was confounded in the veil of night. Total darkness now made it impossible for him to pursue his way. He dismounted, and fastening his horse to a tree, climbed among the branches, purposing to remain there till morning.,
Feather-in-the-Wind signified his willingness to do what he could by a nod of his head.,
“That’s only an excuse, John. You remembered it all the time. Look me right in the eye and say whether you didn’t remember it.”.
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