west; while beneath them on the right, at the mouth of rich-wooded
glens, opened vistas of the bright blue bay, and beyond it the sandhills
of Braunton, and the ragged rocks of Morte; while far away to the north
and west the lonely isle of Lundy hung like a soft gray cloud.

But they were not destined to reach their point as peaceably as they
could have wished. For just as they got opposite Clovelly dike, the huge
old Roman encampment which stands about midway in their journey, they
heard a halloo from the valley below, answered by a fainter one far
ahead. At which, like a couple of rogues (as indeed they were), Father
Campian and Father Parsons looked at each other, and then both stared
round at the wild, desolate, open pasture (for the country was then all
unenclosed), and the great dark furze-grown banks above their heads; and
Campian remarked gently to Parsons, that this was a very dreary spot,
and likely enough for robbers.

"A likelier spot for us, Father," said Eustace, punning. "The old Romans
knew what they were about when they put their legions up aloft here to
overlook land and sea for miles away; and we may thank them some day for
their leavings. The banks are all sound; there is plenty of good water
inside; and" (added he in Latin), "in case our Spanish friends--you
understand?"

"Pauca verba, my son!" said Campian: but as he spoke, up from the ditch
close beside him, as if rising out of the earth, burst through the
furze-bushes an armed cavalier.

"Pardon, gentlemen!" shouted he, as the Jesuit and his horse recoiled
against the groom. "Stand, for your lives!"