The old landlord saw him mount his horse, and turned pale as he thought of the great danger into which the bold, rash youth was about to plunge.
“For heaven’s sake!” said old Boniface, approaching Ned, “for heaven’s sake, give up this wild freak. How can you, a mere lad, think of conquering any one of that desperate gang when so many valiant men have fallen in the attempt? Take my advice, Ned Warbeck, steer clear of that murdering crew.”
“Look here, landlord,” said Ned, gaily, “there is one favour I have to ask of you, and that is, keep a still tongue in your head. I shall only be absent an hour or two at most. Do not tell my comrades which way I have gone should they ask, but say you think I have gone towards the Hall for something I have left behind. Do this, and I shall well repay you in times to come.”
So speaking, Wildfire Ned dashed away into a neighbouring thicket, and was soon lost to view.
In a few moments he emerged again into the open country.
Over bridge and ditch he gaily rode, humming a tune. The moon came out, and shone with unusual splendour.
Ere long he approached the borders of the lonely heath, which, like a white expanse of silvered scenery, lay open before him.
His brave mare Starlight had carried him nobly, but from pure instinct began to snort and slacken her pace as she approached the wilderness-like plain.
In the far distance Wildfire Ned saw ravenous night birds circling in the sky, and alighting on a huge oak tree.
As he approached still nearer his mare stood still, and cocked her ears.