CAPTAIN JACK AND REDGILL MISCALCULATE THEIR FORCES—THE RECOGNITION—THE RESCUE—BOB BERTRAM’S ESCAPE.
Captain Jack and his half-dozen companions were so thoroughly disappointed and disgusted with their ill-success in and around Darlington, that they made up their minds to depart for London forthwith, and seek no other adventures.
Their disabled companion shared the horse of Faulkner, and as they journeyed slowly along to the nearest public-house, the whole party were loud in cursing their late bad luck.
“Who the devil could have been that youngster who assailed us so furiously?” said Captain Jack, with an angry oath. “I tried to wing him several times, but always missed.”
“Yes, hang him, but he took d—d good care he didn’t miss me” old Bates growled; “he knocked the pistol out of my hand as clean as a whistle, and just at the moment, too, when I was going to pop at him.”
“As to handling a sword,” said Captain Jack, “he seems the very devil at that game.”
“I thought that I could do a little in that line,” said Faulkner, “but, lor’ bless yer, he gave me an awful dig in the left arm, and if it hadn’t been for a stroke of good luck I should have been killed, for he was just on the point of having a full cut at me, when I ducked my head, and—”
“Yes, and that stroke cut down a thick branch much tougher than your head or neck,” said Bates. “I saw it, so cut it, for I had enough on it.”
While thus speaking of their inglorious exploit, Jack’s party arrived at the roadside inn, where, it will be remembered, Wildfire Ned had left Bob Bertram and Tim.
Believing what the landlord had said to them, namely, that Ned Warbeck had only ridden back to the Hall for something he had forgotten, Bob and Tim waited patiently for his return.