"Hark, there is a carriage coming," said the horseman, addressing the stranger, who had followed him as fast as two legs could follow four. They both paused for an instant and listened, but to their surprise the sound of rolling wheels, which they both distinctly heard, diminished instead of increasing, and it became evident that some vehicle was driving away from a spot at no great distance.
"That's droll," said the horseman, dismounting; "but we had better see after the ladies, for I dare say they are frightened."
"No doubt they are," replied the other, in a mild and musical voice, leading the way round the carriage again. "Do you know who they are?"
"Not I," answered the horseman, "don't you?"
"No, I am a stranger here," answered the other, approaching the side of the carriage, to which the lady who had been dragged out had now returned.
She was seated with her hands over her eyes, as if either crying with agitation or in deep thought; but the moment the gentleman who had come up on foot addressed her, expressing a hope that she had not been much alarmed, she replied, "Oh, yes, I could not help it, but my mother has fainted. We must go back, I fear."
"It is not far, I think, to the village, Madam," said our friend the horseman, "and we will easily bring the lady to herself again; but it is a pity she fainted too. These things will happen, and if they have not got your money there is no great harm done."
"I am better, Mary," said a voice from the other side of the carriage, faint and low, yet sweet and harmonious. "Are they gone--are you quite sure they are gone?"
"Oh, dear, yes, Madam," replied the horseman, while the lady next him laid her hand tenderly upon her mother's. "One of the worthies scampered off on horseback after he had fired at me, and the other was too quick for us all, thanks to your stiff-jointed driver. What became of the other fellow I don't know."
"You are not hurt, Sir, I hope," said the younger of the two ladies, gazing timidly at him through the half light.