“What a neighbour should, my dear young lady. What your father would do for me or any of our friends. See that wives and daughters are protected in every way.”
Then, turning quickly, he rode back a few yards.
“Go on, my lads,” he said to his followers. “I’ll overtake you directly.”
The man who had handcuffed Leather loosened one end of a hide rope from his saddle-bow, and secured it to the irons on the convict’s wrists.
“Say, Mr Dillon, sir,” said old Sam, who had been dividing his time between scowling at Brookes and watching what was going on. “That there poor chap can’t walk ten mile over to your place. He’s only just come out of a swound.”
“Indeed!” said the visitor, with a laugh. “We shall see. Now forward!”
The little procession moved off; Belton first, with his prisoner, and the two others with their guns across their saddle-bows following.
Then Mr Dillon rode back to the ladies.
“I am very sorry, Mrs Braydon. I wish you had kept away from this painful scene.”
“Yes, it is very terrible,” said the trembling woman. “But—it was in a fit of passion, I suppose, Mr Dillon. You will not be very severe?”