The voice of the man behind her spoke again. “Adone do! She’ll be the ruin o’ we! Let me shut her mouth for her!”
Eustacie made a strangled sound in her throat and tried to bring her hands up to clutch at the young man’s arm. The barrel of her pistol, which she was still clutching, gleamed in the moonlight, and caught the attention of her captor, who said under his breath: “If you let that pistol off I’ll murder you! Ned, take the gun away from her!”
A heavy hand wrenched it out of her grasp; the rough voice said: “It ain’t loaded. If you won’t do more, tie her up with a gag in her mouth!”
“No, no, she’s much too pretty,” said the young man, taking the pistol and slipping it into the pocket of his frieze coat “You won’t squeak, will you, darling?”
As well as she could Eustacie shook her head. The hand left her mouth and patted her cheek. “Good girl! Don’t be frightened: I swear I won’t hurt you!”
Eustacie, who had been almost suffocated, gasped thankfully: “I thought you were the Headless Horseman!”
“You thought I was what?”
“The Headless Horseman.”
He laughed. “Well, I’m not.”
“No. I can see you are not. But why did you seize me like that? What are you doing here?”