"What shall we do with this ruffian on the road?" said Frank Godolphin. "He appears to be stone dead. 'Twas a good shot, sir."
"Leave the villain. You'll lay an information before Sir Godfrey or another of your magistrates, young master parson. Did you recognize any of the gang?"
"No, my lord. I only saw the masked man. Perhaps Sherry was more fortunate."
"Not me neither," said Sherebiah hastily. He had gone to the fallen man, looked in his face, and turned him over. "'Twas all too quick and sudden, and my eyes was nigh dazed wi' shouten."
"Well, well, Sir Godfrey's is near at hand; go and inform him, and he will scour the country. We must push on."
The tree was removed; the bedraggled and crestfallen postilions resumed their saddles, and with a parting salutation my lord drove off. Harry stood looking thoughtfully after the departing carriage.
"Master Harry," said Sherebiah, coming up to him, "this be a bad business. The man bean't dead."
"He's saved for the hangman, then."
"Ay, and who med 'ee think he be?"
"You do know him, then! What does this mean, Sherry?"