“Harvey Birch!” echoed the trooper, hurling the black from him and rushing from the room. “To arms! To arms! Fifty guineas for the life of the peddler spy—give no quarter to either. Mount! Mount! To arms! To horse!”
The first impulse of Henry was, certainly, to urge the beast he rode to his greatest speed at once. But the forward movement that the youth made for this purpose was instantly checked by the peddler. Henry reluctantly restrained his impatience and followed the direction of the peddler. His imagination, however, continually alarmed him with the fancied sounds of pursuit.
“What see you, Harvey?” he cried, observing the peddler to gaze towards the building they had left with ominous interest; “what see you at the house?”
“That which bodes us no good,” returned the peddler. “Throw aside the mask and wig; you will need all your senses without much delay. Throw them in the road. There are none before us that I dread, but there are those behind who will give us a fearful race! Now ride, Captain Wharton, for your life, and keep at my heels.”
The instant that Harvey put his horse to his speed, Captain Wharton was at his heels urging the miserable animal he rode to the utmost. A very few jumps convinced the captain that his companion was fast leaving him, and a fearful glance thrown behind informed him that his enemies were as speedily approaching.
“Had we not better leave our horses?” said Henry, “and make for the hills across the fields on our left? The fence will stop our pursuers.”
“That way lies the gallows,” returned the peddler; “these fellows go three feet to our two, and would mind the fences no more than we do these ruts; but it is a short quarter to the turn, and there are two roads behind the wood. They may stand to choose until they can take the track, and we shall gain a little upon them there.”
“But this miserable horse is blown already,” cried Henry, urging his beast with the aid of the bridle, at the same time that Harvey aided his efforts by applying the lash of a heavy riding-whip he carried; “he will never stand it for half a mile farther.”
“A quarter will do; a quarter will do,” said the peddler; “a single quarter will save us, if you follow my directions.”
Somewhat cheered by the cool and confident manner of his companion, Henry continued silently urging his horse forward. Soon the captain again proposed to leave their horses and dash into the thicket.