“Dunmore’s marauders!” exclaimed Lawrence. “Let’s get out of here.”
Their horses had both speed and “bottom” and besides were fresh, so that the chances were in favour of the young Virginians. The troopers behind spurred after them, however, and evidently were determined on their capture.
As Lawrence and Rodney approached a plantation near the road, they saw flames leap up from the hay ricks, and the next instant two mounted men rode out on the main highway.
“Those are Britishers, sent ahead,” exclaimed Lawrence.
“There’s nothing for us but to go ahead,” said Rodney, passing one of his two pistols over to Lawrence.
“I’m with you to the finish,” replied the latter, his face very grim and determined.
“Halt!” cried one of the marauders, who waved a sword as if to enforce his authority.
“Get out of the way. We are on our own business!” cried Rodney.
The second marauder lifted his pistol, but Rodney anticipated him with a quick shot which brought the man’s arm down, while the pistol clattered to the road.