In ten minutes more Walter Wade would be at home.
It was a pleasant anticipation for the young courtier to indulge in. Home so near, after such a long protracted absence—home, that promised the sweet interchange of natural affection, and—something more.
The cavalier—whose journey extended farther up the road—was about congratulating his companion on the delightful prospect; when a rustling noise, heard to the right of the path suddenly stopped their conversation. At the same instant a harsh voice, sounded in their ears, pronouncing the significant summons:—“stand and deliver!”
The two travellers had already ridden into the open ground, in front of the ruined hut, out of which the voice appeared to proceed. But they had no time to speculate as to whence it came: for on the instant of its utterance, a man was seen rushing forward into the middle of the road, and placing himself in a position to intercept their advance.
His threatening attitude, combined with the mode in which he manipulated a long-handled pike—the point of which he held close to the heads of their horses—left no doubt upon the minds of the travellers that to stop them was his determination.
Before either could make reply to his challenge, it was repronounced in the same loud tone, and with a fresh gesture of menace—in which the pike played an important part.
“Stand and deliver?” interrogated the cavalier, slowly repeating the stereotyped phrase. “That’s your wish, is it, my worthy fellow?”
“It is!” growled the challenger, “an’ be quickish, if ye’ve any consarn for yer skins.”
“Well,” continued the cavalier, preserving the most perfect sang froid, “you can’t say but that we’ve been quick enough in obeying your first command? You see we have both come to a stand instanter? As for your second, it requires consideration. Before delivering, we must know the why, and the wherefore—above all, to whom we are to unburthen ourselves. You won’t object, to obliging us with your name—as also your reason for making such a modest request?”
“Curse your palaver?” vociferated the man, with an impatient flourish of the pike. “There be no names given on the road, nor reasons neyther. Yer money, or yer blood! It be no use yer tryin’ to get out o’ it. Look thear! Ye see there be a dozen o’ us! What’s the good o’ resistin’? Ye’re surrounded.”