"Pitch anything that belongs to this fellow into the road."
A coat was thrown out.
"Curse you both!" said Rosmore. "By God! if I live you shall pay for your work to-night!"
"Is he to pay the price, mistress?" said the highwayman. "You know what you have suffered at his hands. What things have his vile lips threatened you with to-night? His life is in your hands. Speak, and the world shall be well rid of him."
"Oh, no, Gilbert, no!"
"I almost wish you had said 'Yes.' Mount!" he called to the post-boy.
A string of oaths came from Lord Rosmore.
"Silence!" the highwayman shouted, but the oaths did not cease. Then a sharp report rang out upon the night, and a cry came from the captive.
"Oh, Gilbert, you have killed him!"
"That was a cry of fear, mistress. The bullet is in the tree a good four feet above his head," said the highwayman as he closed the coach door.