Then, grasping her more firmly in his arms, he urged his horse on at a more rapid pace. Before long they came to a secluded spot, a ravine, in which stood three horses, and by one a sidesaddle.
“Now, my sweet cousin, if you will go willingly I will let you ride; if not, I will carry you,” said Kent King.
“I will ride, if I must; anything to escape your loathsome touch.”
“So be it; father, please saddle that white steed for my cousin, and then change our saddles.”
“And what must we do with these horses?” asked the man, turning to those they had just ridden to the spot.
“Draw your knife across their throats.”
“What!”
“Of course, for it will keep pursuers from following on them; why do you hesitate to kill a brute, when you have taken human life?”
“Boy, don’t call up that phantom from the past!” sternly said the older villain.
“Bah, don’t be a child; don’t let the ‘boy be father to the man’; come, now, my sweet cousin!”