"To the devil with your money,—though I'll have that, too, ere all's done! First deliver me the lady!"
"I am much more like to deliver you to the flames below!" replied Hal.
"Say you so! Upon him, boys!" cried Rumney, raising a pistol, which he had furtively got ready to fire.
Two things occurred at the same moment: Anthony Underhill got his sword engaged with that of the nearest robber who had moved to obey Rumney's order; and Master Marryott struck Rumney's pistol aside with his rapier, so that it discharged itself harmlessly into the falling snow.
Hal's next movement was to turn Rumney's sword-point with his dagger, which he held in the same hand with his rein. Behind him, Mistress Hazlehurst clung to her pillion, in a state of mind that may be imagined. In front of Anthony Underhill. Francis, the page, made himself small, to avoid a possible wild thrust from the fellow that contested with the Puritan.
By this time Kit Bottle had reached Anthony's side.
"What, ye jolly bawcocks!" he cried to the robbers, his sword-point raised aloft, as if he awaited the result of his words ere choosing a victim for it. "Will ye follow this cheap rascal Rumney 'gainst gentlemen? He'll prove traitor to you all, an ye trust him long enough; as he did to me in the Low Countries! Mr. Edward Moreton, and honest John Hatch, and good Oliver Bunch, I call on you stand by true men!"
"And Tom Cobble!" shouted Hal, without looking back from his combat with Rumney, which, although it was now one of rapiers, they continued to wage on horseback. "You're my man, I wot! A raw rustical rogue like this, is not fit for London lads to follow!"
"What say ye, mates?" cried Tom Cobble. "I am for the gentleman!"