"Nay, the cur that whines for mercy, and receives it, and then snarls back at a safe distance, is too foul for thy hands, Kit! Let those fellows on the ground be put on horses and supported till we find a safe place for them. I'll not abandon any that stood by me. And then, onward! Madam, I trust you were not incommoded. Your page, I see, is safe."
Mistress Hazlehurst deigned no answer. Her feelings were wrapped in a cloak of outward composure.
The wounded men were soon made safe upon horses, and the northward journey was again in progress.
"I thank heaven we are rid of Captain Rumney!" said Hal to Kit Bottle, who now rode beside him. Anthony having taken the lead.
"I would thank heaven more heartily, an I were sure we were rid of him!" growled Kit, blinking at the snowflakes.
CHAPTER XVI.
"O most delicate fiend! Who is't can read a woman?"—Cymbeline.
The forenoon on which this fray and separation occurred was that of Saturday, March seventh, the fourth day of the flight. Marryott's company now consisted of his two original followers, his two prisoners. Ned Moreton, Tom Cobble, Oliver Bunch. John Hatch, and a few more of the robbers. What wounds had been received were bound up as well as possible, with strips torn from clothing, and were so stoically endured as not to impede the forward journey. The able-bodied rode by the disabled, giving them needful support.