"Should these be the men?" whispered Hal in a low voice. "They come slowly."
"Who else should be on the road at this hour?" replied Kit. "They know not any reason for haste."
"A red murrain on that Puritan, then!" said Hal. "What holds him so long at the stable? All is lost, without his lanthorn. I'll ride in and fetch him."
"Nay, they must use time enough in coming hither. Hark! They have halted in the village. Mayhap they must needs ask the way to Fleetwood house."
"'Tis well, then. They will learn of Sir Valentine's hurt."
There was then a very trying time of silence and waiting, during which Hal's heart beat somewhat as it had beaten in the tiring-room before the performance of "Hamlet."
"Hear them again," he said at last, through his teeth. "And that rascal Puritan—"
"Save thy breath! Here he comes."
Anthony indeed now appeared with the light, crossing the yard with longer strides than he had previously taken; he, too, had heard the approaching horses.
"Into thy saddle, dog!" muttered Hal. "And a plague on thee for thy slowness! Now do as I bid, or I'll give thee a bellyful of steel!"