"Is there no way of calling him? He will be well paid for his trouble; and you, too, Goodman, may find it worth while to come down and serve my noble master," cried the man.
"There's a horn chained to yon post; blow it, if you will, an' if he hears you, mayhap he'll bring his boat across. If you want food and drink, you'll find none fit for the quality nearer than Hailing. My wife is sick a-bed and I'm lame with the rheumatics, but I'll come down and open if you'll have patience." And the head was withdrawn and the casement shut.
In the meantime the carriage door was opened and a man descended. His figure, which a ray of the setting sun brought into strong relief, was immediately recognized by Robin, who muttered, "Sir Geoffrey Beaudesert! What brings him across my path again?" and pushing forward a little, caught the sound of his own name.
"I swear to you that Robin Freemantle is dead!"
"You lie!" shouted Robin.
Sir Geoffrey started and looked round. "What was that?" he exclaimed uneasily.
Prue instantly renewed her cries, "Help! help! If ye be true men, come to my rescue!"
Two masked and cloaked horsemen promptly advanced, leveling their pistols at Sir Geoffrey's head.
"Stand and deliver!" commanded the taller of them, in deep, vibrant tones.
At the sound of that beloved voice, Prue, with a cry of joy, sprang out of the carriage, and rushing to Robin, who was already afoot, threw herself into his arms.