While we were at breakfast, Betty endeavoured, by all the cunning she was mistress of, to learn whether or no we suspected our fellow-lodger, whom we saw take horse; but, as we were on our guard, we answered her sly questions with a simplicity she could not distrust; when, all of a sudden, we heard the trampling of a horse’s feet at the door. This noise alarmed Strap so much, whose imagination was wholly engrossed by the image of Rifle, that, with a countenance as pale as milk, he cried, “O Lord! there is the highwayman returned!”
Our landlady, staring at these words, said, “What highwayman, young man? Do you think any highwaymen harbour here?”
Though I was very much disconcerted at this piece of indiscretion in Strap, I had presence of mind enough to tell her we had met a horseman the day before, whom Strap had foolishly supposed to be a highwayman, because he rode with pistols; and that he had been terrified at the sound of a horse’s feet ever since.
She forced a smile at the ignorance and timidity of my comrade; but I could perceive, not without great concern, that this account was not at all satisfactory to her.
CHAPTER IX
We proceed on our Journey—are overtaken by a Highwayman who fires at Strap—is prevented from shooting me by a Company of Horsemen, who ride in pursuit of him—Strap is put to Bed at an Inn—Adventures at that Inn
After having paid our score and taken leave of our hostess, who embraced me tenderly at parting, we proceeded on our journey, blessing ourselves that we had come off so well. We had not walked above five miles, when we observed a man on horseback galloping after us, whom we in a short time recognised to be no other than this formidable hero who had already given us so much vexation. He stopped hard by me, and asked if I knew who he was? My astonishment had disconcerted me so much that I did not hear his question, which he repeated with a volley of oaths and threats; but I remained as mute as before.
Strap, seeing my discomposure, fell upon his knees in the mud, uttering, with a lamentable voice, these words: “For Christ’s sake, have mercy upon us, Mr. Rifle! we know you very well.” “Oho!” cried the thief, “you do! But you never shall be evidence against me in this world, you dog!” So saying, he drew a pistol, and fired it at the unfortunate shaver, who fell flat upon the ground without speaking one word.
My comrade’s fate and my own situation riveted me to the place where I stood, deprived of all sense and reflection; so that I did not make the least attempt either to run away or deprecate the wrath of this barbarian, who snapped a second pistol at me; but, before he had time to prime again, perceiving a company of horsemen coming up, he rode off, and left me standing motionless as a statue, in which posture I was found by those whose appearance had saved my life. This company consisted of three men in livery, well armed, with an officer, who (as I afterwards learned,) was the person from whom Rifle had taken the pocket pistols the day before; and who, making known his misfortune to a nobleman he met on the road, and assuring him his non-resistance was altogether owing to his consideration for the ladies in the coach, procured the assistance of his lordship’s servants to go in quest of the plunderer. This holiday captain scampered up to me with great address, and asked who fired the pistol which he had heard.
As I had not yet recovered my reason, he, before I could answer, observed a body lying on the ground, at which sight his colour changed, and he pronounced, with a faltering tongue, “Gentlemen, here’s murder committed! Let us alight.” “No, no,” said one of his followers, “let us rather pursue the murderer. Which way went he, young man?”