Two men, followed more leisurely by three others, had sprung into the roadway from behind a pile of rocks where they had been in hiding. They were men of wild and savage appearance, and bore weapons, which added not a little to their threatening looks. One man, whose head seemed a sheer mass of bristling red hair and beard, out of which his eyes gleamed like live coals, carried a heavy club studded with iron spikes, and this he swung to and fro as he awaited the coming of the wayfarers.
"'Tis Red of Ordish!" whispered the lad. "He is known and dreaded for leagues around. Fly for thy life, Matthew--delay not!"
The soldier glanced eagerly to right and left. His face fell: rocks piled in rough confusion, half-hidden by bushes, lined every inch of the way on either side. It was difficult country to traverse on foot, but for horsemen it was quite impossible. There was still, however, the way they had come, and half-turning his horse, the man-at-arms glanced back along the road. Alas, for his hopes! Another group of men had emerged into the roadway a few hundred yards behind, and were moving forward to take the travellers as in a trap!
"Ha, ha, soldier," cried Red, with a hideous laugh, "thou seest thou art outwitted! Fling down thy purse and we harm thee not. 'Tis the lord of the manor, Red of Ordish to wit, who bids thee pay his toll."
"Give me thy purse, Matthew," cried the boy aloud. He then went on in an urgent whisper: "Be quick, and I will jump down and hand it to the robbers whilst thou dost ride slowly past them. They may seek more than thy purse an they find little in it. I like not their looks or the tales I have heard of them."
Slowly and unwillingly the soldier complied, and the lad flung his leg over the saddle to dismount. As he did so, however, with a quick movement he slid the contents of the purse into his hand. His movements were half-hidden by the soldier's back, and that there should be no chink of money to betray him, he held the purse closely while he secured the contents. Then he transferred the coins to his wallet, dropped to the ground, and advanced towards the red robber, purse in hand.
"We are poor wayfarers," he said in a pleading tone, as he fumbled in the purse; "will ye not take toll of two silver pennies and let us hie on our journey?"
"I will take four silver pennies, my young springald," cried Red of Ordish, striding forward and reaching out his great hand for the purse.
The lad retreated as though frightened, and again fumbled as though unable to find the coins he sought.
"Yield me the purse," cried the robber, snatching savagely at it. "Yield it me, boy, or I will clash out thy brains with this club."