THE HIGHWAYMAN AND HIS PREY 113 



Quaker, who had by this time finished his repast, 

 passed out hurriedly and disappeared down the road. 



The boisterous traveller continued his conversation 

 for a while with the landlord, and then, re-entering 

 his post-chaise, bade the postboy drive fast, and 

 holloa when a suspicious person approached. He 

 threw himself upon the seat after he had closed the 

 door, stretched his legs as wide as possible, and, plant- 

 ing his feet firmly, cocked his pistols, holding them at 

 arm's length with their barrels resting on the open 

 windows. 



The horses went on for about a mile, when the 

 chaise entered upon a heath — a very desolate-looking 

 place, with never a house visible in any direction : 

 with nothing, indeed, to enliven the perspective save 

 a gallows, if such an object, with a rattling skeleton 

 svvino;ino- in chains from the cross-beam, can be so 

 considered. The traveller gazed with a grim satis- 

 faction at this spectacle, for it seemed to him, as to 

 the shipwrecked sailor in the old story — an earnest 

 of civilization. 



But while he was musing on the louo- arm of the 

 law, the rapid sounds of horse's hoofs, sounding over 

 the ragged turf of the heath, were heard, and a voice 

 was presently raised, commanding the postboy to 

 stop. The chaise was stopped suddenly, with a jolt 

 and a crash, and a face, black-masked, mysterious, 

 horrible, appeared at the window, together with the 

 still more alarming apparition of the grinning muzzle 

 of a horse-pistol. Then followed the inevitable, "Your 

 money or your life ! " 



The traveller had liis weapons ready. Raising the 



I 



