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But I see: it is all through the words of this beardless boy. Suppose I tell you that, now I have come, I mean to stay?" he added threateningly. "Shall I get the men together, father?" said Ralph quickly. "No, boy, there is no need," said Sir Morton firmly. "I am not afraid of Michael Purlrose's threats." "What!" cried the man. "You do not know me yet."
The men were some distance behind, and they had ceased to trouble about them, when, to Mark's consternation, on passing round one of the curves in the track, he found that there in front the narrowest part was blocked by the horses with their loads; and a something in the aspect of the party of men in charge of the laden beasts slightly startled him, for he thought them suspiciously like some of Purlrose's followers.
"Nothing now; only I don't quite like the look of the men behind." "Not robbers, are they?" "Oh no, I think not; only we hear so much about Captain Purlrose's men, it sets one thinking that every man one sees is a marauder. But it would not matter if they were; we could soon leave them behind."
His call was responded to directly by Dan Rugg and his son, both standing aghast for a few moments before energetically setting to work to help their friends, who, saving the two who had guarded the entrance, were wounded to a man, while of Captain Purlrose's party, four and their leader were dead, the others lying disabled to wait their turn of help from their captors, who, now that the rage of battle was at an end, were ready to show mercy to their wounded foes.
But they had not taken half-a-dozen paces toward the block, seen dimly against the starless sky, when there was a sharp chink, and a familiar voice cried: "Who goes there?" "`Allies," said Ralph promptly. "Halt!" cried the leader. "Advance!" came back; and directly after, the two lads were face to face, comparing notes. "Began to think you were Purlrose's men," whispered Mark.
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