One or two of the men, of whom there appeared to be five at least, now proposed to search the women.

There was a moment’s pause, during which Wild Jack tightened his grasp on Betty’s arm.  Had she shown one symptom of fear, it is possible that his fierce profession would have triumphed over the infatuation of her beauty, but the look she turned upon him was so full of confidence, such absolute trust in his honour, that it prevailed.

He swore that he made no war upon women, and ordered back his disappointed followers, allowing them to divide the trumpery booty they had secured, of watches, trinkets, and the parson’s purse, which was not empty.

They stood back.  Wild Jack spoke to them in a low tone, looking, as he did so, several times up at the sky as if to see how the time went; then advancing he opened the door of the coach, and unbinding the hands of the two ladies, offered to hand them in.

Betty demurred.  “We have duties here first,” she said, pointing to the inanimate form of poor Samuel Barnes.

“It is well then,” said Wild Jack, just touching the prostrate man with the toe of his boot.  “We will leave you now, with many apologies, madam, for our intrusion.”

The others were already in the saddle and almost out of sight.

Wild Jack, who was about to mount, withdrew his foot from the stirrup and approached Betty once more.

“Go, go!” she said.  “This poor man bleeds; ah, why do you not go?”

“I am gone,” he answered.  “But first, fair lady, in consideration of the booty I have resigned I demand a reward.”

“What can I give you?”

He pointed to her hand, on one finger of which was a small gold ring in the form of a serpent with tiny ruby eyes.

“Give me that,” he said somewhat imperiously.

“You are welcome,” she said haughtily, and she drew the ring from her finger.  “I would give a trinket of more value,” she cried, stamping her little foot, “to be freed from your company now!”

The words stung him.

“You will remember those words, madam,” he said, “some day—­when this ring returns to your keeping.”

He shut the lantern, which during all this time had thrown its yellow light on the strange scene, mounted his horse and disappeared.  The horse was snow white, and it passed by like a white gleam in the darkness.

It was pitch dark now, and the horror of their situation was increased by the moans which Mr. Barnes began to utter as consciousness slowly returned.

It was a relief to all when the familiar sound of flint and steel smote the ear, and the coachman awkwardly, with his bound hands, attempted to light the lamps of the coach.  Betty’s first business was to unfasten the ropes which bound the men hand and foot, and by degrees they were able to take in their exact position.

One of the leaders had been shot dead, the traces had been cut, but the frightened horses had not strayed out of reach.