Mr.
Mat Harding.

Squire Thornton was glad to meet with friends so rarely encountered;
they had secrets together mayhap. They saluted each other cordially,
their greeting of Sir Harry Clare was more cold.

It was a gloomy windy day, and after the midday halt to bait their
horses, the weather grew worse, a cold violent wind blew in their faces,
now and then a driving shower of rain.

"Are you tired, Mistress Betty?" asked the squire.

"No, no, I enjoy the free fresh air, it gives me new life."

"That is well," he said, riding on well pleased.

The two cavaliers who attended Betty on each side were the new arrivals,
both of whom appeared much struck by her exceeding beauty.

Now it seemed almost as if they entered into a cloud, so dark it became,
so blinded were they by wind and a fresh storm of cold fine rain. The
horses grew subdued, they whinnied and held down their tails tightly. It
was very cold.

They moved into a short trot, but pulled up soon, breathless.

The rain ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and now Betty became aware
of some tall dark object looming in front of her, only as yet half
visible. The wind howled past, and distinctly she heard a sort of
clanking noise, as of chains or the rattling of something hard clanking
together.

"Let us ride on, let us ride fast." cried Squire Thornton in his loud
hearty voice. As he spoke there was a whirr of loud wings, and a dark
cloud of foul birds rose into the air from off that dark thing.

Betty put out her hand and laid it on Sir James Templemore's arm.

"What is it?" she said in a ghastly whisper.

"Ah, a sad sight indeed," said he sadly. "There hangs as noble a
gentleman as ever drew sword for the king, God bless him."

"Who is it?" she asked again; the whisper came hissing forth.

"Who? God rest his soul, he had many names. He was Wild Jack Barnstaple,
alias John Johnstone of Belton, alias Daredevil Jack of the North."

"For the sake of all that is sacred, hold your tongue!" shouted the
squire, who had caught the last words.

He was too late. With a wild hoarse cry that none who heard it ever
forgot, Betty flung wide her arms, and fell back on her saddle. The
terrified horse galloped furiously forward, throwing her from side to
side, then violently to the ground at the foot of the gallows.

In horror the gentlemen surrounded her, and raised her inanimate form
between them.

But it was long and very late before they could get her home.