s anything but indifferently mounted. Apprehensive
of pursuit, Luke expedited the sexton's ascent; and that accomplished,
without bestowing further regard upon the object of his solicitude, he
resumed his headlong flight. He now thought it necessary to bestow more
attention on his choice of road, and, perfectly acquainted with the
heath, avoided all unnecessary hazardous passes. In spite of his
knowledge of the ground, and the excellence of his horse, the stranger
sensibly gained upon him. The danger, however, was no longer imminent.

"We are safe," cried Luke; "the limits of Hardchase are past. In a few
seconds we shall enter Davenham Wood. I will turn the horse loose, and
we will betake ourselves to flight amongst the trees. I will show you a
place of concealment. He cannot follow us on horseback, and on foot I
defy him."

"Stay," cried the sexton. "He is not in pursuit--he takes another
course--he wheels to the right. By Heaven! it is the Fiend himself upon
a black horse, come for Bow-legged Ben. See, he is there already."

The horseman had turned, as the sexton stated, careering towards a
revolting object at some little distance on the right hand. It was a
gibbet, with its grisly burden. He rode swiftly towards it, and, reining
in his horse, took off his hat, bowing profoundly to the carcase that
swung in the morning breeze. Just at that moment a gust of air catching
the fleshless skeleton, its arms seemed to be waved in reply to the
salutation. A solitary crow winged its flight over the horseman's head
as he paused. After a moment's halt, he wheeled about, and again shouted
to Luke, waving his hat.

"As I live," said the latter, "it is Jack Palmer."

"Dick Turpin, you mean," rejoined the sexton. "He has been paying his
respects to a brother blade. Ha, ha! Dick will never have the honor of a
gibbet; he is too tender of the knife. Did you mark the crow? But here
he comes." And in another instant Turpin was by their side.

_CHAPTER II_

_A GIPSY ENCAMPMENT_

I see a column of slow-rising smoke
O'ertop the lofty wood, that skirts the wild.

COWPER: _The Task_.

"The top of the morning to you, gem'men," said Turpin, as he rode up at
an easy canter. "Did you not hear my halloo? I caught a glimpse of you
on the hill yonder. I knew you both, two miles off; and so, having a
word or two to say to you, Luke Bradley, before I leave this part of the