a few desperately wounded behind them; and, flying along the intricate
ruins of the priory, baffled all pursuit, wherever it was attempted.
Jerry Juniper was the last in the retreat; but, upon receiving a hint
from Dick, he vaulted like a roe over the heads of his adversaries, and
made good his escape. Turpin alone remained. He stood like a lion at
bay, quietly regarding the huntsmen hurtling around him. Ranulph
Rookwood rode up and bade him surrender.

"Detain me not," cried he, in a voice of thunder. "If you would save her
who is dear to you, descend into that vault. Off, I say."

And Turpin shook away, with ease, the grasp that Ranulph had laid upon
him.

"Villain! you do not escape me this time," said Major Mowbray,
interposing himself between Turpin and the outlet.

"Major Mowbray, I would not have your blood upon my head," said Dick.
"Let me pass," and he levelled a pistol.

"Fire, if you dare!" said the major, raising his sword. "You pass not. I
will die rather than allow you to escape. Barricade the door. Strike him
down if he attempts to pass. Richard Turpin, I arrest you in the king's
name. You hear, my lads, in his majesty's name. I command you to assist
me in this highwayman's capture. Two hundred pounds for his head."

"Two hundred devils!" exclaimed Dick, with a laugh of disdain. "Go, seek
your mother and sister within yon vault, Major Mowbray; you will find
employment enough there."

Saying which, he suddenly forced Bess to back a few yards; then,
striking his heels sharply into her sides, ere his purpose could be
divined by the spectators, charged, and cleared the lower part of the
mouldering priory walls. This feat was apparently accomplished with no
great effort by his admirable and unequalled mare.

"By the powers!" cried Titus, "and he's given us the slip after all. And
just when we thought to make sure of him, too. Why, Mr. Coates, that
wall must be higher than a five-barred gate, or any stone wall in my own
country. It's just the most extraordinary lepp I ever set eyes on!"

"The devil's in the fellow, certainly, or in his mare," returned Coates;
"but if he escapes me, I'll forgive him. I know whither he's bound. He's
off to London with my bill of exchange. I'll be up with him. I'll track
him like a bloodhound, slowly and surely, as my father, the thief-taker,
used to follow up a scent. Recollect the hare and the tortoise. The race
is not always to the swift. What say you? 'Tis a match fo