o the hedge, and, peering over, was relieved of my
last doubt: for at the tail of the procession and under charge of one
drunken trooper for whipper-in, rode all my poor comrades with arms
triced behind them and ankles lamentably looped under their horses'
bellies.

Even as they passed a thought came into my head: and the face of the
whipper-in--seen dimly in the shadow of a lantern he joggled at his
saddle-bow--decided me. I slipped off my sash, looped it loosely in
my hand, and so, without waiting to say farewell to my host, slid
down the bank into the lane.

Though I shot over the frozen bank a deal faster than ever I intended
and dropped on the roadway with a thud, the trooper, bawling his
chorus, did not turn in his saddle. I tip-toed after him, between a
walk and a run, and still he did not turn. Not till I was level with
his stirrup did he guess that I was on him; and even so he could
scarcely roar out a curse before I had my sash flung over him and
with a jerk fetched him clean out of his saddle. As he pitched
sideways, the lantern fell with a clatter and rolled into the hedge.

'What the devil's up with you, back there!' At the noise, I heard
two or three of the midmost troopers rein up.

'Right! All right!' I called forward to them, catching the horse's
bridle and at the same time stooping over the poor fool--to gag him,
if need were. He lay as he had fallen. I hope I have not his death
to my account, and for certain no corpse lay in the road when I
passed along it a few hours later.

'Right!' I called sturdily, deepening my voice to imitate that of my
victim as nearly as I could match it--

'Crop-headed Puritans, tow-row-row!'

Still shouting the chorus, I mastered the reluctant horse, swung
myself into saddle, and edged up towards my comrades.

'Carey! Shackell!' I called softly, overtaking them.

At the sound of my voice, they came near to letting out a cry that
had spoilt all. Masters, indeed, started a yell: but Small Owens
(whose bands I had fortunately cut the first) reached out a hand and
clapped it over his mouth.

'How many be they?' I asked as we rode.

'Twenty-two,' answered Randles, chafing his wrists, 'and all drunk as
lords.'

'If we had arms,' said Carey, 'we might drive the whole lot.'

'But since you have not,' said I, 'we must pitch our attempt lower.
In three minutes we shall reach the high-road; and then strike spurs
all to the right for Farnham!'

But our