"Not always," said another man. "Galloping Hermit was feared on all the
roads before I had stopped my first coach, and he is still feared
to-day." The speaker was young, and he mentioned the name of the
notorious highwayman with a kind of reverence.
"They say he's the devil himself, and that's why he's never been taken,"
said another. "Did any of you ever see him?"
"Once." And they all turned quickly towards the man who spoke. "My mare
had gone lame, and I had dismounted in a copse to examine her, when
there was the quick, regular beat of hoofs at a gallop across the turf.
I was alert on my own account in a moment, crouching down amongst the
undergrowth, for with a lame animal I could have made but a poor show.
There flashed past me a splendid horseman, man and beast one perfect
piece of harmony. The moon was near the full. I saw the neat, strong
lines of the horse, the easy movement of the rider, and I could see that
the mask which the man wore was brown. This happened two years ago, out
beyond Barnet."
"And without that brown mask no one knows him." said the man who had
first spoken of him. "He has been met on all the roads, north, south,
east and west--never in company, always alone.
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