Prev | Current Page 396 | Next

Brebner, Percy James, 1864-1922

"The Brown Mask"


The highwayman checked his horse to a walking pace when he came to this
dip, and went slowly down, and slowly climbed the opposite ascent. He
patted the mare's neck, and spoke to her in whispers.
"Well done, my beauty! Unless all the fates are against us we have got
in front of the coach. The glory is yours. I know no other that could
have carried me as you have done to-night. We shall win, lass, and then
you shall take life easier."
The mare seemed to understand as she climbed out of the hollow and
appeared ready to gallop on again; but her rider drew her on the
greensward beside the road, just beyond the wood, and dismounted. He had
no doubt that the coach was behind him. He had come by short cuts across
country, along bridle-paths which shortened the journey. He had not
struck the road long before he met the traveller going towards
Dorchester who said that no coach had passed him. He leaned against the
trunk of a tree, which years ago had been struck and killed by
lightning, and his thoughts were busy as he looked to the priming of his
pistols and made sure that certain papers he carried were secure in a
leathern case, which he slipped back into the pocket of his ample, caped
coat.


Pages:
384 385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408