“But we are well mounted and well armed,” urged Culverhouse, “and if we wait for the men we shall lose the rest of the daylight.  Surely if there be any footpads about, the fact that we are followed by so goodly a train will serve to scare them away.  And we have no valuables upon our persons.  They will get cold steel and hot lead for their pains, an they venture to molest us, instead of silver or gold.”

“Very true,” said Philip, who was as eager as his cousin and endued with full share of Trevlyn courage and impetuosity; “we can never wait till those sluggards have come up.  The fault is not theirs:  they are not so well mounted as ourselves.  We shall never keep our horses to their pace, try we never so hard.”

“Forward then, and let us ride as fast as our steeds can carry us!” said Sir Richard with a smile; “for if we wait not for our men, the daylight is our best friend.  We are all familiar with the road, and our horses likewise.  Forward! and all eyes keep a sharp lookout to left and right.  At least we will not be set upon unawares.”

Putting spurs to their horses very gladly, the younger men placed themselves one on each side of Sir Richard, and the good horses settled themselves to a steady hand gallop, which was the best and surest pace for getting over those rough muddy roads.

Three miles had been safely traversed.  Absolute solitude and silence seemed to reign throughout the woodland tracks.  But the darkest of the forest still lay ahead of them, and the red ball of the sun had just dipped behind the ridge in front.

“It will be dark beneath the trees,” said Sir Richard; “have a care, lads, how you ride.

“Philip, thine eyes are better than mine.  Dost thou see aught there to the right of the road, just beneath that great oak?”

Philip had seen already, and his answer was quickly spoken.

“They be horsemen,” he said—­“horsemen drawn up and, as it were, awaiting us.  I fear me we shall not pass without molestation.  But my counsel is not to pause, rather to gallop still on steadily, as though we saw them not.  But let us be ready; and if they dare to molest us, let us with one accord discharge our pieces in their faces.  That will disconcert them for a moment, and we may perchance outride them.  We are but three miles and a half from Cross Way House.  I trow we can make shift to reach its friendly shelter; and once there we shall be safe.”

“It is useless to pause now,” answered Sir Richard, who was always cool and self possessed in moments of real peril.  “Our men are a mile behind, and to hesitate would be to lose all.  A bold front is our greatest safeguard.  We are all well skilled in the use of arms.  Be watchful and vigilant, and make you sure that every shot and every stroke will tell.  We have need of all our strength, if we are attacked.  But they may let us pass unmolested; they may guess that our followers are behind.”