“Dash in, and finish him,” shouted the man who appeared the leader of the assailants, and three of them rushed together at the traveller.  The leader fell back cursing, with a sword thrust through his shoulder, just at the moment when Rupert sent the sword of the man who was attacking him flying through the air, and turning at once, engaged one of the two remaining assailants of the traveller.  But these had had enough of it; and as the lackeys came running up, they turned, and rushed away into the darkness.  The lackeys at Rupert’s order discharged their pistols after them; but a moment later the sound of four horses making off at full gallop, showed that they had escaped.

“By my faith,” the traveller said, turning to Rupert, and holding out his hand, “no knight errant ever arrived more opportunely.  You are a gallant gentleman, sir; permit me to ask to whom I am so indebted?”

“My name is Rupert Holliday, sir,” the lad said, as the stranger shook his hand warmly, and who, as the lackey approached with the torch, exclaimed: 

“Why, by the king’s head, you are but a stripling, and you have run one of these fellows through the body, and disarmed the other, as neatly as I ever saw it done in the schools.  Why, young sir, if you go on like this you will be a very Paladin.”

“I have had good masters, sir,” Rupert said, modestly; “and having been taught to use my sword, there is little merit in trouncing such rascals as these.”

“By my faith, but there is though,” the stranger said.  “It is one thing to fence in a school with buttoned foils, another to bear oneself as calmly and as well as you did.  But here are your friends, or I mistake not.”

The coach came lumbering up, at a speed which for coaches in those days was wonderful, and as it stopped Colonel Holliday leapt out, sword in hand.

“Is it all over?” he exclaimed.  “Is Rupert hurt?”

“It is all over, sir; and I have not so much as a scratch,” Rupert said.

“Sir,” the stranger said, uncovering, and making a courtly bow to the old cavalier, and to Mistress Dorothy, who was looking from the open door, “your son—­”

“My grandson,” the colonel, who had also uncovered, corrected.

“Your grandson arrived in time to save me from grievous peril.  My coachman and lackey were shot at the first fire, and I fancy one of the horses.  I disposed of one of the rascals, but four others pressed me hard, while a fifth held a light to them.  Your grandson ran one through in fair fight, and disarmed another; I disabled a third, and they ran.  I have to thank him for my life; and, if you will permit me to say so—­and I have been many frays—­no man ever bore himself more coolly, or used his sword more skilfully, than did this young gentleman.”

“I am very proud indeed to hear that the lad bore himself so well; although I own that he caused some anxiety to his mother and myself; by rushing forward alone to join in a fray of whose extent he knew nothing.  However, all is well that ends well.