he traveller
compelled him to desist; but his curiosity, without any farther effort,
was not long ungratified; for the stranger soon opened it before him, as
it seemed, to take out some articles which were necessary for his use at
night; and displayed in the process several large bags--larger almost
than the machine would have seemed able to contain--which were evidently
full of gold or silver money. The cupidity of Conrad was excited by this
view, and he would gladly have at once secured the prize even at the
hazard of a personal struggle with the stranger; but the people of the
inn (according to his account afterwards) were such as would have
expected a portion of the spoil. For this reason, although unwillingly,
and trusting himself to sleep little, lest by any chance the prey should
escape him, he abandoned his design of robbery, for that night; and on
the next morning, having learned which way the stranger travelled--for
the latter exhibited no suspicions or apprehension of those about him,
but spoke freely of his intended road, though he never mentioned
anything of the charge he carried--having ascertained this fact, he
allowed the rider to depart, and after a short time, followed by a
shorter track through the forest, which was practicable only to persons
on foot, and which would enable him, had he even started later, easily
to overtake the mounted traveller. Now, knowing that his nearer road
saved, as has been noticed, full a league of ground, the "Woodsman"
moved on slowly; and accounted that, when he reached the point at which
they were to meet, he should still have some time to wait for the
stranger: on emerging, however, into the high road, he found him to his
surprise _already_ approaching; and, what was still more extraordinary,
mounted upon a _black_ horse, when that on which he had left the inn,
had certainly seemed to be a brown. The portmanteau, however, which was
all that Conrad looked to, was still behind the traveller, and on he
came riding as if nothing at all was the matter: the "Woodsman" never
hung back, or staid reflecting, but levelled his rifle, and called upon
him to "Stand and deliver," or his next moment was his last. The
traveller upon this pulled up his horse with an air of great coolness;
and, looking upon Conrad, said something, which, as the robber since
says, he verily believes was--"That he hoped he had not kept him
_waiting_!"--or words to that purpose; but he was too busy at the tim