must have rolled ever eastward, and the day, by consequence, gone sore
against Sir Daniel and the lords of the dark rose.

But presently the little troop began again to move forward, and came next
to a very open, heathy portion of the way, where but a single tongue of
forest ran down to join the road. They were but just abreast of this,
when an arrow shone flying. One of the men threw up his arms, his horse
reared, and both fell and struggled together in a mass. Even from where
the boys lay they could hear the rumour of the men's voices crying out;
they could see the startled horses prancing, and, presently, as the troop
began to recover from their first surprise, one fellow beginning to
dismount. A second arrow from somewhat farther off glanced in a wide
arch; a second rider bit the dust. The man who was dismounting lost hold
upon the rein, and his horse fled galloping, and dragged him by the foot
along the road, bumping from stone to stone, and battered by the fleeing
hoofs. The four who still kept the saddle instantly broke and scattered;
one wheeled and rode, shrieking, towards the ferry; the other three, with
loose rein and flying raiment, came galloping up the road from Tunstall.
From every clump they passed an arrow sped. Soon a horse fell, but the
rider found his feet and continued to pursue his comrades till a second
shot despatched him. Another man fell; then another horse; out of the
whole troop there was but one fellow left, and he on foot; only, in
different directions, the noise of the galloping of three riderless
horses was dying fast into the distance.

All this time not one of the assailants had for a moment shown himself.
Here and there along the path, horse or man rolled, undespatched, in his
agony; but no merciful enemy broke cover to put them from their pain.

The solitary survivor stood bewildered in the road beside his fallen
charger. He had come the length of that broad glade, with the island of
timber, pointed out by Dick. He was not, perhaps, five hundred yards
from where the boys lay hidden; and they could see him plainly, looking
to and fro in deadly expectation. But nothing came; and the man began to
pluck up his courage, and suddenly unslung and bent his bow. At the same
time, by something in his action, Dick recognised Selden.

At this offer of resistance, from all about him in the covert of the
woods there went up the sound of laughter. A score of men, at least, for
this wa