"Draw your sword," answered the lady, "and pierce my bosom with it,

rather than I should fall into his hands!"

"I would rather by a thousand times," answered Wayland, "pass it through

his body, or even mine own. But to say truth, fighting is not my best

point, though I can look on cold iron like another when needs must be.

And indeed, as for my sword--(put on, I pray you)--it is a poor Provant

rapier, and I warrant you he has a special Toledo. He has a serving-man,

too, and I think it is the drunken ruffian Lambourne! upon the horse on

which men say--(I pray you heartily to put on)--he did the great robbery

of the west country grazier. It is not that I fear either Varney or

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Lambourne in a good cause--(your palfrey will go yet faster if you urge

him)--but yet--(nay, I pray you let him not break off into a gallop,

lest they should see we fear them, and give chase--keep him only at the

full trot)--but yet, though I fear them not, I would we were well rid

of them, and that rather by policy than by violence. Could we once reach

the party before us, we may herd among them, and pass unobserved, unless

Varney be really come in express pursuit of us, and then, happy man be

his dole!"

While he thus spoke, he alternately urged and restrained his horse,

desirous to maintain the fleetest pace that was consistent with the

idea of an ordinary journey on the road, but to avoid such rapidity of

movement as might give rise to suspicion that they were flying.

At such a pace they ascended the gentle hill we have mentioned, and

looking from the top, had the pleasure to see that the party which had

left Donnington before them were in the little valley or bottom on the

other side, where the road was traversed by a rivulet, beside which was

a cottage or two. In this place they seemed to have made a pause, which

gave Wayland the hope of joining them, and becoming a part of their

company, ere Varney should overtake them. He was the more anxious, as

his companion, though she made no complaints, and expressed no fear,

began to look so deadly pale that he was afraid she might drop from her

horse. Notwithstanding this symptom of decaying strength, she pushed on

her palfrey so briskly that they joined the party in the bottom of the

valley ere Varney appeared on the top of the gentle eminence which they

had descended.




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