Captain Purlrose and his merry men had found a place just to their
liking, where they lived like pigs in a hole of the earth, and as
voraciously. He chuckled and crowed as they ate and drank, and waited
till their stock of provisions began to grow low, and then started off
upon a fresh expedition, to gather tribute, as he called it. He did not
expose himself to any risks, but kept his ascendancy over his men by
sheer cunning and ability in making his plans, leading them to where
they could come quite unexpectedly upon some lonely cottage or
farmhouse, ill-use and frighten the occupants nearly to death, adding
insult to injury by loading the spoil of provisions, or whatever it
pleased them to take, on the farmer's horses, leading them away, and
after unloading them at the cave, setting them adrift.
The captain laughed at all threats, for he felt that no one would dare
to follow him to his stronghold; and if an attack were made, he knew
that he could easily beat it off. The only two people near who were at
all likely to trouble him were his old captain, Sir Morton Darley, and
Sir Edward Eden.
"And they'll talk about it, and and threats, and never come."
He seemed to be right, for as report after report of raids being made,
here and there in the neighbourhood of the two strongholds reached their
owners, Sir Morton Darley would vow vengeance against the marauders, and
then go back to his books; and Sir Edward Eden would utter a vow that he
would hang Captain Purlrose from the machicolations over the gateway at
the Black Tor, and then he would go into his mining accounts, and hear
the reports of his foreman, Dan Rugg, about how many pigs there were in
the sty--that is to say, pigs of lead in the stone crypt-like place
where they were stored.
And so time went on, both knights having to listen to a good many
upbraidings from Master Rayburn, who visited and scolded them well for
not combining and routing out the gang from their hole.
"I wish you would not worry me, Rayburn," said Sir Morton one day, in
Ralph's presence. "I don't want to engage upon an expedition which must
end in bloodshed. I want to be at peace, with my books."
"But don't you see that bloodshed is going on, and that these ruffians
are making the place a desert?"
"Yes," said Sir Morton, "it is very tiresome. I almost wish I had taken
them into my service."
"And made matters worse, for they would not have rested till you had
made war upon the Edens."
"Yes," said Sir Morton, "I suppose it would have been so."
"Why not get the men quietly together some night, father, and if I went
round, I'm sure I could collect a dozen who would come and help--men
whose places have been robbed."
"That's right, Ralph; there are people as much as twenty miles away--
twelve men? Five-and-twenty, I'll be bound."
"Well, I'll think about it," said Sir Morton; and when Master Rayburn
walked home that day, Ralph bore him company part of the way, and
chatted the matter over with him.
"I'm getting ashamed of your father, Ralph, lad. He has plenty of
weapons of war, and he could arm a strong party, and yet he does
nothing."
"I wish he would," said the lad. "I don't like the idea of fighting,
but I should like to see those rascals taken."
"But you will not until your father is stirred up by their coming and
making an attack upon your place."
"Oh, they would not dare to do that," cried Ralph.
"What! why, they are growing more daring day by day; and mark my words,
sooner or later they'll make a dash at the Castle, and plunder the
place."
"Oh!" ejaculated Ralph, as he thought of his sister.
"I wish they would," cried the old man angrily, "for I am sick of seeing
such a state of things in our beautiful vales. No one is safe. It was
bad enough before, with the petty contemptible jealousies of your two
families, and the fightings between your men. But that was peace
compared to what is going on now."
"Don't talk like that, Master Rayburn," said Ralph warmly. "I don't
like you to allude to my father as you do."
"I must speak the truth, boy," said the old man. "You feel it now; but
some day, when you are a man grown, and your old friend has gone to
sleep, and is lying under the flowers and herbs and trees that he loved
in life, you will often think of his words, and that he was right."
Ralph was silent.
"I am not a man of war, my boy, but a man of peace. All the same,
though, whenever either your father or young Mark Eden's arms his men to
drive these ruffians out of our land, I am going to gird on my old
sword, which is as bright and sharp as ever, to strike a blow for the
women and children. Yes, for pretty Minnie Darley, and Mary Eden too.
For I love 'em both, boy, and have ever since they were bairns."
Ralph went back home to Cliff Castle, thinking very deeply about the old
man's words, and wishing--and planning in a vague way--that he and Mark
Eden could be friendly enough to act in some way together without the
help or knowledge of their fathers, and make an attack upon these men,
so as to put an end to a state of things which kept all women-kind
prisoners in their homes, and the men in a state of suspense as to when
next they should be attacked and plundered of all they had.
It was only natural that Master Rayburn should talk in an almost similar
way to Mark Eden and his father, but only for Sir Edward to promise and
not perform. And one day the old man actually took Ralph's idea, and
said suddenly to Mark:
"Look here, young fellow, why don't you take the bit in your teeth,
collect your men quietly, get Ralph Darley to do the same, and you boys
go together and thrash those ruffians out, kill them, or take them
prisoners. Old as I am, I'll come and help."
"Yes, why not?" cried Mark eagerly. "No," he said directly; "the
Darleys would not and could not join us even if I were willing; and I'm
not."
Old Master Rayburn's words went deeper into the breasts of the two lads
than they knew. Their natures were in those early days rather like
tinder, and in his angry flint and steely way, the old man had struck a
spark into each, which lay there latent, waiting to be blown into a hot
glow; and who should perform that office but Captain Purlrose himself?
It was in this way. One bright morning, Sir Edward was examining a
young partly-broken horse that had been reared in the pastures across
the river, and expressed himself delighted with its appearance.
"What do you say to it, Mark?" he cried. "Not strong enough to carry
me, but I should think it would suit Mary exactly."
"Couldn't be better, father," said the lad, though he felt a little
disappointed, for he half expected that his father would have given it
to him.
"Call her, then, and she shall try it. And by the way, Mark, there is
that other--that chestnut--which will do for you."
The lad flushed with pleasure, for he had fully believed that his father
intended the handsome, strongly made chestnut for his own use. Mary
Eden was fetched, came out, and tried the gentle, slightly-built
palfrey, and the chestnut was brought too, proving everything that could
be desired.
"There!" said Sir Edward, after their paces had been tried in one of the
meadows; "now you are both better mounted than any young people in the
Midlands, so go and have a good round together, and get back well before
dark. Don't distress the horses, and go right away, and make a round to
the west, so as not to go near Ergles. Not that the scoundrels would
dare to attack you."
Ten minutes after, brother and sister were riding slowly along the track
on the other side of the river, Mary enjoying the change after being
shut up for some weeks; and in consequence, the round was extended to a
greater distance than the pair had intended. It was getting toward
dark, and they were approaching one of the narrow ravines through which
the river ran, one which hardly gave room for the horse track as well,
when Mary said merrily:
"You must take the blame, Mark, for we shall not be home by dusk."
"Oh yes, we shall," he replied. "Once we are through these rocks, we'll
cut right across country, and--who are those people in front?"
"Carriers, with pack horses and donkeys," said his sister; "and they
have heavy loads too."
Mark looked long and hard at the party, which was partly hidden by the
trees, and then agreed with his sister.
"Yes," he said; "the horses are loaded with sacks of corn seemingly."
The people with their stores of provender were some distance ahead, and
Mark thought no more of them, for, soon after, his attention was taken
up by a group of men behind them a few hundred yards, walking, and
coming on hurriedly, as if to overtake them.
"Let's ride on faster, Mary," he said rather quickly.
"Why? What is the matter?"
"Nothing now; only I don't quite like the look of the men behind."
"Not robbers, are they?"
"Oh no, I think not; only we hear so much about Captain Purlrose's men,
it sets one thinking that every man one sees is a marauder. But it
would not matter if they were; we could soon leave them behind."
They rode on, entering the straits, as the place was called from the
river contracting, as it did in several other places, and running
between two upright walls of rock. The men were some distance behind,
and they had ceased to trouble about them, when, to Mark's
consternation, on passing round one of the curves in the track, he found
that there in front the narrowest part was blocked by the horses with
their loads; and a something in the aspect of the party of men in charge
of the laden beasts slightly startled him, for he thought them
suspiciously like some of Purlrose's followers.
The next minute he was awake to the fact that they were in danger, for
from behind a block of stone a slight figure, whose hands were bound
with cords, and who made Mark stare, suddenly started to his side,
shouting:
"Ride for it! ride! You are in a trap."
There was no time for hesitation. Two men dashed after the prisoner
they had made, and in another instant they would have had him, but for
Mark's quick movement. He caught his sister's rein, touched his horse's
side with the spurs, and the two active animals sprang between the men
and their quarry as they were sharply turned.
"Lay hold of my nag's mane, Darley," he shouted to the prisoner, who
held up his bound hands, and caught at the dense mass of hair,
succeeding in holding on, while Mark now drew his sword.
"Oh Mark!" cried his sister, "is there any danger?"
"Not if you sit fast," he cried.--"Can you keep up if we canter?"
"Try," said the prisoner excitedly. "If not, go on, and save
yourselves."
The horses broke into a sharp canter, keeping well together, as the men
they had seen following them with drawn swords, and joined up across the
narrow way, shouted to them to stop.
Mark's reply to this was a yell of defiance.
"Sit fast, Mary," he cried. "They must go down before your horse."
The girl made no answer, but crouched lower in her saddle, as they rode
on, Mark in his excitement pressing home his spurs, and causing his
horse to make a frantic leap. But there was no collision; the men
leaped off to right and left to avoid the charge, and the next moment
they were behind.
"Well done!" cried Mark excitedly. "Well done, six! Ah!--Here, canter
on, Mary. I'll soon overtake you."
He checked and turned his own steed, to dash back, for he had suddenly
found that the bound given when he used his spurs was too much for Ralph
Darley's hold on the mane, and he had turned, to see the lad lying in
the track with the men about to seize him and drag him away.
Without a moment's hesitation, Mark charged at the enemy again, and as
they fled he chased them, sword in hand, for some little distance before
once more turning to rejoin Ralph, who had struggled to his feet, ready
to cling once more to the horse's mane, a task made more easy by Mark
cutting through the bonds with his sword.
Mary was waiting a little farther back, and the trio had to go back some
distance to reach a fresh track across country, the enemy making no sign
of pursuit, but getting on with their plunder.
"They completely deceived me," Ralph told his companions. "I took them
for carriers."
"Ah! as I did," said Mark grimly.
"And when it was too late, I saw my mistake, for they seized and bound
me, and," added the lad bitterly, "they have got my sword and belt."
Ralph walked by his companions almost in silence the rest of the time
that they were together, both Mark and his sister appearing troubled by
his presence, and it seemed a great relief to all when a path was
reached which would enable Ralph to reach Cliff Castle, the others
having some distance farther to go to reach an open part passable by
their steeds.
"I thank you, Master Mark Eden," he said quietly; and then, raising his
cap to Mary Eden, he leapt over the stones which led to the top of a
slope, and soon disappeared from their sight.
"What were you thinking, Mark?" said Mary, breaking the silence at last.
"That this would not be a bad place if we had no enemies. What were you
thinking?"
"Plenty of things," said the girl sadly.
"Well, tell me some."
"I'm tired, and hungry, and thirsty. It will soon be dark. Father will
be angry because we have been so long; and I am getting frightened."
"What of?" said Mark sharply.
"Of meeting with the robbers again."
"I should almost like to," cried Mark fiercely.
"Oh Mark!" cried the girl in dismay.
"Well, if you were not here," he said, with a laugh.
"It's getting too bad. Once upon a time there was only the Darleys to
mind. Now these people--this Captain Purlrose and his men--seem to
belong to the land, and father will not fight them. Oh, if I only were
master, what I would do! There, canter, and let's get home. I want to
think."
Home was reached, and Sir Edward made acquainted with the encounter, at
which he frowned, but said very little that night, except once, when he
suddenly broke out petulantly:
"It seems, Mark, as if you were always running against this boy of
Darley's. Have the goodness in future to go some other way."