The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First by George Manville Fenn (classic romance novels .TXT) 📕

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.”