"Tush, man, you have me near you," rejoined Mittachip, boldly. "See! I am armed! Look at my pistols!" And he leant back in the saddle, so as to give Master Duffy a good view of a pair of huge pistols that protruded ostentatiously from his belt. Yet all around the air was still, the solitary Heath was at peace, even the breezy nor’-wester, that had blustered throughout the day, seemed to have lain down to rest. Far out eastwards, the moon, behind a fast dispersing bank of clouds, was casting a silver radiance that was not yet a light, but only a herald of the glittering radiance to come. The Moor was silent and at peace: only at times there came the sound of a gentle flutter, a moorhen perhaps within its nest, or a belated lizard seeking its home. Whenever these slight sounds occurred, Master Mittachip’s hands that held the reins trembled visibly, and his clerk clung more closely to him. "What was that?" said the attorney in an awed whisper, as his frightened ears caught a more distinct noise. "W ... w ... why don’t you draw your p ... p ... pistols, Master Mittachip?" murmured Duffy, in mad alarm. The noise was hushed again, but to the overwrought nerves of the two men in terror, there came the certain, awful perception that someone was on the Heath besides themselves, someone not far off, whom the mist hid from their view, but who knew that they were travelling along the bridle path, who could see and perhaps hear them. "Truth to tell, Master Duffy," whispered the attorney, whose teeth too had begun to chatter. "Truth to tell, it’s no use my drawing them ... they ... they are not loaded." Master Duffy nearly fell off the pillion in his fright. "What?" "There’s neither powder nor shot in them," continued Master Mittachip, ruefully. "Th ... th ... then we are lost!" was Master Duffy’s ejaculation of woe. "Eh?—what?" quoth Mittachip, "but your pistols are charged." And his pointed elbow sought behind it for the handles of two formidable weapons, which were stuck in Master Duffy’s belt. "N ... n ... nay!" whispered the clerk, who now was blue with terror. "I dared not carry the weapons loaded.... I trusted to your valour, Master Mittachip, to protect us." "What was that?" Again that noise! this time a good deal nearer, and it seemed to Master Mittachip’s affrighted eyes as if he saw something moving on the bridle path before him. But he would not show too many signs of fear before his own clerk. "Tush, man!" he said with as much boldness as he could command. "’Tis only a lizard in the grass mayhap. We’ll ride on quite boldly. We can’t be far from Brassington now, and no footpads would dare to attack two lusty fellows on horseback, with pistols showing in their belts! ... Lord!" he added with a shudder, "how lonely this place appears!" "And that rascal, Beau Brocade, haunts this Heath every night, I’m told," murmured Master Duffy, who felt more dead than alive.