"Oh! may we not make one gallant charge on that murderous mob? we should scatter them as chaff before the wind. Oh! Geoffrey, give leave, I prithee!" "And lose the King's letter, perhaps. Nay, my brave boy, it must not be," answered Geoffrey, as they galloped on. On, on into the darkness they rode, their gallant horses neither faltering nor failing. As they rode a shrill cry as of some stricken creature in its last agony burst upon their ears; they could not avoid this case of distress, it lay in their very road. A group of men could be dimly discerned at the roadside. They had heeded not the approach of a single horseman as Robin swept past them, but as the central group came thundering on the men leapt into the adjoining wood. "Halt!" cried Geoffrey, and he blew his signal to the advance-guard. A man was evidently bound to a tree; at his feet was a half-extinguished fire. Seizing a firebrand and swinging it into flame, the lad Tom (who had dismounted) held it close to the prisoner's face, then cut his bonds with his dagger. The man was a Jewish peddler, and his mutilated hands showed the cause of his cries of anguish, three of his fingers had been roughly cut away. "Speak, man!" cried Geoffrey; "tell us quickly your case, for we may not tarry." Then the peddler told them, in hurried words, that he had fallen into the hands of robbers, and that they were torturing him until he should tell them where he had concealed his pack. "And where is your pack?" said Geoffrey. The man hesitated, he cast a suspicious eye on Geoffrey. "Put aside your fear, man," said Geoffrey; "we are Englishmen on service for King Philip, and we are in hot haste." "At Busigney, my lord," said the peddler, regaining confidence. Geoffrey consulted with his comrades for a few moments. They would pass Busigney shortly on their route, they could not leave the man to perish; a decision was soon reached. "We will take you to Busigney," said Geoffrey; "mount behind me, my horse is strong and will carry two as well as one." "Heaven bless you, my lord," replied the man, and by the help of the lad Tom he was soon seated behind Geoffrey. "Forward!" cried Geoffrey, "we have lost valuable time and we must make up for it," and the whole party galloped on at increased speed. But ere they had gone far the lad in the rear overtook them at a hot pace. "There is a strong body of cavalry coming up behind us, and in a few moments they will over-take us—they are riding furiously." Geoffrey called all his party together, still riding onward. "Which is it, boys," he cried, "fight or flight? The first may be fatal to our mission, the second may fail." Then the peddler spake—