"That I could do, sir," replied the man, "and you and the lady could make yourselves as comfortable as possible in the coach." "Bring back some vehicle to get us into Newport before midnight, and I'll give you the price of your horse," cried Victor Lamont in an apparently eager voice. "All right, sir," replied the driver. "I'll do my best." And in a trice he was off, as Sally supposed, on his mission. She had listened, with chattering teeth, to all that had been said. "Oh, goodness gracious! Mr. Lamont," she asked, "why are you peering out of the coach window? Do you see--or hear--anybody?" He did not attempt to take her hand or talk sentimental nonsense to her now. That was not part of the business he had before him. "Do not be unnecessarily frightened," he murmured; "but I fancied--mind, I only say fancied--that I heard cautious footsteps creeping over the fallen leaves. Perhaps it was a rabbit, you know--a stray dog, or mischievous squirrel." Sally was clutching at his arm in wild affright. "I--I heard the same noise, too!" she cried, with bated breath, "and, oh! Mr. Lamont, it _did_ sound like a footstep creeping cautiously toward us! I was just about to speak to you of it." Five, ten minutes passed in utter silence. Victor Lamont made no effort to talk to her. This was one of the times when talking sentiment would not have been diplomatic. "Oh, Mr. Lamont!" cried Sally, clinging to him in the greatest terror, "I am sure we both could not have been mistaken. There _is_ some one skulking about under the shadow of those trees--one--two--three--persons; I see them distinctly." "You are right," he whispered, catching her trembling, death-cold hands in his, and adding, with a groan of despair: "Heaven help us! what can we do? Without a weapon of any kind, I am no match for a trio of desperadoes!" Young Mrs. Gardiner was too terrified to reply. She could not have uttered a word if her life had depended upon it. At that instant the vehicle was surrounded by three masked figures. The light from a bull's-eye lantern was flashed in Sally's face as the door was thrown violently back, and a harsh voice cried out, as a rough hand grasped her: "Just hand over those jewels, lady, and be nimble, too, or we'll tear 'em off you! Egg, you relieve the gent of his money and valuables." "Help! help! help!" cried Sally, struggling frantically; but the man who had hold of her arm only laughed, declaring she had a good pair of lungs. Victor Lamont made a pretense of making a valiant struggle to come to her rescue. But what could he do, with two revolvers held close to his head, but stand and deliver. Then the magnificent Gardiner diamonds, with their slender golden fastenings, were torn from her, and were soon pocketed by the desperado, who had turned a revolver upon her. "Thanks, and good-bye, fair lady," laughed the trio, retreating. But Sally had not heard. She had fallen back on the seat of the coach in a dead faint. CHAPTER XXXVIII.