"What was it they shied at first?" I asked. "Did you see anyone?" "Just catched a glimpse of the blackguard, sir, and that was all," Burdett answered. "We were a-spinning along beautiful, for they knew as they were on their way home, them animals did, when, all of a sudden like, Dandy shies, and up goes the mare on her hind legs and as near as possible pitches me into the road. I slackened the reins and laid the whip across them, while Tom jumped down. And just then I saw a figure in the middle of the road and heard a crash through the carriage window. Tom, he'd catched hold of their heads by then, which was lucky; for when the firing began they was like mad creatures and I could never have held them. It's a mercy we aren't altogether smashed up, and no mistake. The Lord save me from ever being out wi' my 'osses again on such a night as this!" "You didn't see the face of the man who attacked us, then?" I asked eagerly. "Not being possessed of the eyes of a heagle or a cat, sir, I did not," Burdett replied. "Just you look round and see what sort of a night it is. Why, I can only just make out your outline, sir; although I've been looking at you this five minutes, I can't see nothing of your face." "Neither did you, I suppose, Tom?" I asked the groom. "No, sir; nothing except just a black figure. Good thing that you was neither of you hurt, sir." "I'm not sure that Mr. Marx isn't," I answered; "his face was bleeding a good deal. I wish he'd come back." Never did time pass so slowly as then, when we waited in the storm and rain for Mr. Marx's return. It must have been nearly an hour before we heard him hailing us in the distance, and soon afterwards saw his figure loom out of the darkness close at hand. He was alone. Splashed from head to foot with mud, hatless, and with great streaks of blood clotted upon his forehead and cheeks, he presented at first a frightful figure. But his face had lost that dreadful expression of numbed horror which had made it for a moment so terrible to me, and, as he sank back breathless and exhausted, among the cushions, he even attempted a smile. "All in vain, you see," he said. "Couldn't find a single trace of anyone anywhere." "Are you much hurt, sir?" asked the groom, who was tying up the broken carriage-door. "Not at all. Only a scratch. Tell Burdett to drive home as fast as he can now, Tom, there's a good fellow." We were left together to talk over this strange affair. Mr. Marx seemed to have made up his mind about it already. "Without doubt," he said deliberately, "it was some tramp, desperate with want or drink, who made up his mind to play the highwayman. He started well, and then, seeing two of us instead of one, funked it and bolted. I don't think I ever had such a start in my life." "You came off the worst," I remarked, pointing to his forehead.