Turpin and King, meanwhile, walked quickly through the house, preceded by the host, who conducted them, and not without some inward trepidation, towards the door. Arrived there, each man rushed swiftly to his horse. Dick was in the saddle in an instant, and stamping her foot on the ostler's leg, Black Bess compelled the man, yelling with pain, to quit his hold of the bridle. Tom King was not equally fortunate. Before he could mount his horse, a loud shout was raised, which startled the animal, and caused him to swerve, so that Tom lost his footing in the stirrup, and fell to the ground. He was instantly seized by Paterson, and a struggle commenced, King endeavoring, but in vain, to draw a pistol. "Flip him,[108] Dick; fire, or I'm taken," cried King. "Fire! damn you, why don't you fire?" shouted he, in desperation, still struggling vehemently with Paterson, who was a strong man, and more than a match for a light weight like King. "I can't," cried Dick; "I shall hit you, if I fire." "Take your chance," shouted King. "Is _this_ your friendship?" Thus urged, Turpin fired. The ball ripped up the sleeve of Paterson's coat, but did not wound him. "Again!" cried King. "Shoot him, I say. Don't you hear me? Fire again!" Pressed as he was by foes on every side, himself their mark, for both Coates and Tyrconnel had fired upon him, and were now mounting their steeds to give chase, it was impossible that Turpin could take sure aim; added to which, in the struggle, Paterson and King were each moment changing their relative positions. He, however, would no longer hesitate, but again, at his friend's request, fired. The ball lodged itself in King's breast! He fell at once. At this instant a shriek was heard from the chaise: the window was thrown open, and her thick veil being drawn aside, the features of a very pretty female, now impressed with terror and contrition, were suddenly exhibited. King fixed his glazing eyes upon her. "Susan!" sighed he, "is it you that I behold?" "Yes, yes, 'tis she, sure enough," said Paterson. "You see, ma'am, what you and such like have brought him to. However, you'll lose your reward; he's going fast enough." "Reward!" gasped King; "reward! Did she betray me?" "Ay, ay, sir," said Paterson, "she blowed the gaff, if it's any consolation to you to know it." "Consolation!" repeated the dying man; "perfidious!--oh!--the prophecy--my best friend--Turpin--I die by his hand." And vainly striving to raise himself, he fell backwards and expired. Alas, poor Tom! "Mr. Paterson! Mr. Paterson!" cried Coates; "leave the landlord to look after the body of that dying ruffian, and mount with us in pursuit of the living rascal. Come, sir; quick! mount! despatch! You see he is yonder; he seems to hesitate; we shall have him now." "Well, gemmen, I'm ready," said Paterson; "but how the devil came you to let him escape?"