Turning heavy head, Sir John saw about him a huddle of crouching men who all peered in the one direction, heard an incoherent, passionate muttering that changed to a groan, a gasping cry, and a man rose to his knees with rigid arms out-thrust, staggered to his feet and leapt down the grassy steep; hereupon the others awoke to sudden action; ensued a desperate scrambling, a wild babblement, a thudding of desperate feet, and Sir John lay staring on the empty dark alone save for the horse that cropped the grass near by. And then he too saw a vague and awful shape outlined in pale fire that flitted unheard upon the gloom and vanished, only to reappear as suddenly, gliding back up the slope to where he lay. And watching the thing approach, Sir John felt his flesh creep and he shivered with a growing dread that mocked at sanity and reason until he strove desperately against his bonds, but, finding this vain, lay still again, watching. On it came, looming more gigantic and frightful with every yard, nearer still, until he could distinguish the monstrous head surmounted by widespreading, fiery horns, nearer, until from this awful shape a whispering voice reached him. “Be that Sir John Dering? Be ye there, sir?” Then the dreadful thing swayed, stooped upon itself, thudded to earth, and in its place was a tall, broad-shouldered man who, running forward, knelt and began to cut and loose off Sir John’s galling bonds. “Gagged ye too, ’ave they!” quoth the voice, and next moment Sir John, relieved of the gag, reached out fumbling hand and spoke: “Mr. Potter—O George Potter, though you come like a demon o’ darkness, a very devil, yet no angel could be more welcome!” “Why, sir, Potter frit’ they rogues praper, I rackon. They cut off amazin’ quick, an’ they ain’t like to come back—an’ yet they may. So up wi’ ye, sir, an’ quick’s the word!” Sir John arose but, clapping hand to head, reeled weakly. “Be your ’ead ’urted bad, sir?” “Nothing to mention, thanks to my hat and wig.” “Can ye ride, sir?” “Easier than walk.” “Well, up it is, then!” And, half lifting Sir John to the saddle, Mr. Potter laid a shapeless bundle across the withers and they set off together. “How came you so fortunately to my relief, George?” “Well, sir, I happed to be a-waitin’ for Mus’ Sturton an’ ... t’other ’un, meanin’ to frutten Sturton away an’ get t’other ’un alone if so might be, when ’long comes ’alf a dozen chaps wi’ this ’ere ’orse an’ you acrost it, though I didn’t know ’twas you then, sir. But suddent-like, t’other ’un says, ‘Why not finish ’im and ha’ done?’ ’e says. ‘Because I wun’t ’ave it!’ says Sturton, very determinated.” “’T’other ’un’ being the man Jonas Skag, I think?” inquired Sir John. “Why, sir, I wun’t deny it. Well, sir, they stops purty nigh wheer I wur a-hidin’ to arg’ the matter, an’ I soon found ’twas you they was a-quarrellin’ over. An’ presently on they goes an’ me creepin’ arter ’em bidin’ a chance to do what I might.”