"I’m in the right temper for a tussle," returned Robin resignedly. "Yet if these travelers do not molest us they may pass on their way unchallenged for me," and, reluctantly, he withdrew a few paces farther into the thicket, just as a coach and four rounded the bend in the road and drew up not many paces away. A man jumped out of the rumble, and hurrying to the inn-door, battered and kicked at it, loudly shouting, "Ferry—ho, Ferry—where is the Ferryman? Ho, Landlord, open your door quickly and do not waste our time." An upper window opened cautiously, just wide enough to show a night-capped head within. "Who calls for the ferry at this hour?" demanded a quavering voice. "Why, ’tis early yet," replied the man; "we are travelers who would cross in hot haste." "Your haste will have time to cool—the ferryman beds t’other side the river and comes not over unless he brings a fare," said the landlord. "Is there no way of calling him? He will be well paid for his trouble; and you, too, Goodman, may find it worth while to come down and serve my noble master," cried the man. "There’s a horn chained to yon post; blow it, if you will, an’ if he hears you, mayhap he’ll bring his boat across. If you want food and drink, you’ll find none fit for the quality nearer than Hailing. My wife is sick a-bed and I’m lame with the rheumatics, but I’ll come down and open if you’ll have patience." And the head was withdrawn and the casement shut. In the meantime the carriage door was opened and a man descended. His figure, which a ray of the setting sun brought into strong relief, was immediately recognized by Robin, who muttered, "Sir Geoffrey Beaudesert! What brings him across my path again?" and pushing forward a little, caught the sound of his own name. "I swear to you that Robin Freemantle is dead!" "You lie!" shouted Robin. Sir Geoffrey started and looked round. "What was that?" he exclaimed uneasily. Prue instantly renewed her cries, "Help! help! If ye be true men, come to my rescue!" Two masked and cloaked horsemen promptly advanced, leveling their pistols at Sir Geoffrey’s head. "Stand and deliver!" commanded the taller of them, in deep, vibrant tones. At the sound of that beloved voice, Prue, with a cry of joy, sprang out of the carriage, and rushing to Robin, who was already afoot, threw herself into his arms. "Oh! joy—oh! Robin, dear, dear Robin, Heaven has sent you to deliver me from this villain!" At the sight of their meeting and the maddening certainty of his own utter discomfiture, Sir Geoffrey could not contain his fury, but drawing his sword, would have hurled himself upon Robin had not Prue stood between them with outstretched arms. "Stand aside, woman!" he vociferated, beside himself with rage. "Must I kill you to get at him? Coward! are you going to shelter yourself behind a woman?" "Stand aside, Prue," said Robin, in a tone she dared not disobey, and drawing his sword he placed himself on the defensive.