"I started, and instinctively grasped my staff, on perceiving a tall stout fellow muffled in a dark rocquelaure, with his face masked, and a hat flapped over his eyes. He rode a strong, fleet, and active horse, and carried long holsters. "'Crush me, if it isn't a Scotch Jockey--a pedlar, I warrant!' said he, drawing a pistol from his saddlebow; 'they never travel without the ready; so hand over the bright Jacobuses or William's guilders, or else I may pop this bullet through your brain.' "I was desperate, and replied, 'Fire! and rid me of an existence that is worthless. I have nothing to give but my life, and it is no longer of value to me.' "'A gentleman, by this light!' replied the other, withdrawing his pistol, 'some cavalier in disguise, I warrant.' "'You have guessed rightly; so now lead me to the nearest justice of the peace for a reward, if you will.' "'For what do you take me?' said he, angrily. 'God bless King James, and may the great devil choak his son-in-law! Ah, had the good Dundee (a Scot though he was) survived that brave day's work, in your infernal pass of what d'ye call it? 'twould have been another case with us both today, perhaps. So thou art a Scottish cavalier?' "'Once I was so--to-night I am a beggar, perishing by want, and without a roof to shelter me.' "'Hast thou no money, lad?' "'Not a penny, and have two hundred miles to travel.' "'Hast thou no friends among the English here?' "'Have I not said that I am poor?' "'Right! I have learned in my time that the poor have no friends.' "'Save God and their own hands.' "'Right again, say I; though a highwayman, I love thee lad, for we have suffered in common from this accursed usurper, who sits in the throne of of our king. Here are thirty guineas; 'tis the half of all I have in the world, but to-morrow night may bring me better luck; take them with welcome, and spend them without scruple; but two hours ago, they were in the purse of that rascally whig, Marmaduke Langstone, of Langstone Hall. Keep to the right, and an hour's brisk walking will bring you to a hedge alehouse. Whisper my name to the wench at the bar (kiss her for me), and she will put thee on the right road for Colchester; the girl is true as steel to the good old cause.' "'Whom shall I thank--whom remember?' "'They call me "Highflying Tom" now, eastward of Temple Bar,' said he in a tone of bitterness; 'but when King James sat in his own chair, I was Thomas Butler, _Esquire_, of a long pedigree and an empty purse--devil else--but a gentleman every inch, sir; one that has shot his man, played at Cavagnole with King Charles, and Ombre with the Queen; drank many a bout with Rochester, ruffled it with Buckingham, and handed the fair Castlemaine and fairer Cleveland through a crowded cotillon. But it's all over now; and, d--n me! I am plain Bully Butler the highwayman.--So, sir, your servant;' and dashing spurs into his horse, he galloped away over the heath."