“Yes, _me_, uncle. No rope shall ever go round Bob’s neck while there is a sword in the village to prevent it.” “Silly boy,” said the knight, with a smile, “I know that you are brave, no one can doubt that; but what could _you_ do against so many?” “Let them dare attempt to hang him in Darlington, and you would soon see what Wildfire Ned would do.” “But they will not hang him here in the village. Most likely they will take him to the nearest large town, perhaps to London, for all I know.” “I wish they _would_ take him to London,” said Ned, with a smile. “Indeed! And what then, pray?” “Why, I would arm and lead on a party of gallant youths. We would soon beat back the soldiers.” While they were speaking thus, a servant announced that a stranger had arrived at the Hall. “His name?” “Mr. Phillip Redgill, sir.” “Show him up; _he_ is no stranger; he is a relation. Show him up.” The knight seemed pleased at the unexpected coming of his nephew. Phillip soon entered. He was most elegantly attired, and carried a sword. His face was rather handsome, but he had a dark, wicked-looking eye. There was an uneasy twitch about his mouth, and when he smiled he showed a set of large teeth. When he entered the room, he cast a quick, vicious look towards Ned. Immediately after, however, he wore a forced smile, and shook Sir Richard very cordially with his ungloved hand. He turned towards Wildfire Ned, and extended his hand towards him also, in a cold, formal way. “It is not necessary,” said Ned, with a proud toss of his head; “your hand is cold and clammy; it gives me the shivers; its feel is fishy, Phillip Redgill.” Saying this, he left the room with a flashing eye and proud step. “Queer youth that, Sir Richard,” said Phillip, with a bitter smile. “At the same time,” he thought, “I’d give a thousand pounds to know he was dead; he seems thrown in my path to thwart me.” “But he is a brave youth,” said Sir Richard, in flattering tones. “Is he,” laughed Redgill; “I have often thought he was a very rash one.” “His best friends say the same; but it will all wear off with age and experience.” “Perhaps so, Sir Richard; but it strikes me very forcibly he will never live to be any very great age,” said Redgill, very slowly and with great emphasis. “Why not?” said the old knight, quickly. “He is too passionate. Had it not been for my own good temper, and the respect I have for you, I should have publicly horsewhipped him for his rudeness to me on more than one occasion.” “But you are older than he is, Phillip,” sternly said Sir Richard; “you must remember that.” “True; but no more of that. I have come from London expressly to inform you that my father, through his influence with the king’s government, has managed to get a midshipman’s commission for Ned, this great favourite of yours. If you like to consent, he can join his ship at once; it lies at Portsmouth, ready to sail.”