“Murderer is marked on your face, Phillip Redgill,” said Ned, sternly. “Nay, do not tremble, for I know nought of what you have done; but I suspect and despise you, leaving it in the hands of heaven one day to disclose what you are. You need not fear that _I_ shall stand in your path to wealth or fame. Trust me, I have too much heart and spirit to eat the bread of charity longer at Sir Richard’s table; but, ere I leave, remember these my words, Redgill,” he said, after a solemn pause, “you will one day grace a gibbet; rogue, vagabond, and murderer is deeply written on your countenance. You cannot, you dare not look an honest lad openly in the face. Your own cowardly heart tells you I speak the truth; and, were it not for the disgrace to good Sir Richard, I could slay you as you sit, and think, aye, know that I had done right in the sight of man and heaven. Sir Richard, I now leave the Hall, my everlasting love is yours. Upon the wide world I go to seek my fortune; but beware of that man’s evil eye. Sir Richard, shun him like a snake. Phillip Redgill, we shall meet again.” “We will,” was the bitter answer. In an instant Wildfire Ned left the room. The village clock tolled the hour of midnight. He left Darlington Hall, and perhaps for ever! FOOTNOTES: [1] See Illustration in No. 2. CHAPTER VIII. RELEASE OF BOB—CAPTAIN JACK’S BAND—THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL—THE QUARREL—THIRTEEN DEATH WARRANTS—FLIGHT OF THE THIEF-TAKERS. Bob the outcast, as we have seen, was thrown into prison, and safely guarded by the village authorities. As may be supposed, poor Bob was almost turned crazy by the terrible event, and walked up and down his prison cell looking pale, thoughtful, and miserable. He protested his innocence on all occasions. Many believed that the murderers or murderer would in time be traced to the far-famed Skeleton Crew, who prowled around the neighbouring coasts. The keeper of the village prison was a timid old man, and much feared that the red-hot zeal on the part of some of Bob’s sympathisers might lead them on to attack the gaol, perhaps attempt a rescue. This so weighed upon the chief constable’s mind that he wrote off to London, begging of the authorities there to take the case in hand. In accordance with the wishes of the village authorities a party of men were sent down to Darlington for the purpose of conducting Rambling Bob to London. The party consisted of seven mounted men, all armed to the teeth, who arrived in the village one evening, several days after the commission of the murder. They pulled up their horses, and alighted at the “Red Lion” public-house. With many loud words, a great deal of bombastic talk and swearing, they clattered about the inn yard, shouting to the ostlers and servants in such a grand style that old Hornblower, the publican, began to think that perhaps his visitors were none other than royal personages, or nobles, at least.