With the soft tongue of a deceiver, then, he consoled her; while, with the strength of a young ox, he tore off his fair prize with the greatest ease. “This is a good night’s work,” thought he, as he hurried forward; “his majesty will amply reward me for all this trouble, and, who knows, may raise me to the peerage, for many a man has had that reward for doing less than I have.” Thus he mused as he went on his way. Ere long he approached the spot where Jonas had agreed to place his carriage and horses. His own saddle horse was there, truly, but not the carriage. “How is this?” growled Blood. “Surely that fool, Jonas, could not have misunderstood me? I told him near this spot.” He was now approaching the church, and resolved to wait near an old archway close beside the village green, with its May-pole, until such time as Jonas should appear with the carriage. He remained close under the shadow of the old archway, but all was still. The village green, with its May-pole, was deserted. Not a soul was visible. He threw his cloak around the miller’s daughter, and tried to comfort her. All at once, he was astonished at the sight he saw. His own carriage dashed up, and passed him at a furious rate. The driver was a skeleton! Behind the carriage stood, in grim outlines, two skeleton footmen, cocked-hats and all. Inside, Colonel Blood could see four or five skeletons, who grinned and laughed hideously as they looked out of the window and shook their bony hands in triumph. In the midst of the inside passengers, Colonel Blood saw two prisoners. One was the Colonel’s coachman, the other was the fellow-footman of poor Jonas! This unearthly and ghastly apparition was not seen by Ellen Harmer, for Blood’s cloak had been adroitly thrown over her head and face the moment the strange and horrible coachman appeared in sight. It must be confessed that this coach-load of grim skeletons filled the colonel with wonder, if not with fear. “I should never have believed it had I not seen it,” mused the bold colonel. At that moment his horror even increased tenfold, as was that of the fair Ellen. Loud laughter was heard proceeding from the village green. It sounded not like that of mortal. He hastily turned his head, as also did Ellen. They both looked through the old archway towards the May-pole. The sight they then beheld was appalling. Round the May-pole danced a circle of skeletons! On top of it there sat perched a grim-looking skeleton, playing ear-piercing, diabolical music from some sort of flute made out of human bones. One of the dancers had a tambourine, with jingling bells. As they danced and capered about in most fantastic styles, they shook their bony hands in a dismal manner, which made Colonel Blood’s flesh to creep again. Directly Ellen Harmer caught sight of this dreadful exhibition, she fell back into Blood’s arms. She now fully believed all that the colonel had told her, and relied upon his protection as a man of honour.