“No quarter, lads; no quarter,” said Captain Jack; “the old baronet fights like a fiend. He has wounded several already. No quarter, lads; no quarter.” It was at this moment, when surrounded by Captain Jack’s desperate men, and each moment in expectation of being killed, that Wildfire Ned darted upon the spot full speed. Bang! bang! went his pistols right and left as he approached. Whipping out his sword, he spurred Starlight into a maddening gallop, and actually rode down all before him. Captain Jack was unhorsed in an instant, and rolled into the ditch with a loud curse. Old Sir Richard was astonished at the dash and valour of the youth before him; but from the mask which Ned wore it was impossible for him to detect his nephew. Wildfire Ned was too busy with those around him to pass any compliments or exchange recognition. The fight now was between the highwaymen on the one side, and Sir Richard and Wildfire Ned on the other. Sir Richard, however, was on foot, and could not do so much as Ned, who pranced and danced around on Starlight, cutting and slashing in gallant style. Perceiving that several of the highwaymen were disabled, and had left the spot, the coachman and footman emerged from their hiding-place under the hedge, whither they had at first fled. With thick clubs in hand, they now joined the fight, and laid about them with such right good-will, so that Captain Jack and his party were only too glad to escape with their lives. As soon as the fight was over, and Sir Richard could gain sufficient strength, he tottered up to Wildfire Ned, and said— “Gallant youth, whoever you are, how can I sufficiently thank you for your timely aid? I had a fellow traveller with me, a noble young man of unstained honour, but I fear he has fallen a victim to these scoundrels who attacked me. Your name, I beg, young man; your name, that I may recount your noble deeds this night to the king.” “Sir Richard Warbeck,” Ned replied, with a forced utterance and a feigned voice, “no thanks are needed, I have simply done my duty. My name you cannot—must not—at the present know, for I have not made a name for fame as yet. When I have done so, however, you will hear of me at Darlington Hall.” With a low bow to Sir Richard, Wildfire Ned galloped from the spot, in pursuit of the fleeing highwaymen. “Lor’ a mercy me, master,” gasped the coachman, “didn’t thee know ’un? _I_ do.” “Ah! Sir Richard, it be Wildfire Ned,” said the footman. “He were disguised, but I could swear to it when I seed him ride.” “There’s not another lad in all England as can straddle a saddle like Ned, Sir Richard,” the coachman remarked. “What! am I blind?” Sir Richard said. “Could that brave lad have been no other than my own Ned? Am I dreaming? and yet all along through the fight my heart told me so. Brave boy!” he sighed. And as he spoke true tears trickled down the old man’s cheeks, for he dearly loved Ned.