Captain Jack and Faulkner spurred their horses away from the spot as speedily as possible. They did not stay a single moment longer to witness what took place. They only thought of their own safety, and galloped off as if they had suddenly confronted so many devils. One of the Skeleton Crew secured Redgill as he lay bleeding under a tree in the garden, and conveyed him to the coach. Tim did not much relish any fresh encounter whatever. Inspired with curiosity, and a keen desire to lay hands upon anything which the coach contained, he went up to the door, and peeped in. The suppliant cries of those inside affected Tim’s heart, and he loosed them from their bondage by cutting the cords with which they had been bound. This he did, but only on condition of their promising to help his master, which the liberated coachman and footman swore most solemnly to do. When they stepped out of the carriage, however, they breathed very hard for a moment or two, and, seeing the fight going on all around them, took to their heels like lamplighters, nor even turned their heads. Up the road they ran, as nimbly as rabbits, until, breathless, and almost on the point of bursting a blood-vessel, they fell headlong into a marshy pool, and lay there without attempting to move. Wildfire Ned, Bob Bertram, and the plucky innkeeper, however, had, up to this time, been busily engaged with their grim opponents. The publican had closed with one of them, and, in fast embrace, were then wrestling on the ground. Bob Bertram used his sword with both hands, and, much to his delight, cut off the arm of one and leg of another. Judge of his astonishment and horror, however, when each of those grim worthies picked up his severed limb, and hobbled off towards the coach, perhaps there to reset them, for all he knew, since they never returned to the combat again. Ned, however, with his back to a tree, contended with two at once. With his good sword he hit right and left, first at one and then at another. But it seemed as if to no purpose, for as often as they were cleaved to the earth, they rose again, as nimbly as if they were made of india-rubber and springs combined. “There’s only one vulnerable part with these devils, I’m told,” said Ned to himself, “and that is to fairly pierce them between the eyes and nose.” With well-directed thrusts Wildfire Ned attempted this feat repeatedly, but failed, and his efforts were rewarded by loud derisive laughter by his enemies. At last he succeeded. With a wild, ear-piercing shriek, a grim monster fell to the earth, and his marrowless bones crashed together with an unearthly sound. “That’s one of them,” said Ned, in high glee, but, before he could utter another word, he saw approaching, right and left, a whole company of skeletons marching in great haste to the spot. “We shall all be massacred,” said the innkeeper, in horror; “the whole band are out to-night.”