“I’ll follow behind and stop them on the road,” said Ethan, resolutely. “Then I can get the paper, if possible, and slip away before Danvers can reach the ear of any one to betray me.” “I’m with you,” said Richard Dale. Ethan clasped his hand in silence. At that moment the carriage started up the dark road. A boy was driving it, and he was compelled to go slowly, so they had no trouble in keeping it within hearing; for it was impossible to see more than a dozen yards ahead, and the lamps were but pin points of flame invisible from behind. Suddenly there was a shout, a shrill cry and the sound of plunging horses. “He’s upon them already,” shouted Ethan. Both he and Dale broke into a stumbling run down the dark road toward the sounds. Then came a pistol shot, another cry, the confused sound of voices, and at last rapid hoofbeats flying along the road. When they reached the scene they found the driver crouched in fear by the roadside, one of his horses lying in a tangle of harness, while Danvers, supported by Wheelock, was bleeding and unconscious. Ethan seized one of the carriage lamps, flashed its dim rays about, and took in all this. But he kept his face hidden as much as possible. “Help!” called Wheelock, eagerly, as the footsteps of the newcomers fell upon his hearing. “A highwayman has attacked and has robbed us.” “Of your money?” said Ethan, a tremble in his voice. “No; of a paper--a very valuable paper. Get horses; pursue him; take him dead or alive, and the reward will open your eyes.” Ethan and Dale looked at each other, but neither spoke; from far down the dark road the hoofs of the great black horse rang ever more faintly upon the frozen ground. CHAPTER XXII THE PRESS-GANG To hasten back to the inn and secure a couple of horses was the work of but a few minutes. Then Ethan and Richard Dale started in pursuit of the gentleman of the road. “He’s making his way toward the highway to London,” said Ethan as their mounts dashed bravely along the dark road. “And as I suppose he knows every cross-path and turn of the way there is not much hope of our overtaking him.” “I’m afraid not,” answered Dale. “But we’ll after him for all that,” said Ethan. “We must take advantage of every chance to recover the dispatch.” But it was as the boy feared. Master Dirk Hatfield knew all the roads and cross-paths, even in the darkness, and, like a fox, his first efforts were devoted to winding and doubling upon his trail. But they felt that he was headed for London, and so pressed on in that direction. They reached the capital late one afternoon, and sent the horses to a person whom their owner had indicated. “Now,” said Ethan, after this had been attended to, “I think the first thing that we should do is to get a change of costume--something less noticeable than we are now wearing.” “I have been thinking of that,” said Dale. “This scarlet coat makes me a marked man, and that is not good for one who does not desire to be observed.”