Mary sat gazing straight before her, and had to ride ignominiously back to the zigzags leading up to the top of the Black Tor, where she dismounted, and Dummy led the pony to its underground stable.

"I shan't tell Master Mark," said the boy to the pony, as he took off bridle and saddle; "and you can't, Ugly; and she won't neither, so n.o.body'll never know."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

MASTER RAYBURN ADVISES.

Captain Purlrose and his merry men had found a place just to their liking, where they lived like pigs in a hole of the earth, and as voraciously. He chuckled and crowed as they ate and drank, and waited till their stock of provisions began to grow low, and then started off upon a fresh expedition, to gather tribute, as he called it. He did not expose himself to any risks, but kept his ascendancy over his men by sheer cunning and ability in making his plans, leading them to where they could come quite unexpectedly upon some lonely cottage or farmhouse, ill-use and frighten the occupants nearly to death, adding insult to injury by loading the spoil of provisions, or whatever it pleased them to take, on the farmer's horses, leading them away, and after unloading them at the cave, setting them adrift.

The captain laughed at all threats, for he felt that no one would dare to follow him to his stronghold; and if an attack were made, he knew that he could easily beat it off. The only two people near who were at all likely to trouble him were his old captain, Sir Morton Darley, and Sir Edward Eden.

"And they'll talk about it, and and threats, and never come."

He seemed to be right, for as report after report of raids being made, here and there in the neighbourhood of the two strongholds reached their owners, Sir Morton Darley would vow vengeance against the marauders, and then go back to his books; and Sir Edward Eden would utter a vow that he would hang Captain Purlrose from the machicolations over the gateway at the Black Tor, and then he would go into his mining accounts, and hear the reports of his foreman, Dan Rugg, about how many pigs there were in the sty--that is to say, pigs of lead in the stone crypt-like place where they were stored.

And so time went on, both knights having to listen to a good many upbraidings from Master Rayburn, who visited and scolded them well for not combining and routing out the gang from their hole.

"I wish you would not worry me, Rayburn," said Sir Morton one day, in Ralph's presence. "I don't want to engage upon an expedition which must end in bloodshed. I want to be at peace, with my books."

"But don't you see that bloodshed is going on, and that these ruffians are making the place a desert?"

"Yes," said Sir Morton, "it is very tiresome. I almost wish I had taken them into my service."

"And made matters worse, for they would not have rested till you had made war upon the Edens."

"Yes," said Sir Morton, "I suppose it would have been so."

"Why not get the men quietly together some night, father, and if I went round, I'm sure I could collect a dozen who would come and help--men whose places have been robbed."

"That's right, Ralph; there are people as much as twenty miles away-- twelve men? Five-and-twenty, I'll be bound."

"Well, I'll think about it," said Sir Morton; and when Master Rayburn walked home that day, Ralph bore him company part of the way, and chatted the matter over with him.

"I'm getting ashamed of your father, Ralph, lad. He has plenty of weapons of war, and he could arm a strong party, and yet he does nothing."

"I wish he would," said the lad. "I don't like the idea of fighting, but I should like to see those rascals taken."

"But you will not until your father is stirred up by their coming and making an attack upon your place."

"Oh, they would not dare to do that," cried Ralph.

"What! why, they are growing more daring day by day; and mark my words, sooner or later they'll make a dash at the Castle, and plunder the place."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ralph, as he thought of his sister.

"I wish they would," cried the old man angrily, "for I am sick of seeing such a state of things in our beautiful vales. No one is safe. It was bad enough before, with the petty contemptible jealousies of your two families, and the fightings between your men. But that was peace compared to what is going on now."

"Don't talk like that, Master Rayburn," said Ralph warmly. "I don't like you to allude to my father as you do."

"I must speak the truth, boy," said the old man. "You feel it now; but some day, when you are a man grown, and your old friend has gone to sleep, and is lying under the flowers and herbs and trees that he loved in life, you will often think of his words, and that he was right."

Ralph was silent.

"I am not a man of war, my boy, but a man of peace. All the same, though, whenever either your father or young Mark Eden's arms his men to drive these ruffians out of our land, I am going to gird on my old sword, which is as bright and sharp as ever, to strike a blow for the women and children. Yes, for pretty Minnie Darley, and Mary Eden too.

For I love 'em both, boy, and have ever since they were bairns."

Ralph went back home to Cliff Castle, thinking very deeply about the old man's words, and wishing--and planning in a vague way--that he and Mark Eden could be friendly enough to act in some way together without the help or knowledge of their fathers, and make an attack upon these men, so as to put an end to a state of things which kept all women-kind prisoners in their homes, and the men in a state of suspense as to when next they should be attacked and plundered of all they had.

It was only natural that Master Rayburn should talk in an almost similar way to Mark Eden and his father, but only for Sir Edward to promise and not perform. And one day the old man actually took Ralph's idea, and said suddenly to Mark:

"Look here, young fellow, why don't you take the bit in your teeth, collect your men quietly, get Ralph Darley to do the same, and you boys go together and thrash those ruffians out, kill them, or take them prisoners. Old as I am, I'll come and help."

"Yes, why not?" cried Mark eagerly. "No," he said directly; "the Darleys would not and could not join us even if I were willing; and I'm not."

Old Master Rayburn's words went deeper into the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the two lads than they knew. Their natures were in those early days rather like tinder, and in his angry flint and steely way, the old man had struck a spark into each, which lay there latent, waiting to be blown into a hot glow; and who should perform that office but Captain Purlrose himself?

It was in this way. One bright morning, Sir Edward was examining a young partly-broken horse that had been reared in the pastures across the river, and expressed himself delighted with its appearance.

"What do you say to it, Mark?" he cried. "Not strong enough to carry me, but I should think it would suit Mary exactly."

"Couldn't be better, father," said the lad, though he felt a little disappointed, for he half expected that his father would have given it to him.

"Call her, then, and she shall try it. And by the way, Mark, there is that other--that chestnut--which will do for you."

The lad flushed with pleasure, for he had fully believed that his father intended the handsome, strongly made chestnut for his own use. Mary Eden was fetched, came out, and tried the gentle, slightly-built palfrey, and the chestnut was brought too, proving everything that could be desired.

"There!" said Sir Edward, after their paces had been tried in one of the meadows; "now you are both better mounted than any young people in the Midlands, so go and have a good round together, and get back well before dark. Don't distress the horses, and go right away, and make a round to the west, so as not to go near Ergles. Not that the scoundrels would dare to attack you."

Ten minutes after, brother and sister were riding slowly along the track on the other side of the river, Mary enjoying the change after being shut up for some weeks; and in consequence, the round was extended to a greater distance than the pair had intended. It was getting toward dark, and they were approaching one of the narrow ravines through which the river ran, one which hardly gave room for the horse track as well, when Mary said merrily:

"You must take the blame, Mark, for we shall not be home by dusk."

"Oh yes, we shall," he replied. "Once we are through these rocks, we'll cut right across country, and--who are those people in front?"

"Carriers, with pack horses and donkeys," said his sister; "and they have heavy loads too."

Mark looked long and hard at the party, which was partly hidden by the trees, and then agreed with his sister.

"Yes," he said; "the horses are loaded with sacks of corn seemingly."

The people with their stores of provender were some distance ahead, and Mark thought no more of them, for, soon after, his attention was taken up by a group of men behind them a few hundred yards, walking, and coming on hurriedly, as if to overtake them.

"Let's ride on faster, Mary," he said rather quickly.

"Why? What is the matter?"