The Black Tor Part 22

"We're surrounded," cried Ralph excitedly, as they saw six or seven men appearing from different directions, and evidently all making the spot where the lads now stood the centre for which they aimed.

"You coward!" cried Mark bitterly--"a trap--your father's men. _En garde_!" he shouted. "You shall pay for this!"

"My father's men?" cried Ralph angrily, as he ignored the other's preparations for a fresh attack. "You're mad; can't you see they're those scoundrels who came to us--Captain Purlrose and his men. Look, there he is--up yonder by that hole."

"What do they mean, then?" cried Mark, dropping the point of his weapon.

"Mischief to us," cried Ralph.

"Or me," said Mark suspiciously.

"To us, I tell you," cried Ralph.--"You won't give in?"

"No; will you?"

"Not if you'll stand by me."

"And I will," cried Mark excitedly.

"But you are wounded."

"So are you."

"I don't feel it now."

"No more do I. Hurrah, then; let them come on!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

FIGHTING LONG ODDS.

But the men did not come on, and the two lads, now breathing hard from their exertions, had time to think as well as recover their breath, for the men, after carefully approaching singly from different directions, so as to surround the combatants, now halted as if by one consent a good fifty yards away, each looking upward from time to time at the burly cloaked figure high above them, and now standing upon a big block of stone, making signals by waving his arms and pointing.

In answer to one of these signals, the men all took off the long cloaks they wore; and in a moment the thought flashed through Mark Eden's brain that these men must have been seen seated round their fire, somewhere above, and hence had arisen the rumours of witches on the mountain slope, the cloaks being their long gowns.

And now, as the men stood fast, in spite of several signs from above, Ralph suddenly said:

"Perhaps they've only come to see us fight, and are waiting for us to begin again."

"Not they," cried Mark excitedly. "I know: they mean to take us prisoners, and keep us till we're ransomed."

"Perhaps. That is why we have heard of so many robberies," said Ralph, whose hot anger against his enemy was fast cooling down.

"Yes, that's it. The dogs!" cried Mark. "I know there's a big cave up there that you go in through a narrow crack. I saw it once. They couldn't get my father to have them up at the Tor, and so they've taken possession of the cavern and turned robbers. Well, my father will soon rout them out of there."

"If yours don't, mine will," replied Ralph. "But they don't seem disposed to interfere. Are they stopping to see us fight?"

"If they are," cried Mark hotly, "they'll have to wait a long time. I'm not going to make a raree-show of myself to please them."

"Nor I neither," cried Ralph. "But," he added hastily, "you know I'm not afraid?"

"Say you know that I'm not afraid either, and I'll say the same."

"Oh, I'll say that," replied Ralph, "because I know it."

"That's right, then," said Mark; "and we can finish having it out another time."

"Of course. I say, though, your leg's bleeding a good deal."

"Oh, never mind that. So's your arm."

"Can't be deep," said Ralph, "because it only smarts a bit. I say, look there! That's Captain Purlrose upon the stone, and he's making signals again."

The wide ring of men saw the signs made by the burly figure above, and they all wrapped their cloaks round their left arms, and then drew their swords.

"Then they do mean to fight," cried Mark excitedly.

"Yes, but they don't come on. I say: you're not going to let them take you prisoner, are you?"

"I'm not going to run away," said Mark st.u.r.dily.

"But they are six to one," said Ralph.

"Yes, if you stand still and look on. If you won't let them take you, they'll only be three to one."

"I'm going to make a dash for it," said Ralph, setting his teeth hard, for his wound smarted a good deal, and there was a peculiar warm feeling as of something trickling down his sleeve.

"What, run away?"

"Who said I was going to run away?" cried Ralph. "Look here: in war two kings who hate one another often join together against an enemy."

"Of course," said Mark.

"I hate you and all your family, but we don't want any one else to set up here, near our homes, do we?"

"No," said Mark sharply.

"Then I'll stand by you like a trump," cried Ralph; "if you'll stand by me now. It's long odds, but we've got right on our side."

"Shake hands on it then," cried Mark--"No, we can't do that, because it's like making friends, when we're enemies and hate one another."

"No, we can't shake hands," said Ralph warmly, "but we can make our swords kiss hilts, and that's joining together for the fight."

"Agreed," cried Mark; and the lace steel sh.e.l.ls of their rapiers clinked together, making the men, who were watching them intently, exchange glances. "I say," said Mark hastily, "wasn't that a mistake?"

"What?"