Nearer came the riders.
"There are not more than three," whispered Trenchard, who had been listening intently, and Mr.Wilding nodded, but said nothing.
Another moment and the little party was abreast of those watchers; a dark brown riding-habit flashed into their line of vision, and a blue one laced with gold.

At sight of the first Mr.Wilding's eyelids flickered; he had recognized it for Ruth's, with whom rode Diana, whilst some twenty paces or so behind came Jerry, the groom.

They were returning to Bridgwater.
They came along, looking neither to right nor to left, as the three men had hoped they would, and they were all but past, when suddenly Wilding gave his roan a touch of the spur and bounded forward.

Diana's horse swerved so that it nearly threw her.

Ruth, slightly ahead, reined in at once; so, too, did the groom in the rear, and so violently in his sudden fear of highwaymen that he brought his horse on to its hind legs and had it prancing and rearing madly about the road, so that he was hard put to it to keep his seat.
Ruth looked round as Mr.Wilding's voice greeted her.
"Mistress Wilding," he called to her.