"He is very bad, but he was able to ask us for help." A wild _hurrah_! burst from the men, even the worst wounded waving their hands, as they crowded round the startled pony, which began to rear, and tried to unseat his rider.
"Quiet!" cried Mark, patting the spirited little animal's neck, and as soon as it was quiet, turning to the object of his mission.
"Now," he said, "my father starts this evening to crush out this gang of miscreants and rescue Sir Morton and your young lady.

We have plenty of swords and pikes, and I have come to ask as many of you as can strike a blow to join us." "Is this a trap, young gen'leman, to make an end of us now we're weak and down ?" "Look in my eyes, Nick Garth," said Mark, gazing straight at the sullen lowering face.

"The Edens are gentlemen, not such vile cowards as that.
Now then, who'll come and strike a blow for Sir Morton, your young lady, and Master Ralph Darley, lying helpless there ?" "All on us, my lad," cried Nick, with a fierce growl--"all on us as can manage to crawl." "Ay," rose in a shout.
"It's all right, lads," continued Nick; "the young gen'leman means what he says.

No one could be such a hound as to come down upon us now.

I says it's right, sir.