Presently to
Robert Sadler the light of a torch revealed the postern gate ajar.
"They must have fled!" he cried. "See!" and he pointed to the postern
gate.
"Mount and follow!" commanded Sir Thomas.
"Nay, not in the darkness," objected the aid. "Wait for the moon to
rise."
"Ay, wait!" exclaimed Sir Thomas, impatiently. "I believe thou wast
born with that word in thy mouth. Wouldst have them get a better start
of us than they have? Dost know that they did leave the treasure chests
empty, and then dost thou counsel us to wait on the tardy moon? 'Twas
rich treasure they took, or report speaketh false. And every moment
maketh our chance to seize it smaller."
Every man was now astride his horse, and Sir Thomas, his hand on Robert
Sadler's bridle, dashed ahead. The rest followed, crowding through the
narrow gate and out into the darkness on the narrow bridge. Here and
there a torch gleamed, and its reflection shone full in the glassy
water of the ditch. Here was no shadowy depth of a ravine, but a broad
plain,--a watery plain, into which the heavily weighted horses and
riders sank, rising to cry for help and catch at straws.
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