HIGHWAY ROMANCES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2735, 15 August 1906, Page 76

HIGHWAY ROMANCES.

By John Robinson*.

(For the Witness.)

LI— THE ABDUCTION OF THE LADY

MOLLY.

" You have found me as you left me, gentlemen, still seated in the armchair, which rheumatics ' and gout have between them almost made my prison. 'Tis but a so^ry ending for one who appeared to advantage among ■ the fashionable Corinthians of his youth and' manhood. To you T may appear an old fogey, out-of-date, and behind the times ; but I cannot help contrasting the sober habiliments -and ■ manners -of the gentlemen of your day with the .picjfruresque and gay ones of mine: If, I could transport you lack* to .the London of that time, I could show you such a scene of brightness as would dazzle your eyes. In the parts which are now filled with a black mass of humanity you will see anotlter procession, individual of w"hich would -be arrayed in tlw brightest of costumes. Gaily-bedizened ourricles would be dashing to and fro, driven by the best Corinthian whips ir England, and everything would present a blithesome and romantic appearance, such as one could not' well •imagine .in the grimy, smokY London of to-day. In those days we lived careless lives. We lived, as* it were, in an atmosphere of romance and pleasure, and did not bother with the stern realities of life until brought face to face with them. Many of us, alas, died careless deaths ; yet I think a man is happier if he create a little world of his own and live- in it than to live constantly with the grim realities of this world — when he does not live as* a man should live if he expects a pleasant welcome on his "entrance to the next. Whether I am right or wrong, I look back on those days with the same wistful regret that a young man just entered on manhood looks back to childhood's 'days, and wistfully remembers many little incidents, forgotten until now, .and thinks what he would give to be a child again. That is why I do not look Gn 'Will o' the, Night' with any degree of harshness, highway man though he was, fur he lived in the age the memory of which I cherish — for a memory, alas, is all that is left ' to me. - Don.'t think I uphold his calling, if calling it can be named ; but though he was a highwayman he had a generous side to his nature, as I showed you before, when I told you the incident of my marriage. He was wise enough, too, not to let any of those opportunities slip, for it gave him a good standing witlr the people ho helped, and they were often able out of their gratitude to extricate him from difficulties which •would perhaps have placed him on a cart on the road to Tyburn. "One night Lady Molly 'Falniouth was driving home from a friend's house, where she had been visiting. She started later than she should have done, and consequently darkness overtook her before she had traversed half the journey. She was held up by Will o' the^&ight, and relieved of all that was valunb'e. She returned home in a rape, vowing she would know no peace till he Mas laid by the heels. She sneered at her cousin," who was evidently in lovo with her, saying if she were a man she wpuld not be "content to sit idle^audjeave a blaeksruard in charge of tlie high wag to 10b and plunder at his wilL However, as the days flew on, and nothing wife done towprds the capture* she l<>t the subject diop, and appeared to -have forgotten :-t.: -t. Rut she nas a sprighth wsftch. and could not overlook the treatment to which she had been subjected -, so when s/nne time after her cousin, Sir Edward Bannister, offered her his heart and hand, she forbade li'm ever to mention love to her till he had captured Will o' the Night. You say you love m*,' quoth she, ' vet you stand by like an oaken post and suffer me 'to be robbed and insulted. Were I a man I should consider it a disgrace to mv manhood that such a thing' should be '

"With this answer Sir Ned *.uc! to be satisfied, and' he «owed to her that if the capture of WilJ V the Xi?!it were ail she wished, he would capture him even if lie had to .go dpwn to tlw regions below to do it. Though she accepted him on those terms, th° did not quite know her own mind, for theiv was another beau in - the question — Sir Mir.maduke Wade, a blackguard, and a libertine of the' worst type. More men than I care to think of had been ruined by the company of this fellow, and it is a wonder to me he was not blackballed from the clubs he used «o frequent. At the gamin? tables he hud squandered his fortune, aiid at th-e time of which I speak he v. as hi «.iuh that only one thing — a wealthy mairiage — could prevent a host of furiou<creditors fiom consigning him to a sponging house to be forgotten. So a wtalthy marriage had to be made, and he had rked on. the Lady Molly Falmouth as his victim. The* creditors had only allowed l'iin a very short time to compete the busiii«-ss. so he had to ent^r the lists at once and take no chance of failure. And he mi»ht have br*n =ncc-e.ssful tro had his luck not failed him at a time when he needed it nrost. It was at a ball at Lord Falmouth's that his lucky star went out. and left him without a light to aid

him in further villainy. The ball- in question ( was a grand affair, for, in addition to the country gentry, a hos* of London's fashionable Corinthians were present, and among them Sir Marmaduke Wade. He at once pressed himself into the company of the Lady Molly, and, faith, she was not i .averse either to listening to the pretty compliments which he was an adept at paying, l for he was a handsome rogue, in spite of his scoundrelly character. He proposed that they should take a stroll out in the moonlight. She consented, and they strolled; away down between the avenue of trees leading to the highway, and as they went along he poured' into her ears with soft, melodious voice a tale of love such as would have softened the heart of a stone. But even a* the words of honey were falling from his lips the Lady Molly was coming to her senses. A feeling came over ker which filled her with aversion for him, and in the kindest manner possible she told him that his hopes were all in vain. Then the devil within him began to show his cloven hoof, for he bulKed and threatened the fair maid, . who, frightened almost out of her wits, commenced to fly back to the house. But, that would never do. . Seizing her roughly round .the waist and putting a hand over her mouth to prevent her calling out 7he dragged her , through th«i avenue -gate, and IbrceTl her into a carriage which stood in waiting. As soon as they had entered, the man. on the box immediately lashed the" horses, and they bounded ~ onward as if all the -demons in -the bottomless pit were at their heels. They drove along to where' two roads met — one road continuing to London, the other being an old, disused road, which at one part had been partially washed away, leaving a great gulch about 30ft deep. When they drew up he again renewed his proposals, - and again they were refused. Then, mad with rage and disappointment, and driven to despair when he imagined himself an inmate of a debtors' prison, he resolved to perpetrate the- crowning act of a villainous life. Reckless,' diabolical madness was in his eyes as he asked her for the last time, in a voice like the ""growl of a wild beast, to give her consent. 'For,* quoth he, 'I'll take that old road and diive you over the gulch to the devil beyond*.' But the poor maid could do naught but rock herself to and fro, moaning, the while, then, as if suddenly realising the fate he had in store" for her, she gave vent to a prolonged shriek. And that shriek acted on him as a red rag to a bull, for, pulling the man from the box, he at once jumped into his place, gathered up the reins, and the horses, as if to fly from ,his wrath, Mashed, Onward to the death to which their every stride was bringing them. Ah, what a wild, mad scene it must have been. The flying h*rses, the raving demon on the' ),ox, pouring out horribWoaths, and lashing them like a fiend, as if to urge them beyond their utmost, and the poor demented maid in the carriage behind, moaning and shrieking by turns, and praying to the merciful/ Heaven that insensibility might come and spare her of the horror. But- 'there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip,' for it so happened that Will o' the Jfight had resolved to wait that evening for " such guc&fs as should return to their homes after the ball at Lord Falmouth's was over. As he rode in sight of the old disused" road he saw in the clear moonlight the flying carriage driven by Sir Mprmaduke Wade, and thinking it was a party of young bloods who had been imbibing too deeply and had mistaken the road, he at once decided to ride after them, warn them of their danger, while he could at^ the same time relieve them of their purses. When he came to the joining of the two roads he saw a man staring aft<n- the receding carriage, with horror pictured on his countenance. The man seemed almost frozen with horror, b.it from the incoherent information he gave" Will gathered that there was villainy afoot, and a lady was in danger, so away he galloped in their wake. He knew he had not an instant to lose, for every stride was bringing them nearer to the gulch and destruction, so he spoke softly to liis horse, and the noble beast, as if understanding what ,was required of him, galloped onward at his utmost pace. Straining his beautiful neck, he still continued to fly onward like a thing of the air, softly encouraged by caressing words from his master, till now, at last, j they wore within hailing distance. But I there, a few hundred yards ahead of them, was the awful gulch. Could he reaen thepi in time to save? He called to the driver, but -he only lashed the hoibes more furiously. Still he galloped forward till he drew to the back of the (■OTi'iigp. and once more he tailed on the 1 m;.niae in pull up, but the only reply NomJisafcd was a curse. Sir Marmaduke was standing up, lashing the horses, and as he stood Will o' the Night drew his nistol and shot him through the brain. The unhappy wretch dropped from the ferriage to the roadside, and lav where ho fell. But the horses still galloped on their way to destruction, and the only possible way to prevent them from plunginu into the ravine, which was now only a short space ahead of them, wa"s to treat them the same as the driver, so before another second had elapsed they were both rolling in their death agony. It was with a pane; at heart that Will o' the Night pulled the trigger on the poor J'cnstd, for they were not to blame for tlip wrong they were forced to do. He held to extiicate tha Lady Afolly from the carriage, however, before he had time to moralise, and the poor maid at once swooned away at tho sopne of blood and | horror around h.:i\ Bnt Will o' the Night, now gentle as a woman, soon brought her round acain. He lifted her upon his horse, and. mounting behind her. was soon travelling back over the road he came. He had made up his mind i tj conduct her to her home, but before hi reached it he met her father, her cousin, and some guests, who had become

alarmed at -the long absence of Lady Molly and Sir Marmaduke. - " 'Allow me .to return you your daughter, sir/ said Will o' the Night with His most courtly bow, as he dismounted and assisted the lady to do the same. "The Lady Molly at once recounted all that had occurred, suppressing only the name of her benefactor.

" 'Pray, sir,' said Lord Falmouth, turning again to Will o' the Night when she had finished, 'I hope you will not depart without letting us' know to whom "we owe our gratitude.' " 'Know you shall, sir,' quoth Will in reply, springing upon his horse and fingering the pistols he had taken the precaution to load before he returned with the Lady Molly. 'I am a gentleman whom Fortune has forced to follow a scurvy trade, and what's more, gentlemen, I never let an opportunity slip to ply it, as to do so would break a^ vow I've made. I ride under the name of Will o* the Night, and, ■■ as .a man of honour, I cannot break a vow. ' So now, gentlemen-, your purses.' /;• "As he sat .whimsically smiling at the astonished faces, which gazed along the pistol barrels which were pointing at them, he made a handsome picture. Gaily dressed in the fashion of the time, and seated on, Tiis' superb^ bhick- charger, iie was indeed as"* 'faithful .^ ..the! dare-devil buck as ever tossed the dice or drained a wineglass. "The astonished' gioup at Once" came forward,, one* bygone* and handed him such valuables as they happened to have aSout them. The Lady Molly crept closer to her cousin and whispered softly to him, 1 forbade you to speak love to me till you had . captured him, Ned, but now I'll never marry you if you obey that command.' They whispered soft nothings to £ach other for a few moments, and .when $hey looked up Will o' the Night was gone."