"You villain," the young man dauntlessly cried, "let go my bridle-rein!
Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm Dick Darkly," answered a deep, gruff voice, "and I want your
heart's blood!"

"You poaching scoundrel!" exclaimed Sir Everard, quick as lightning
raising his riding-whip and slashing the aggressor across the face.
"Let go my horse's head."

With a cry that was like the roar of a wild beast the man sprung hack.
The next instant, with a horrible oath, he had seized the young man and
torn him out of the saddle.

"I'll tear you limb from limb for that blow, by heavens!" Dick Darkly
shouted. "If I hadn't meant to kill you before, I would kill you for
that cut of your whip. I've waited for you, Sir Everard Kingsland! I
swore revenge, and revenge I'll have! I'll kill you this night, if
they hang me for it to-morrow!"

He held his victim in a grip of iron, from which he struggled madly to
get free, while the horse, with a shrill neigh of terror, started off
riderless.

"I swore I'd kill you, Sir Everard Kingsland," Dick Darkly growled,
"when you put my poor brother in Worrel Jail for snaring the miserable
rabbits to keep his sick wife and children from starving. I swore it,
and I'll keep my oath. You told your gamekeeper this very day you
would lash me like a dog, and duck me after. Aha, Sir Everard!