"If you had asked me," replied Sherbrooke, "I would have told you that
long ago: pray who are you?"

"I am Frank Bryerly," replied the man: "hold your hands, hold your hands
every one, and let us see what mischief's done! Dick Harrison, I
believe, is down. Devilish unfortunate, Sherbrooke, that you did not
speak."

"Speak!" returned Sherbrooke, "what should I speak for? these are not
times for speaking over much."

"I am not hurt, I am not hurt!" cried the man called Harrison; "but hang
him, I believe he has killed my horse, and the horse had well nigh
killed me, for he reared and went over with me at the shot:--get up,
brute, get up!" and he kicked the horse in the side to make him rise. Up
started the beast upon his feet in a moment, trembling in every limb,
but still apparently not much hurt; and upon examination it proved that
the ball had struck him in the fleshy part of the shoulder, producing a
long, but not a deep wound, and probably causing the animal to rear by
the pain it had occasioned.

As soon as this was explained satisfactorily, a somewhat curious scene
was presented, by Leonard Sherbrooke standing in the midst of his
assailants, and shaking hands with two of them as old friends, while the
third was presented to him with all the form and ceremony of a new
introduction. But such things, alas! were not uncommon in those days;
and gentlemen of high birth and education have been known to take to the
King's Highway--not like Prince Hal, for sport, but for a mouthful of
bread.