Another man, who seemed to be a leader, called out from his horse,
"Who are you?" but I was too scared to answer; my teeth were rattling
in my head.

"It's a trick," said another voice. "We had best go for the moor."

"Shut up," said the leader, sharply. "The boy's scared."

He got down from his horse, and peered at me by the lantern light.
He, too, wore a bee-skep; in fact, they all did, for there is no
better disguise in the world, while nothing makes a man look more
horrible. I was not quite so terrified by this time, because he had
spoken kindly.

"Who are you?" he asked. "We shan't eat you. What are you doing here?"

As well as I could I told him. The leader strode off a few paces, and
spoke with one or two other men; but I could only catch the words,
"Yes; yes, Captain," spoken in a low, quick voice, which seemed
somehow familiar. Then he came back to me, and took me by the throat,
and swayed me to and fro, very gently, but in a way which made me feel
that I was going to be killed.

"Tell me," he said, "I shall know whether you're lying, so tell the
truth, now. What have you seen to-night?"

I told him that I had seen a troop of horsemen going through the snow
towards the moor.

"That settles it, Captain," said another voice. "You can't trust a