"So /you/ then betrayed me," he said, very slowly, and directed his
pistol to the head of the dismounted horseman.

"No, no!" cried one of the officers, for such were Darvil's assailants;
"fire away in this direction, my hearty--we're paid for it. The
gentleman knew nothing at all about it."

"Nothing, by G--!" cried the banker, startled out of his sanctity.

"Then I shall keep my shot," said Darvil; "and mind, the first who
approaches me is a dead man."

It so happened that the robber and the officers were beyond the distance
which allows sure mark for a pistol-shot, and each party felt the
necessity of caution.

"Your time is up, my swell cove!" cried the head of the detachment; "you
have had your swing, and a long one it seems to have been--you must now
give in. Throw down your barkers, or we must make mutton of you, and
rob the gallows."

Darvil did not reply, and the officers, accustomed to hold life cheap,
moved on towards him--their pistols cocked and levelled.

Darvil fired--one of the men staggered and fell. With a kind of
instinct Darvil had singled out the one with whom he had before wrestled
for life. The ruffian waited not for the others--he turned and fled
along the fields.

"Zounds, he is off!" cried the other two, and they rushed after him in