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Joan, The Curate.

Cursemother, who was one of the mounted ones, took warning by this, and swung himself off his horse.

In truth, none of them were more efficient as horsemen than kegs of their own contraband spirits would have been; and Gardener Tom, who kept his saddle on account of his lameness, contented himself with a passive share in the business, by standing in the road with his pistol cocked, waiting for a chance of aiming at Tregenna without risking the maiming of his own comrades.

Meantime, however, Robin had attacked the lieutenant fiercely in front, while little mean-faced Bill Plunder, creeping through the brushwood, struck at him from behind.

Tregenna, thus attacked by the two, defended himself with vigor, and had dealt an effective blow at Bill's shoulder, when a strange diversion occurred.

There was the sound of a galloping horse's hoofs, of the splashing and churning up of the mud and water in the road. The next moment Joan's horse dashed into the midst of the group, causing the animal Jack Price rode to start off at a smart pace; and Joan herself,