B. Fletcher Robinson

“ The man never moved from where he stood, but the woman ran toward him, crying, with outstretched arms. The traveler was out of the saddle in a flash and slipped an arm about her, for she seemed near to falling.
"Save me," she said, "for the love of heaven."
"Faith, madam, an' I will be blithe to do so," said Mr. O'Halloran. He looked down at her with satisfaction. She was indeed a fine woman, though not in her first youth.
The man advanced from beneath the shadow of the corpse, dropping his cloak as he did so. ”

“ On a little plateau some fifty paces from the road and circled by a rising slope, stood a gallows whereon hung the body of a man. The sight was familiar; by such means were the highways rightfully protected. But the corpse did not swing unattended. A few paces from the foot of the gibbet were two figures, the one erect, wrapped in a trailing cloak, the other crouching to some labor. ”

“ O'Halloran slipped off his cloak, drew his sword, and stepped forward with a lean activity. He made a pretty figure of a man as he stood in the moonlight, examining the ground. The moor was rough with tufted heather, save for a level patch in the midst of which the gibbet had been planted. ”

“ Heavens, sir, does not the devil's opportunity lie in old men's follies? He had met the lady at a rout at York. He knew naught of her but that she was bold in spirit and pleasing to the eye. His elder son, a soldier serving abroad, saw neither the wooing nor the wedding ”