Winter Wonderland by Elizabeth; Mansfield Page B

Barnaby muttered to the lady, “you should have gone off with your admirer.”
    Miranda threw Barnaby a startled look and opened her mouth to make a reply, but before she could do so, the tall highwayman swung round to Barnaby. “Still yer clapper!” he snapped. “Not one word or one move more, or it’ll be the worser fer ye. Keep yer weapon on ’im, Japhet, while I go through ’is pockets.”
    Barnaby’s pockets produced the best of the loot. The highwayman gurgled with pleasure at the purse he found, heavy with guineas. And when he saw Barnaby’s watch, gleaming with heavy gold and attached to a chain that bore a beautiful, jewel-studded fob (a gift from the Earl on the occasion of Barnaby’s thirtieth birthday), he turned to Japhet with a shout of triumph. “Will ye clamp yer peepers on this ?” he chortled.
    Barnaby, cold, furious and humiliated, could bear no more. Grasping the fellow by the back of his collar, he pulled him around and landed him a facer on the side of his jaw. The miscreant staggered back, dizzied. Barnaby struck the fellow’s arm a smart blow that sent the watch and chain flying from his hand. At the same moment, he made a lunge for the pistol. But the second felon, Japhet, shook himself into action and swung the butt of his pistol at Barnaby’s head. Barnaby fell down, stunned.
    He tried to lift his head, but the motion made the world spin round at so terrifying a speed he had to close his eyes. He dropped his head with a groan. When he opened his eyes again, he was staring into the barrel of Japhet’s pistol. Off to the side the other footpad was digging about among the dead leaves and foliage at the edge of the road, evidently searching for the watch that Barnaby had made him drop. “Put the bullet in ’is noddle an’ be done,” he was saying, “so you can come over ’ere and ’elp me search.”
    Japhet cocked the pistol and aimed. Barnaby tensed. With a cry, the lady leaped upon the felon and knocked his arm aside. Though the report made Barnaby wince and the lady shriek, the bullet flew harmlessly into the air. The other footpad did not even look round. “I found it,” he cried happily, holding up the watch.
    Japhet, enraged by the woman’s interference, pulled Miranda to her feet and lifted his hand to strike her across the face. She lifted her chin arrogantly. “Murderer!” she snapped. “Will you also strike a defenseless woman?”
    â€œFinish ’em off, both of ’em,” the tall highwayman instructed. “Then we won’t ’ave to watch ’em whiles we go through the baggage.”
    â€œThat would be a stupid thing to do,” Barnaby said with deliberate nonchalance. It was a tone he’d learned to use in handling difficult negotiations in the foreign service.
    â€œStupid, eh? Ha! So you say,” the tall highwayman sneered. “I’d say it too in yer place.”
    But Japhet, the other one, was caught by Barnaby’s tone. “Why stupid?” he asked, his interest caught.
    â€œThe coachman managed to hold on to his horses, isn’t that so?” Barnaby reasoned. “Sooner or later he’ll return for his carriage. With his coach and his horses intact, he will have lost nothing belonging to him or to his employer. He’ll probably be content to return to London without further ado. But if he finds two bodies lying here, he will certainly feel compelled to go for the magistrates.”
    The tall highwayman was not impressed. “So we’ll bury yer bodies.”
    â€œIn this frozen ground? It’ll take hours.”
    â€œâ€™E’s right,” Japhet said, looking at his partner worriedly. “That coachy’s a rum cove. ’E mought be back any time soon.”
    The tall footpad considered the situation for a moment. “Then just tie ’em up to that tree,” he said at last,