Boots, cap, cloak, and feather, were all of the same dusky hue.

His frame was strongly built, and besides the caliver he was armed with sword and poniard.

Altogether, he constituted an unpleasant obstacle in the way.
Dick Taverner was not able to render much assistance on the occasion.
The suddenness with which the masked horseman burst forth upon them scared his horse; and the animal becoming unmanageable, began to rear, and finally threw its rider to the ground--luckily without doing him much damage.
Meanwhile the horseman, lowering his caliver, thus addressed Jocelyn, who, taking him for a robber, was prepared to resist the attack.
"You are mistaken in me, Master Jocelyn Mounchensey," he said; "I have no design upon your purse.

I call upon you to surrender yourself my prisoner." "Never, with life," the young man replied.

"In spite of your disguise, I recognise you as one of Sir Giles Mompesson's myrmidons; and you may conclude from our former encounter, whether my resistance will be determined or not." "You had not escaped on that occasion, but for my connivance, Master Jocelyn," the man in the mask rejoined.