Three men with blackened faces sprang out from different places, and the crackling of the underwood showed that more were lurking out of sight.
Tom took steady aim, and brought down the foremost villain at the first shot; but Robin was not so lucky.

He winged his man, but did not drop him, and the next moment four stalwart figures had sprung out to the aid of their comrades, and the travellers were surrounded.
Tom set his teeth hard, a great fury in his heart.

He took aim again, and another of his assailants dropped as he pulled the trigger; then, setting spurs to Wildfire, who was well-nigh distracted with terror at the noise and the flash in the darkness, he rode clean over the man who had sprung at his bridle rein, and calling to Robin to follow him, he sped away in the darkness at a pace which was risk to life and limb.
The footpads seemed taken aback by this move, for they had reckoned that a headlong flight into the recesses of the forest would be too great a peril to be risked; and indeed it was a headstrong course to take.

But Tom was in a headstrong mood, and his horse was beside himself with fear.

Both man and beast were well used to reckless riding, and Tom had eyes like a cat, whilst Wildfire had both the wonderful sight and wonderful instinct of his race.