We were in a dark lane--so dark that it was impossible for me to see my own hand.

Apprehensive that some accident might occur, I ran forward, and, seizing the pony by the bridle, drew him as near as I could to the hedge.

On came the hoofs--trot, trot, trot; and evidently more than those of one horse; their speed as they advanced appeared to slacken--it was only, however, for a moment.

I heard a voice cry, "Push on,--this is a desperate robbing place,--never mind the dark;" and the hoofs came on quicker than before.

"Stop!" said I, at the top of my voice; "stop! or--" Before I could finish what I was about to say there was a stumble, a heavy fall, a cry, and a groan, and putting out my foot I felt what I conjectured to be the head of a horse stretched upon the road.