The Highwayman's Hostage

Chapter 2

The ride was bumpy and quite unpleasant, but Felicity and Bess somehow managed to stick out the poorly made roads. They talked and laughed, they gossiped and they discussed news idly for two hours before the conversation came to an awkward stop. It was a rare event for Felicity and Bess to run out of things to say, but on this occasion that's exactly what happened. With nothing better to say, Bess reluctantly brought up the topic of the Essex gang and the capture of most of its members.

"A few of them are still on the loose, you know, including that Dick Turpin." Felicity related. "John Wheeler was captured the other day along with a few others."

"Yes, I heard about that. You know, rumour has it that Turpin's trying his hand at highway robbery!" Bess said, though she looked around nervously when she said this, as if he would magically appear with a pistol.

"And he does all of his work around this area. Oh Lord!" Felicity cried. "There he is!" Bess's eyes widened and a pathetic whimper escaped her mouth as she turned around to face an empty landscape. "Boo!" Felicity yelled playfully, causing Bess to jump and let out a short scream.

"Floss!" Bess protested, calling Felicity by her nickname. "Don't do that; you terrified me." She straightened her bonnet haughtily and glanced anxiously out the window.

"Fine, I'm sorry." She said, repressing an unapologetic smile.

An hour later, the two sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. In Felicity's case they were thoughts of the town they were headed to, but in Bess's case they were thoughts of the frightful nightmares. She desperately hoped that she would not encounter them in the next fortnight. An agitated neigh from the horses snapped both of them out of their daydreams.

"Stand and deliver!" Shouted the voice of a man from a few metres away. Felicity started and peered out of the window, but Bess screamed and shrank back against Felicity.

"Oh dear Lord! What do we do?" Her heart pounded wildly, for she knew exactly what they were up against. A pistol fired and an invisible bullet headed straight for the groom but it sailed just above his head and hit the top of the coach instead.

"Run!" Felicity ordered. She flung open the coach door and stumbled out, pulling Bess along behind her. Dust flew up behind him as they sprinted for their lives and riches, panting and sobbing. Bess clutched at the satchel hanging from her wrist which contained a pistol loaded with one bullet — a bullet that could make the difference between life or death. The sound of horses hooves thundering along the dirt road came from somewhere, in the panicked frenzy, Bess couldn't quite tell where, but it soon become evident. They had only gotten twenty or so metres away when a great brown beast of a horse came galloping out of the trees. On it sat a man wearing a dark green coat and armed with a gun. He seemed to be about five foot eleven with a squarish head and blonde floppy hair tied behind him in a ponytail. A three point hat was worn upon his head. The two girls skittered to a halt.

"Dick, are you sure we should rob 'em? Pretty young maidens like them. S'not the honourable thing to do." The blonde man yelled to the man who had originally attacked.

"We're criminals, we were never honourable!" Argued the other man who spoke with a slightly posher accent. He had incredibly broad shoulders and well defined cheekbones, though he was quite short. On his head he wore a light coloured wig and around his body was a clean blue coat. If they weren't firing bullets at two vulnerable women, they could've easily been mistaken for gentlemen. The blonde one shrugged and jumped off his mount.

"Well then, it seems you'll be leaving without a few of your things today. Go on then, your money or your life." He waited patiently with his arms crossed casually whilst Felicity and Bess relieved themselves of the jewellery they wore. Bess found it particularly difficult to part with her extravagantly beautiful necklace. The other man, who seemed to be called Dick, having bound the poor groom, came riding over with a mean look on his face. His face was slightly tanned and was host to mesmerising black eyes. The blonde one was distracted for a moment as he watched Dick ride over. Seizing the chance, Bess snatched the pistol from her satchel, which she had yet to hand over, and fired straight at Dick. He was shot right in the arm. An unseemly red stain grew on the sleeve of his expensive looking blue coat as he clutched at it with his free hand. Furiously, Dick took hold of his other gun and pointed it straight at Bess. Why had she not just given over her stuff? Just as he was about to fire, the blonde man cried out. "Come on, Dick! Don't shoot them!"