This story or tale is based on The Highwayman and non of the names belong to me but the writer of the poem/story, Alfred Noyes. I have also used parts of the poem to help make ta story a bit better. Please enjoy :) Introduction. The leaves blew against the whispers of the wind tossing them in a way that made them dance like puppets attached to unbreakable strings. The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. The road stretched for miles on end and was tinted over the purple moor. All was quiet save for the heavy hooves galloping against the aging road. Mounted upon the steed was The Highwayman. His dark curls flew in the howling wind. He wore a cocked-French hat at his forehead and a black handkerchief that only revealed his hazel eyes, a bunch of lace at his chin, a coat of crimson velvet and breeches of dark brown. His dusty boots were up to his thigh and he rode with an unimaginable grace. His pistol butts, strapped in at his waist, twinkled under the jeweled sky. The Highwayman came ridding, ridding up to the old inn-door.