[OOC: Wrote this out of boredom forever ago, but since I am meant to be revising and am an ace at doing anything but i decided to go find this and put it on here... i still insist it makes no sense, but yeah some rambles about highwaymen xP Oh and poem section is from the Highwayman (conveniently) and it makes it look longer so meh xDD If i ever write more i'll put another section in ^^]
I
THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
The carriage made its way across the moor in the still of night, its driver impatient for their soon arrival. The moon was high in the sky, and yet the wind would not calm and, although he considered himself not to be a superstitious man, their haste would prove otherwise. Visions of ghostly creatures appeared in his mind, and as the wind howled around him he couldn’t help but jump in response. There was also the perhaps more imminent threat of the highwaymen, who lurked on roads like these, yet for the driver, fixated by the wind and ere of moonlight, his only concern lay with the supernatural.
Following, swiftly from behind, a horseman came riding along the path. The moor was relatively flat, and his eye could see the carriage even from such a distance. Hands gripped tightly to the reigns, he ordered his horse to hurry onwards in pursuit. He had spent a long journey alone, to London and back, without such an opportunity. Soon he would return to Kent, and it would be disappointing to arrive empty handed. The carriage was clearly wealthy, even if it be meagre, and in the dead of night like this there was little in the way of protection to cause him any problems.
From inside the carriage, the lady and her father sat patiently awaiting their arrival. They were to visit a friend of theirs in the neighbouring county for a fortnight, and yet tonight of all nights the weather had forced them to resign in a nearby inn. The wind outside howled, making the older man weary of the time, and the young lady impatient. Already they had been travelling for several hours, and it was becoming tiresome.
Knocking on the window, the gentlemen called out to his driver, wary that if they did not arrive soon then they would almost certainly be grounded by the wind. Instead of a reply the carriage abruptly came to a stop. The man shouted out in protest, yet there was no reply. Straining his ear to try and comprehend what had happened, he leant towards the door, but the howl of wind prevented any sounds from being heard. Instead they sat in silence, until eventually they could hear the sound of boots slowly heading towards the carriage door.
Eventually it opened yet, instead of the driver as they were expecting, a young man greeted them, pointing a bayonet into the chest of the young girl. He was finely dressed, wearing a laced shirt and velvet coat, implying his wealth, and yet he smiled at them charmingly demanding simply, ‘your money or your life!’ He smirked with such arrogance that it was clear he had done this many times, and the couple could only oblige to hand over what they had on them since they were unarmed. His new-fangled weapon had been no match for the swords of the coachmen, and being attacked by surprise had meant that they had had little time to react.
When they had handed over all the money they could give the man was still pointing his weapon at the couple, before notioning towards the young woman’s jewelled earrings and necklace. Although she protested, she begrudgingly handed them over on the word of her father, who was nervously still looking at the weapon pointed at her.
Taking the earnings in his hand, the man kissed the lady’s hand, before bowing and quickly disappearing in the night. Nervously heading outside, the man discovered his driver and coachmen tied to the carriage, and the thief quickly escaping by horse, soon clouded by the insetting fog of night. With little to do but untie them, they could only watch as their thief escaped unharmed.
The highwayman quickly fled the scene, aware that if he were to be caught hanging was almost a certainty. Luckily the couple had carried substantial change, and the carriage had held a beautiful woman furthermore. Now he had to hurry to Kent, before the week was out. In the still of night he hurried on, impatience willing him forwards against the weather, until he had all but disappeared into the fog.
