On descending the south side of the hill the earl and his troop passed through a thick forest, and then entered upon a moor, in the midst of which could be seen a remarkable cluster of rocks. These were Wanny Crags, and on the highest of them floated the king's banner, showing that the insurgents had taken up a position there.

On a nearer approach to this singular station, Forster and his men could be descried, grouped like bandits on the rocks; while a great cleft served as a stable for their horses.

As the earl drew nigh this natural fortress, Forster came down from the lofty point he had occupied and bade him welcome, expressing the greatest satisfaction at beholding him and his friends, and adding, that no doubt now they were come, all would go well.

“You do not mean to pass the night among these rocks, I presume?” said the earl.

“I came hither in the hope of gaining some recruits,” replied Forster, “but have been disappointed. If your lordship had not joined me, I should have returned to Rothbury. But now I think it will be best to proceed to Warkworth. The castle is in our hands, and Lord Widdrington will be there to-morrow with a troop of horse. I hope we shall soon be strong enough to besiege Newcastle.”

“Nothing can be decided upon till our forces are organised, and we can ascertain what assistance we are likely to receive from Scotland,” said Lord Derwentwater. “From what you say, we shall be able to hold a consultation with Lord Widdrington to-morrow, and can be guided by his advice.”

Just then, a sentinel stationed on the highest crag, called out that a troop of horse-militia was coming across the moor on the road from Morpeth, and after Charles Radclyffe had examined the party through a spy-glass he declared it was Sir William Lorraine, and the party he had brought with him to Dilston.

“I recognise Sir William perfectly,” he said.

“And so do I!” cried Squire Hall, taking the spy-glass from him. “And I am quite certain he is now on his way to Otterburn to arrest me. Leave me to deal with him. Let the men conceal themselves behind the rocks, so that he may not suspect the presence of so large a party.”

Since no harm could be done by humouring the eccentric squire, Lord Derwentwater and Mr. Forster complied with his request, and, as he rode off, they concealed their men as he had suggested.

As soon as Sir William Lorraine—for he it undoubtedly was—came in sight of Wanny Crags, he was made aware by the flag that a party of insurgents must be posted there.

But this discovery did not prevent him from going on, as he had no idea the rebels were in any force, and did not imagine they could muster more than a dozen at the outside.

As Squire Hall advanced, he recognised him, and called out to him to stop, but the injunction being disregarded he repeated it more authoritatively.

“You are my prisoner, sir,” he cried. “I hold a warrant for your arrest.”

“I don't think you are likely to execute the warrant, Sir William,” rejoined the squire laughing disdainfully.

“I would not advise you to offer resistance, sir,” said Sir William. “And since there is no chance of escape, you had better surrender at discretion.”

“I surrender!” exclaimed the squire. “I defy you and all your men to arrest me.”

So saying, he wheeled round, and galloped back as fast as he could to Wanny Crags.

The magistrate followed with the whole of his troop. He would not allow them to fire, or the career of the fugitive would soon have been checked.

The squire called out loudly as he drew near the crags, and in answer to the cry, forty or fifty armed insurgents suddenly appeared at various points; while an equal number of horsemen, headed by Lord Derwentwater and Mr. Forster, came from behind the rocks.

Confounded by this unexpected sight, and instantly comprehending the snare into which he had fallen, the magistrate would have fled, but before he could stir, his bridle was seized by Squire Hall, who exclaimed:

“You threatened to arrest me, Sir William. Now you are my prisoner.”

While the magistrate was hesitating, Lord Derwentwater called out:

“Bid your men lay down their arms instantly, Sir William, or we shall fire upon them.”

“Hold! my lord!” exclaimed the squire. “I am very much mistaken if these worthy fellows are not inclined to join us. Save your lives,” he added to the militiamen, “and shout for James the Third!”

“Long live King James!” cried the whole of the troop.

“Ah, traitors! ah, rebels! is it thus you support your king?” cried the magistrate.

“Harkee, Sir William!” cried the squire. “I would recommend you a little more prudence. If you try to take our recruits from us we shall make short work with you. Gentlemen,” he added to the others, “you are now on the right side. Let neither threats nor persuasions lure you from it.”

“Do you propose to detain me, my lord, if I consent to deliver up my arms?” said the magistrate to Lord Der-wentwater.

“No, Sir William,” replied the earl. “I am anxious you should take back tidings of your own defeat to Morpeth. You cannot conceal it, since you will not have your militiamen with you.”

With a deeply mortified look Sir William then delivered his sword to Squire Hall, by whom it was handed to Lord Derwentwater, after which the magistrate rode off by himself, and returned to Morpeth.

A very curious scene now took place, as the late enemies fraternised, and professed the greatest regard for each other. All the militiamen seemed now to be ardent Jacobites.

Greatly rejoiced at obtaining such an unexpected reinforcement, the two leaders did all in their power to conciliate the new recruits, and were by no means sparing in promises.

The party did not remain much longer at Wanny Crags, but proceeded to a hill called the Waterfalls, from the circumstance of a spring running in two different directions. Here they halted for a couple of hours at a large farmhouse.

Thence they marched to Warkworth, their road lying for the most part along the banks of the beautiful river Coquet.