The seasons of the year seemed to take their tone from the spirit of the times and the discord that was raging throughout the land. The summer was gloomy and full of storms. Instead of bright sunshine and smiling skies, heavy clouds had been gathering over the heavens from the beginning of the year; and although every now and then a warm and splendid day, such as that which we have described in the beginning of this tale, broke in upon the heavy aspect of the summer, as if to remind man of fairer and happier times, yet week after week passed in tempests, rain, and gloom; and signs and portents, such as might have alarmed nations in more superstitious days, were seen in the sky, and filled the hearts of the more timid with apprehension.

It was upon the morning of one of these sad and frowning days that a troop of horse, consisting of about a hundred and fifty men, well armed and mounted, took its way across a wide and somewhat barren plain about forty miles to the north-east of Bishop's Merton, encumbered with a good deal of baggage, and escorting two or three of the heavy carriages of the times, in which were some six or seven women. The prospect was wide and dreary, extending in a number of grey lines which afforded the eye no pleasing object to rest upon, except here and there a little mound or tumulus bearing on its top a clump of black-looking trees. In the distance was a range of low wood, apparently stunted and withered by the chilling blasts which swept over the plain; and a piece of water of some extent was seen glistening on the right, with the sandy road, along which the cavalcade took its way, winding between the mere and the wood. No hedgerows broke the wide extent, and the ground appeared to be somewhat marshy, for numerous ditches intersected it in every direction, and a large trench ran along on either side of the path, with here and there a small wooden bridge to cross from the sandy highway to the green turf of the plain.

The progress of the party was not very quick, for, as we have said, the carriages were heavy, and their wheels, as well as those of the two or three carts and waggons, sank deep in the loose and shifting soil of the road. By the side of the foremost of the carriages generally rode a cavalier, with whom the reader is already acquainted under the name of Lord Walton, and ever and anon he laid his hand upon the heavy door, and spoke in at the window to his sister or to Arrah Neil, the latter seldom replying except by a monosyllable or a look. Annie Walton, however, conversed with him gaily and lightly; not that her heart was by any means at ease, or her bosom without its apprehensions; but she was well aware that her brother was grieved for all the inconvenience that she suffered, and for the danger to which she was exposed; and, with kindly and generous feeling towards him, she made as little as possible of every annoyance on the march, concealed all the fears that she might experience, and seemed unconscious of the perils of the way. She might not, it is true, deceive her brother as to her own sensations, for he knew her well, and understood her kindness and devotion; but still it made the burden lighter to him to hear no murmur, and to witness no terror.

From time to time, during the march of the two preceding days, some of the rumours which, true and false alike, always run through a country in a state of agitation, had reached Lord Walton's party, speaking of troops marching hither and thither in the neighbourhood. Now it was a detachment from Lord Essex's army; now it was a body of men crossing the country, to reinforce Waller; now it was a body of militia called out by parliamentary commissioners from the district or the county through which they were passing. But Lord Walton paid little attention to these reports, having taken every necessary precaution, by throwing out several small parties in front, at the distance of about two or three miles, to guard against surprise, and secure his onward course towards Coventry.

When any rumour reached him, indeed, which bore more strongly the semblance of truth than the rest, and was corroborated by his own knowledge of the position and designs of the various persons to whom it referred, he would ride forward to the head of the line, and converse for a few minutes with a thin, bony, grave-looking personage in black, who bore few signs of being a military man, except his large boots of untanned leather, his heavy steel-mounted sword, and the pistols at his saddle-bow. Thus, when they had got about half way across the plain, and a horseman galloped up from the right, leaping one or two narrow ditches by which it was intersected, and then, not able to cross the wider trench which separated the road from the turf, riding along by the side of the troop, and making signs to Charles Walton that he had something to communicate, the young nobleman accordingly reined in his horse, and suffering his party to pass on, lingered behind till they were out of ear-shot.

"Well, Master Hurst," he then asked, "what is your news? I was sorry you would not join us; but I am glad to see you here."

"I told Langan I would follow you, my lord," replied the new-comer; "but I had to put my house in order, and sell some hay, for it does not do to go soldiering in these times without money in one's pocket, and I had but short notice. However, my lord, you had better be on your guard; for, as I came over the moor, I found a boy keeping sheep out there between the wood and the water, and, wishing to know whereabouts you were, for I could not see you at that time----"

"You did not mention my name, I hope," said Lord Walton.

"Oh, no, my lord," answered the horseman; "I took care not to do that: I only asked if he had seen a body of soldiers, without saying horse or foot. So the boy said, 'Oh, yes; that there were five hundred and fifty lying behind the wood,' for he had counted them, seemingly--like a flock of sheep. Then I asked him how many horse there were; to which he replied by saying, 'Two,' and that all the rest had guns and bandoliers and steel caps, except a few, who had long pikes in their hands."

"This seems serious," replied Lord Walton; "we must look to this intelligence."

"There is more serious work behind, my lord," replied Hurst; "for this news gave me the key to what I saw myself in the morning. These musketeers are not alone. They have got cavalry for their support, my lord, or I am much mistaken: not two hours ago I saw the tail of a troop going into the little village, the spire of which you can just see rising up there. I should have taken them for your men but that they were coming the contrary road; so I avoided the village for fear of worse."

"Well, Hurst, ride on to the next bridge," said Lord Walton, "and then join me on the road with Major Randal, whom I must consult on our proceedings."

Thus saying, he spurred on his horse, and galloped forward to the head of the line, where, pulling up by the side of our spare friend in black, he communicated to him all that he had just heard.

"Ah!" said Randal, in his usual dry and deliberate tone, "ah! Five hundred and fifty musketeers--rather better, than three to one. That would not matter if the ground were fair; but these ditches, these ditches! they are awkward things in the way of cavalry; if our horses could leap them as easily as their shot, the matter would soon be settled. Does any one know what the ground is like there? They will gall us sadly if we have to expose our flank to the wood."

"I fear so, indeed," replied Lord Walton; "but perhaps, if I were to pass the next bridge, take a circuit round and dislodge them, while you pursue your way along the road, we might contrive to get into better fighting ground."

"Let us see what it is like first," said Randal: "here comes your newsmonger, my lord; we shall learn more from him. Now, master yeoman, how does the land lie about the wood? is there good room for a charge, or is it cut up like this?"

"Between the wood and the road," answered Hurst, "it is just like a gridiron, with ditches enough to drain the sea."

"And behind the wood, do you know anything of that?" continued Randal.

"It is good enough there," said the horseman, divining the object of his question, "but you cannot get at it for the river.

"They have some good soldiers amongst them," said Randal. "Such ground was not chosen by one of the old bottle-nosed serving-men of London."

"They must have good intelligence, too," said Lord Walton, "to fix so exactly on a point where they can best attack us. If it were not for my sister and the women, we might take their fire in passing, and get into the good ground beyond; but the carriages and baggage would prove a sad encumbrance."

"Ah, women, women!" cried Randal, "they are the causes of all the mischief in the world. However, we must dispose of them, and must take our resolution quickly; there is no going back now, my lord, and we must make our way forward at whatever risk. Luckily, you have brought all the spare horses and the women's saddles; they must quit the carriages and mount. As for the baggage, it must take its chance and belong to the winners."

"But I cannot expose my sister," exclaimed Lord Walton, "to such an affair as this--she can go back to the village."

"No, no," said Randal, quickly; "there is no need of that; this good yeoman can guide her round with the rest of the women, while we make our way forward, and do the best that we can with these gentry in front. They will not chase her if we keep on our way; but if we quit the road, they will of course draw to their left and cut us off between the causeway and the water. Now, my lord, be quick; get them out and away: I will send a dozen of my men to escort them, with Barecolt at their head. 'Tis the best task for him; for, though he does not want courage, with women he will have room to talk, and that is his chief occupation. He may lie, too, there, as much as he likes, and nobody will find him out. Now, master yeoman, you be guide--lead these ladies over the moor, round by the back of that great pond, and into the open ground above it. When you get to that mound with the trees on it, you may halt a bit, and watch what we are about on the road. If you see that we get the worst, put to the spur, and gallop on till you rejoin the Coventry road, then on as fast as may be to the king, who will be in Coventry by noon to-morrow. If you see we make good our ground, come back and join us."

"But there are horse in that village, sir," answered Hurst.

"That can't be helped," replied Randal; "we have no other chance. Besides, they may be our people as well as the enemy's.--Stay; it may be as well to see: I will send on Barecolt, while you halt on the hill. He can play either part--swear and swagger like the most licentious Cavalier, or cant and pule like the most starched Puritan."

While this conversation had been taking place, the party had not ceased to advance slowly along the road; but the order to halt was now given, and preparations were made for carrying into execution the plan decided upon. The carriages were stopped, Miss Walton and her attendants were placed hastily upon the spare horses which had been brought from Bishop's Merton, and the small body under Captain Barecolt were drawn out, and commanded to fall into the rear. Annie Walton did all that she was told to do without a word; but she looked in her brother's face, as he placed her on horseback, and, bending down her beautiful head, kissed his cheek, while a silent, irrepressible tear rose in her eye.

"Do not fear, Annie--do not, fear," said Charles Walton; "we will soon put these fellows to the rout."

But it is vain, in moments of danger and difficulty, to commend courage to those who, by fate or situation, are doomed to inactivity; for they must still feel for those that they love, if not for themselves; and though Miss Walton considered not for one moment the personal peril which she encountered, her heart beat with apprehensions for her brother, which no words could quiet or remove. Lord Walton then turned to Arrah Neil, who was already mounted, and leaning his hand on the horse's neck, he asked--"Can you manage the horse, my poor Arrah? had you not better ride behind a trooper?"

"Oh, no," she said; "no, I can ride quite well--I remember now;" and, indeed, the manner in which she held her rein, the ease and grace with which she sat the horse, and the command which she had over it, though a powerful and spirited animal, clearly showed that at some time she must have been well accustomed to such exercise.

Lord Walton looked down with a thoughtful expression of countenance, as if there were something that puzzled him. But just at that moment Major Randal rode up, exclaiming.--"We must lose no more time, my lord; if we halt any longer here, they may see what we are about, and act accordingly. I shall order the troop to advance, for women are always slow, and they must come after us as they can, till they reach the little bridge up yonder. Let the carts and carriages come first, and the women can bring up the rear. Now, mark ye, Barecolt, follow this good yeoman, with the ladies under your charge, till you reach that little mound with the trees on the right. You can deliver your stomach by the way of any of the wild imaginations that may fret you; but when you get to the mound you must give up talking, and, riding on to the village alone, make use of your wits, if you have any left, to ascertain whether there be a troop of horse in it, and of what side."

"Alone?" said Barecolt.

"To be sure," answered Randal, with a laugh; "the man who preached in the morning at Rochelle, and defeated the Papists in the evening, who defended the pass in the Cevennes single-handed against a whole army, may well go on alone to reconnoitre a handful of cavalry. Besides, it will make you careful, Master Barecolt, when you know that your own life depends on your own tongue."

"It has often done that," answered Barecolt. "I remember, when I was in Spain, being attacked by some twenty banditti, and putting my back against a rock----"

"March!" cried Randal, interrupting him; "tell that to the girls. It will do to pass the time as well as any other lie;" and riding on, he led the way, while Lord Walton continued by his sister's side, till, reaching the little bridge, the good farmer, Hurst, turned off from the road into the meadows, followed by the young lady, her servants, and the escort.

With anxious eyes Annie Walton and Arrah Neil watched the advance of the larger party of horse towards the wood before them, although neither of them had heard the exact cause of alarm, or was aware of where the danger was to be apprehended, or what was its nature. All they knew was, that peril lay upon the onward road; and, notwithstanding all the assiduities of Captain Barecolt, who, riding by their side wherever the space admitted it, endeavoured to entertain them with some of the monstrous fictions in which his imagination was accustomed to indulge, they listened not to his tales, they scarcely even heard his words, but, their eyes turned constantly to the road they had just quitted, pursued a path, forming with it an acute angle, which led round the back of a large piece of water that lay gleaming before them.

Once or twice they had to dismount, and lead their horses over the little wooden bridges which crossed the ditches intersecting the plain; and more than once, where these were so insecure as to give way under the horses' feet, they were forced to quit their direct line, and take a circuit. Nevertheless, as they cantered quickly over the turf between, they had reached the little tree-covered knoll which had been pointed out as their halting-place, before the troop which was pursuing the high-road had arrived at the spot where the low wood we have mentioned skirted the way.

That wood did not, indeed, approach close to the road, but lay at the distance of from a hundred to a hundred and fifty yards on the left, extending parallel with it for nearly a quarter of a mile, and having a green meadow, and the continuation of the broad trench we have mentioned between. A river of some width, flowing from the right, crossed the highway under a bridge of two arches, at a short distance from the wood; and at the moment that Miss Walton and her companions reached the mound, the head of her brother's troop was about three hundred yards from this bridge.

Knowing well that Major Randal was not a man to be trifled with, Captain Barecolt, as soon as they had arrived at the appointed place, took a flowery and ceremonious leave of Miss Walton, and rode on towards the village of which they had now a better view than before. The young lady's eyes, however, were still fixed upon her brother's troop, as she remained half-way up the little mound, with her horse turned towards the road and her maids behind, Arrah Neil upon her left hand, and the small party of troopers a little in advance.

They had continued this for some four or five minutes in breathless expectation of what was to come next, when they perceived the troop brought to a sudden halt, and an apparent consultation take place at the head of the little column. At that moment Annie Walton heard one of the troopers just before her say aloud--"They have barricaded the bridge, that's clear enough."

"Good God!" she exclaimed; "what will they do?"

But the man, although he heard her words, only turned his head over his shoulder to give her a look, without making any reply.

"There is a little path, lady," said one of the maids, who, placed higher up the hill, saw more distinctly the ground beneath--"there is a little path down from the side of the bridge into the meadows below: if they were to take that they could get out of the way of the wood, and I should think could cross the river, for it spreads out there so wide it must be shallow."

"They do not see it," said Annie Walton; "they do not see it for the bank."

Almost as she spoke a considerable body of foot drew out from the wood, and a party of about a hundred men running forward, drew up in line close to the bridge, and opened a fire of musketry upon the small troop of cavalry which occupied the road. Several horses at the head of the line were seen to plunge violently, and one fell with its rider. The next instant the whole were in motion, a charge was made upon the bridge, and for a few moments all was confusion and disarray, in which they could only see that the Cavaliers had recourse to their pistols, and were endeavouring apparently to force the barricade.

"Oh! the path, the path!" cried Annie Walton. "If any man will ride and tell them of the path, and that they can ford the river below, I will give him a hundred crowns."

One of the troopers was instantly dashing forward, but the man who had been left in command called him back, saying that they had been ordered to remain there, and must obey. By this time the charge had been repulsed, and the Cavaliers were retreating under a heavy fire in some disarray. They formed again with great rapidity, however, behind the waggons and carriages.

Miss Walton remonstrated against the recal of her messenger; but without waiting to hear the reply, Arrah Neil exclaimed--"I will go, dear lady; I will go! and shaking her rein, she put the horse to its speed, and darted forward before any one could stop her.

"I will go, too!" cried Annie Walton. "Why should she risk her life, and a sister fear?" and thus saying, she struck her horse with a whip and followed. In a moment, without uttering a word, the stout yeoman, Hurst, was by the lady's side; but Arrah Neil outsped them both, and and rode direct for the path she had observed. Without fear, without pause, the devoted girl rode on, although as soon as ever she was perceived from the bridge the shots began to drop around her, for her object was instantly divined, and no consideration for her sex restrained the soldiery.

"This way, lady, this way!" cried Hurst, turning to the left; "we can speak to them over the dike, and we shall be farther from the fire."

They were now within a few hundred yards of Lord Walton's party, and he was seen at the head of the troop gesticulating vehemently to his sister to keep back.

"Ride away, my dear! ride away!" cried Hurst, "I will go on!" but at that moment a shot struck his charger, and horse and rider went down together. Miss Walton, however, rode forward, seeing the good yeoman struggling up; and Arrah Neil, too, pursued her way, reached the bridge, dashed up the path, entered the road, and, in the midst of all the fire, galloped on till, within ten yards of the carriages, a ball struck the animal in the haunches, and he reared violently with the pain. She still kept her seat, however, till Lord Walton, spurring forward, seized the bridle and caught her in his arms, just as the horse fell, and, struggling in the agonies of death, rolled over into the dike.

"Good God! what is it?" exclaimed Charles Walton, bearing her back behind the waggons. "Annie, Annie, ride away!" he shouted to his sister; "if you love me, ride away!"

"There is a path down by the bridge; the river is fordable below!" exclaimed Arrah Neil; "there are no dykes beyond the stream. All is clear on that side."

"Look, look, Charles!" cried Miss Walton, pointing with her hand, "there is a body of cavalry drawing out from the village, and some one riding at full speed towards our people on the hill."

"Friends, on my life!" cried Major Randal. "Now, fair aid-de-camp, gallop round there to the right, and keep out of fire. Tell your people to charge the Roundheads in the front, while those from the village take them on the flank, and we do the best we can on the right. What was that you said, pretty maid?" he continued, addressing Arrah Neil; "a path down by the bridge--the stream fordable?"

"Ride-away, Annie! ride away!" cried Lord Walton; "more to the right! more to the right!"

"We must push forward the carriages and carts," said Major Randal; "they will give us some shelter. Where this girl came up, there can we go down."

"I saw the path quite clear," said one of the men.

But without more words the new plan proposed was immediately followed; the carts, drawn up two abreast, were pushed forward towards the bridge by the main strength of the dismounted troopers, for the horses had become unmanageable, and the traces had been cut; and under shelter of these and of the carriages, which formed a line on the left, the troop advanced in good order to the bridge, notwithstanding all the efforts of the musketeers.

In the mean while, Annie Walton took her way back towards the hill, beckoning to the yeoman, Hurst, who had by this time freed himself from his horse; but he, with that sort of passive bravery which is so characteristic of the English peasant, continued deliberately to unbuckle the girths of his saddle (about which, it appeared afterwards, all his stock was stowed away in various bags and contrivances), and made not the slightest effort to get out of musket-shot till he got the whole upon his back, after which he trudged away towards the hill, only injured by one ball which grazed his arm.

Losing no time by the way, Miss Walton soon rejoined the party of troopers at the knoll, and was giving them the order of Major Randal, when Barecolt himself came up at full speed, exclaiming--

"Great news! great news! There is the Earl of Beverley with two hundred horse, ready to charge the Roundheads in the flank."

"We have Major Randal's orders to charge them in front," said the sergeant.

"Stay, stay!" cried Barecolt; "wait a minute, wait a minute and then the man who does not kill his five of the enemy should never sit down with a gentleman to dinner again. Steady, my men, steady; look to your pistols; have ready your spurs. As soon as the earl has crossed the road I give the word."

"See, see!" cried Annie Walton, "they have got down into the meadow--they are fording the stream--see what a fire the enemy are keeping up upon them. Oh! charge, charge, for God's sake, and help them!"

"Madam, I always obey a lady," said Barecolt with a low bow, at the same time raising the blade of his sword to his lips and kissing it. "She is the best commanding officer in the world. Now!--upon them! charge and at them!" and with these words he led his little troop forward with an air of gallantry and determination which went far to justify the gasconades in which he indulged.

The ford, though somewhat deep, was smooth and easy, but still it exposed the troop of Cavaliers to a terrible fire of musketry from the bridge; and Annie Walton, left alone with her women on the hill, saw with a sinking heart flash after flash run along the road, whilst the thick white smoke was wafted by the wind over her brother's party, rendering the figures indistinct, and concealing their movements in some degree from her eyes. A moment after, however, she saw two or three horsemen break out of the clouds and gallop on for several hundred yards into the meadows, then followed a greater number, and she could hear shouts and calls, in the midst of which she thought she distinguished her brother's voice; and then she saw the troopers halt and form again in line, while Barecolt, with his little party, bore steadily on at a quick pace somewhat to the right; and a much larger body of cavalry, which seemed to have taken a circuit from the village behind some hedgerows that skirted the edge of the plain appeared advancing rapidly on the left of the musketeers, and occupying the whole space between the wood and the high-road.

There was now a momentary pause, the firing ceased, the troop of Lord Walton and Major Randal remained still, the smoke cleared in some degree away, and Annie asked herself, "What next?"

The moment, however, that Barecolt came on a line with the rest, the shrill blast of a trumpet was heard from the two larger bodies of horse; all were again in movement; and, galloping forward towards the point occupied by the musketeers, the three parties of royalists charged headlong down upon them, while once more the bright flash of the fire-arms ran along the line of the road, and the cloud of smoke again rolled over the combatants.

It was no longer to be repulsed that the Cavaliers now charged. For full ten minutes, the eyes of the watchers on the hill could perceive nothing but one struggling and confused mass in the midst of the dim white cloud, with the frequent flashes of the guns, and every now and then a party of two or three becoming more apparent, and then plunging again into the midst of the mÊlÉe. At the same time the frequent reports of the musketry and the long-continued blasts of the trumpet, mingled with shouts and cries, were borne by the wind to the ear, showing that the fight was continued with desperate determination on each side; and Annie Walton could restrain her anxiety no longer, but moved slowly forward towards the scene of combat.

Before she had advanced many yards, a horse without a rider rushed across the road and galloped over the meadows towards her--paused, turned round, and with elevated head and expanded nostrils gazed towards the place from which he came--then with a wild neigh broke away again, and rushed across the plain. In another instant, three or four men on foot, with muskets in their hands, were seen running at full speed, and Miss Walton checked her horse, fearing that they might come near her; but they made direct for one of the ditches we have mentioned, and jumping in, seemed to couch down for concealment.

"They have won the day," cried Annie Walton, and turning to her women, who had followed somewhat slowly, she repeated, "The Cavaliers have won the day. God grant it may be without great loss!" and at the thought of what might be her brother's fate in that fierce fight, her heart sank with that dread which we all feel when the veil which always hangs more or less over the future, is brought nearer to our eyes, so as to render our contemplation even of the present dim and indistinct.

A larger party of foot, consisting of perhaps twenty or thirty men, was then seen hurrying along the road; but close upon them came a body of cavalry, and in a moment they were dispersed and flying over the plain. Almost at the same time, the heavy mass of horse and infantry which had so long remained mingled together near the bridge, seemed to explode like a shell, parties of foot and horsemen scattering here and there in every direction; and the terrible scene of a rout and pursuit now took place--the musketeers in general casting down their arms and dying, while the Cavaliers followed them here and there over the plain, and put them to the sword on the least show of resistance.

In the midst of all this disarray and confusion, a group of some twenty or thirty horsemen were seen gathered round a small flag upon the highest part of the road near the bridge; and after a brief pause, during which they remained perfectly still and motionless, the loud and peculiar trumpet-call--known in those days as the recal to the standard--came shrill but musical upon the air; and the next instant four or five horsemen separated themselves from the party, and rode up at an easy canter towards the wooded knoll.

Annie Walton gazed eagerly, and recognising her brother's form, after one moment of brief anxiety rode on to meet him with her heart at ease. Lord Walton pushed forward his horse before the rest, and wheeling it by her side, pressed her hand in his, murmuring, "My dearest Annie! my sweet sister! you have been sadly terrified, I fear, but yet you have shown yourself a soldier's child."

"Oh, Charles, Charles! you are wounded!" cried Annie, looking in his face, which was bleeding, and at a gory scarf which was round his left arm.

"Nothing, nothing!" replied her brother. "Men will have scratches when they fight with wild beasts, Annie; and these Roundheads have shown themselves as fierce and intractable as wolves or lions. They fought gallantly, however, it must be owned, and have made us pay dearly for our success."

"I fear so, indeed, Charles," cried Miss Walton. "I am sure it must be so. But poor Arrah Neil--is she safe?"

"Oh yes, thank God!" replied Lord Walton. "I sent just now to the coach in which I had placed her, to make sure she was uninjured. I must not blame her rashness, my Annie, nor yours either, for it has been the means of saving us; but it was a terrible risk, my dear girl, and your escape is a miracle."

"And good Major Randal?" asked Annie, willing to change the subject.

"He is safe too," replied Lord Walton, "and without a scratch, though never man exposed himself more. But here comes another friend whom you will be glad to see, and to whom we owe all our success."

"Oh, Sir Francis Clare!" exclaimed Miss Walton, a glow of pleasure rising in her cheek; "I am most happy to see you."

"Nay, not Sir Francis Clare either," cried her brother, "but my oldest and truest friend, the Earl of Beverley."

"Nay," said Annie, with a smile, "it was not fair of you, my lord, to give me a false name the other day. I half intend to punish you by treating you as a stranger still. Had you told me it was Lord Beverley, I should not have said that I never heard my brother mention you, for I can assure you, in former days, his letters were full of no one else. However, there is my hand--I forgive you, trusting with all a woman's foolish confidence that you had some good reason for cheating me."

"I will never cheat you more, dear lady," replied Lord Beverley, taking her hand and raising it to his lips; "but in such times as these it is sometimes needful to seem not what we are, and these noms-de-guerre when once assumed should be kept up to every one. I had to ride near two hundred miles across a disturbed country where the name of Francis Clare might pass unquestioned, when that of Beverley might have soon found me a lodging in the Tower. Walton said it was a rash act of mine to risk such an expedition at all; but I have just heard from him that I am not the only rash person where there is a good cause and a great object to be gained."

"Nay, will you scold me too?" rejoined Miss Walton, laughing; "if so, I will hold no further conversation with you. Yet, my good lord, to say truth, I take less blame to myself for what I did than for not doing it at once. To see the poor girl, Arrah Neil, willing to risk her life to serve my brother, shamed me, to think that she should encounter danger alone."

"But you might have sent one of the men, dear Annie," said Lord Walton: "it was a soldier's, not a lady's task to carry such intelligence."

"But they would not go," replied Annie Walton; and as they rode back towards the high-road, she explained to her brother and his friend the circumstances under which she had acted.

For a minute or two the conversation was as gay and cheerful as a great success just obtained, a great deliverance just achieved, could render it. Lord Beverley explained to his fair companion, that having learned that morning on entering the neighbouring village with a body of two hundred horse, which he had raised for the service of the king, that a regiment of parliamentary musketeers were lying concealed at the back of the wood, and supposing that their ambush was directed against himself, he had determined to remain in the place, and defend it, should need be, against them; but that when he found the passage of Lord Walton's troop was opposed, and his friend in danger, he had instantly called his men to the saddle, and advanced to support him. Lord Walton, too, related many of those actions which in such scenes of strife are always crowded into the space of a few minutes; and much praise did he bestow upon the gallant determination of Major Randal and his troop, and also upon the steadiness and courage displayed by his own tenantry and adherents. Captain Barecolt himself had his full share of commendation.

"I had thought," said Charles Walton, "from his ridiculous bravadoes during the last two days, that the man must be at least a coward, although Randal is not one to suffer such an animal near him; but it proved quite the contrary; for I saw his long body constantly in the thick of the mÊlÉe, and his heavy sword cutting right and left at the steel caps of the musketeers, over the very muzzles of their guns."

As they approached nearer to the scene of conflict, however, the sights which Miss Walton witnessed--the dead, the dying, the wounded, the road stained with deep pools of blood, and the sounds that met her ear--the groan of anguish, the sad complaint, the cry for water and for help--blotted out all memory of their success; and with a shuddering frame and a sad heart she followed her brother to the spot where Major Randal was sitting by his cornet, on the parapet of the bridge, receiving accounts from the different troopers as they came in, of the prisoners taken from the enemy, and the killed and wounded on their own part, while ever and anon a mounted trumpeter by his side blew a loud, long blast, to call the parties from the pursuit.

"Ah, Miss Walton!" cried the old officer, starting up and addressing her in his usual bluff tone; "I am glad to see you safe and well. I will never say that women are of no use any more; for, by my faith, you and that little girl got us out of a pretty predicament. I was blind enough or stupid enough, and so were all the rest, not to mark the little path, for we passed it in charging up to the bridge; but even if we had seen it, we should not have known that the stream was fordable below. However, get you into the carriage again, and shut your eyes or draw the curtains, for I see you look white and sickish, and these sights are not fit for women. The men will soon have pulled down that barricade, and then you can go on, while we get up the wounded and follow. We must do ten miles more to-night."

"I should prefer to ride," replied Miss Walton; "you had better put the wounded people in the carriages."

"True, true; well bethought," answered the old soldier. "You are a good girl after all."

Lord Walton smiled at this somewhat ambiguous compliment to his sister; but, as no time was to be lost, he left her under the care of Lord Beverly, and proceeded to give orders, and make those arrangements which the circumstances required. The barricade, which had been constructed hastily of felled trees, stone, and turf, was speedily removed, and the foremost of the carriages was being brought forward to receive some of the men severely wounded, who were lying about within the very narrow circle to which the strife had been confined, when Lord Walton's servant, Langan, rode up, exclaiming--"My lord! my lord! the prisoners have made their escape."

"What prisoners?" demanded Lord Walton, forgetting those he had brought from Bishop's Merton.

"Why, that Roundhead rascal and canting hypocrite, Dry, of Longsoaken, with Thistleton, and the rest."

"No," rejoined Roger Hartup, who was standing near, with a severe wound in his shoulder; "I shot Thistleton through the head after the first charge. He had picked up a sword, I don't know how, and got out of the carriage, and was just making a plunge at Jackson the forester when I blew his brains out with my pistol; you will find him lying behind the waggons. Of the rest I know nothing."

"They are all gone," answered Langan.

"And Arrah Neil?" exclaimed Lord Walton, advancing towards the carriages. But Arrah Neil was not there.