HAL O' THE IRONSIDES
 
 By S. R. CROCKETT 
 
 SILVER SAND 
 
 A Romance of Old Galloway. 
 
 Cloth, net $1.25. 
 
 " In this romance published only a 
 few days after his death, we find Mr. 
 Crockett in his familiar Wigtownshire, 
 writing at his best, and giving us an 
 even finer display of his powers than 
 when he first captured his admirers. 
 ' Silver Sand ' is certainly one of the 
 best things he ever did." — Pall Mall 
 Gazette. 
 
 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 A Story of the Days of Cromwell. 
 
 Illustrated, i2mo, cloth, net $1.25. 
 
 Crockett's last story. A rip-roaring 
 tale of the days of the great Oliver — 
 days when the dogs of war were let 
 loose in English meadows, when the un- 
 beatable Ironsides invoked the spirit of 
 the God of battles, and " the gallant of 
 England struck home for the King." 
 Crockett draws a splendid portrait of 
 Cromwell, and depicts the stirring 
 scenes of the struggle between Cavalier 
 and Roundhead, with all the skill of an 
 experienced and accomplished literary 
 craftsman.
 
 
 CS 
 
 X 
 
 13 
 
 
 -*-• 
 
 T3 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 . ^ 
 
 M 
 
 r^ 
 
 u 
 
 <\) 
 
 rt 
 
 -O 
 
 t^ 
 
 -3 . 
 .'^ o
 
 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 A STORY OF THE DAYS OF CROMWELL 
 
 BY 
 
 S. R. CROCKETT 
 
 Author or 
 
 "The Raiders," " The Lilac Sunbonnet,' 
 
 "Silver Sand," etc., etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 New York Chicago Toronto 
 
 Fleming H. Revell Company 
 
 London and Edinburgh
 
 Copyright, 1915, by 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 
 New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
 Chicago: 125 N. Wabash Ave. 
 Toronto: 25 Richmond St., W. 
 London: 21 Paternoster Square 
 Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. The Primrose Way . 
 
 II, Exit the Philanderer . 
 
 III. Hog Lane 
 
 IV. " For the Houses and the Lord! 
 V. " Sleep Well, Captain Ludlow ! 
 
 VI. The Isle Jatte 
 
 VII. Hal Leads a " Forlorn " 
 
 Vlll. The Quaker of Boreham Barns 
 
 IX. Rupert Keeps Tryst 
 
 X. Molly Hates Hal . 
 
 XI. Hal's Homing .... 
 
 XII. A Judas in the Camp 
 
 XIII. Tobias Mole, Expert in Women 
 
 XIV. Lady Molly Learns to Say " Please 
 XV. The Leaguer of Trumpington 
 
 XVI. A Midnight Summons . 
 
 XVII. Blind Man's Ferry 
 
 XVIII. The Hardening of Hog Lane 
 
 XIX. The Last of Isle Jatte . 
 
 XX. Marston Moor .... 
 
 XXI. A Little Escort Duty . 
 
 XXII. Without Are Wolves . 
 
 XXIII. Great Pains to Little Purpose 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 17 
 30 
 
 40 
 
 49 
 58 
 68 
 
 77 
 85 
 97 
 108 
 116 
 123 
 132 
 141 
 
 150 
 160 
 168 
 177 
 
 185 
 194 
 203 
 213
 
 6 CONTENTS 
 
 XXIV. The Substitute 220 
 
 XXV. Happiness Corner 228 
 
 XXVI. The Amateur Wizards .... 235 
 
 XXVII. Oxford in the King's Days . . . 245 
 
 XXVIII. Camp Fire Magic 251 
 
 XXIX. The Lady Lulu 258 
 
 XXX. A Cromwell of Women .... 269 
 
 XXXI. " Hog Lane and Colonel Ludlow ! " . 273 
 
 XXXII. The Great Raid 281 
 
 XXXIII. The Hewing of Agag .... 292 
 
 XXXIV. Naseby Morning 300 
 
 XXXV. A State Banquet 309 
 
 XXXVI. High Strategy 319
 
 I 
 
 THE PRIMROSE WAY 
 
 t( f^ LAUDE BATSON, Israel Meeks, Issachar Wat- 
 
 l i son — all present ? " 
 
 " Right ! " answered Cornet Sam Squire, as 
 young Harry Cromwell of Ely Town called the roll of 
 the Slepe Troop — the Tawnies or original Ironsides. 
 Little more than sixteen years he had, when he made a 
 soldier of himself — and Winceby Fight not yet fought. 
 The Cromwell cock-birds began to use their spurs early — 
 all but Lazy Dick. 
 
 "Hal Ludlow?" 
 
 "Hal Ludlow, I say?" 
 
 The boy's voice rose shrill and quickly angered. He 
 felt himself insulted by Hal Ludlow's failure — his chosen 
 friend to absent himself from call-over! 
 
 " Another petticoat ! " growled Cornet Squire in his 
 ear, so low, however, that his troop did not hear. 
 
 " I'll petticoat him ! " cried the lad, flushing. " Let 
 him be horsed when he comes in, with a couple of 
 muskets at his feet ! " 
 
 " Don't break his will — this first time," whispered wise 
 Cornet Squire, the Colonel's adjutant; "let me speak to 
 him — we need not tell the Colonel ! " 
 
 " But the discipline ? My father made me swear to 
 maintain that." The boy's eyes flashed and he pushed 
 his helmet back upon his tangle of dark curls. 
 
 For Hal Ludlow was his mate and comrade. A year 
 ago they had fought and tussled, rolling each other over 
 in the dust of the playground at Ely Grammar School. 
 Since then Harry had followed his father and had learned 
 
 7
 
 8 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 many things — to fear God (well, no — that came natural 
 to a Cromwell) — to fear his father, which was equally- 
 easy — to worship him, which was easier still — and above 
 all to live and die for the Houses and the new cavalry of 
 which the Slepe Troop was the model. 
 
 But of the two Henries, one had remained helter- 
 skelter Hal, and he by no means the grave and soldierly 
 boy of whom the small yeomen and farmers of the troop 
 agreed with chuckles of satisfaction that he was " the 
 very spit of his father." 
 
 Yet Hal Ludlow was two years older, of a richer fam- 
 ily, always with money among his hands — money such as 
 a young Cromwell never saw except in the sacred shape 
 of " trooper's pay." The Colonel himself often went with 
 a paltry five pieces in his own pocket, and so must his 
 sons — without the five pieces. Of course Hal Ludlow 
 would lend, and so would Sam Squire, but it was unhandy 
 to be owing money to a man whom you might have to 
 set astride that awkward animal the wooden horse, for a 
 fixed number of hours, in the interests of the New Dis- 
 cipline. What if he asked you for those three gold pieces 
 you owed him right before the sentry, and that sentry 
 old Jack Flinders, a leader of the Praying Gang and a 
 confidant of the Colonel's? 
 
 Harry Cromwell shuddered as he thought of it. He 
 would rather have fought a dozen Camdeners at a wood 
 corner than face his father after that, so he agreed that 
 Cornet Sam should speak in the gate with Hal Ludlow, 
 and that the horsing should stand over for the present. 
 
 " Never again ! " his boy's heart was crying, " never 
 again will I borrow a sixpence, even for a present for 
 mother and the girls in the old house at Ely." Bess and 
 Bridget must do without silk hose rather than that he 
 with his captaincy new upon him should stand shamed 
 before his father. 
 
 Then in the very bitter midst of his repentance the 
 comforting thought came to him that Sam Squire was a
 
 THE PRIMROSE WAY 9 
 
 rich man. He was an officer too and easy-going. No 
 harm then, if the worst came to the worst, in borrowing, 
 a shilHng or two from Cornet Sam. Why, his father 
 himself did so often, though of course that was to buy 
 hay for the horses. 
 
 Hal Cromwell adjusted his helmet of which he was 
 very proud. It was of Flemish make and had a white 
 plume of a most noble aspect. Hal Cromwell wished that 
 he might encounter the other Hal somewhere out in the 
 woods. He would there and then strip to him, and 
 though Hal Ludlow was two years older and though the 
 girls admired him because of his moustache and the 
 dashing way he had with him, he, Henry Cromwell, could 
 thrash him again, as he had before when the shadows of 
 Ely steeple lay across the dust of the playground in 
 which they writhed and punched one another blind and 
 dumb, each gasping " Cry enough," and almost ready 
 to do it himself. 
 
 " Oh, ' petticoating ' ! The shame of it ! What was 
 the use of girls to men of war, gazetted captains of 
 seventeen mature years, under the New Discipline and 
 his father's articles of war — in which women did not 
 figure except as feeble folk destined to be sent cellar- 
 ward in cases of siege and battery by heavy artillery. 
 
 Yet he had thought so highly of Hal Ludlow and been 
 so proud of him once, that he had proposed him as 
 captain in his place. 
 
 " Do as I bid you, sir," the Colonel had said, " a Crom- 
 well must captain the Slepe Troop. Dick ought to, but 
 Dick is too easy, so you must stand to it — with your 
 father at the elbow and Sam Sobersides to keep you 
 straight. Master Hal Ludlow will make an excellent 
 cornet when he is broken in a little ! " 
 
 There was no more to be said. There never was when 
 Colonel Cromwell finished speaking. They knew that, 
 the gentlemen of the Westminster Commons when they 
 listened to the tall man in the ill-cut countr^'-made suit.
 
 10 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 The House even heard him gladly, with a curious defer- 
 ence, astonishing to the dandies who swaggered and 
 lounged there of an idle afternoon. 
 
 The Slepe Troop had been sent out from Ely to watch 
 the Soham road for " Candishers " and " Camdeners " — 
 that is, half-organised raiders owning vague allegiance 
 to my Lord Camden or to Charles Cavendish — more 
 exactly, plundering at large in their names and the 
 King's. 
 
 And all this while where was the delinquent Hal, that 
 Puritan a panache, the Roundhead with the Plume, as 
 Le Franc the Huguenot weaver described him. Why, 
 his horse was stabled in the great Tithe Farm of Ely 
 Town, quite inconspicuously be it said, and he himself 
 was in the garden of the Tithe House making careless 
 love to Bess and Biddy Cromwell. These young women 
 were gay and lighthearted. They scoffed at military 
 discipline — at least, when their father was a score of 
 miles out off on the road to Boston and they were free 
 to chatter their loudest. They encouraged their hand- 
 some wooer to neglect his duties. 
 
 " Why, your captain ! 'Tis only Harry — he is no more 
 than a boy. We make him stand about when he comes 
 in our way, we can tell you — if he does wear a Flanders 
 helmet ! " 
 
 " Doubtless, young ladies," said Hal, " only the mis- 
 chief is I am by no means his sister, but a private in his 
 troop, whom if I disobey and it comes to your father's 
 ears, he will send me skipping. 
 
 " ' Out you go, my lad — obey or go home,' he will say. 
 * I can use the whip with any man, but just now I am 
 raising a thousand men who may need the rein, but never 
 the whip, never the spur. If you are not good enough — 
 out you go ! ' That, girls, is what your father will say. 
 I would swear it, but under the new rules that costs 
 twelve pence ! " 
 
 The girls, gamesome maids of nineteen and sixteen.
 
 THE PRIMROSE WAY 11 
 
 sobered a little at the mention of their father, but re- 
 covered at the thought of the enlistment muster on the 
 Boston Road, twenty good miles away. Indeed, they 
 were depending upon that, for had it been otherwise 
 they would have been indoors " helping mother " or 
 making down clothes for Mall and Fanny, their scamper- 
 ing sisters whose clamorous entrance at half-past four 
 from the school in the close would put a stop to their 
 pleasant chat with the " plumed Puritan " under the 
 Tithing House elms. 
 
 Let us look at Bridget Cromwell, nineteen and well 
 grown, modest of public demeanour as becometh her 
 father's daughter, mirthful and even kittenish in private, 
 she gave little idea of the bold soldier's wife she was to 
 become. She had her own difficulties with a mother who 
 would have chained her to a more severe domesticity, 
 and still more with that tricksome imp her sister Bess, 
 now sixteen, the only Cromwell who, till Mall and the 
 Featherhead grew up, ever dared openly flout the for- 
 midable " Lord of the Fens." These three, being chil- 
 dren, somehow discerned the tender heart under the 
 shining breastplate of the First Ironside, and having 
 found the secret, they played with it to the mingled 
 admiration and fear of the entire household. 
 
 It was undeniably pleasant under the elm trees in the 
 Tithe garden. The sun-dial a couple of yards away 
 marked the flight of time, but neither truant Hal of the 
 Slepe Troop nor his hostesses wasted a glance upon it. 
 Bridget had taken the young man's helmet upon her knee 
 and was arranging the plume so that it would fall well 
 to the back, while Bess was making him a white true 
 love-knot to wear on his wrist. Truly a fortunate 
 young fellow ! 
 
 But just then, when things were going most pleasantly, 
 there swung into the garden a tall man, helmeted and 
 corsleted, spurs clanking and sword jangling — a kind of 
 sudden archangel's trump of doom to the trio by the
 
 12 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 sun-dial under the Tithe elms. Yet he did not look in any- 
 way terrible, this man. He carried a little girl on each 
 shoulder, their feet beating a joyous rataplan on the 
 mail, and their bodies swaying as the big man strode 
 along, steadying them with a hand apiece under the 
 armpit to right and left of the formidable steel-clad 
 head. 
 
 They had encountered Colonel Cromwell as he entered 
 his own door, taken him by escalade, and now triumphed 
 and shouted high over the grim face for once relaxed 
 into a smile. It was the single defeat of the Ironside 
 chieftain. He was never beaten again. 
 
 Then he caught sight of the group under the trees, 
 who sat, all but Bess, frozen and afraid. His brow dark- 
 ened. He set the little girls down and out of his pouch 
 he took some coppers. 
 
 " There, Mall, be off with you to Mistress Doudenay's 
 and buy some sweet cakes. Let not your mother see you. 
 She loves not feeding between meals ! She is right, my 
 dame, but I come not home every day to be abused so — 
 worse than by a score of King's men ! Off, ye scraplets ! " 
 
 The two took hands and fled, shouting because of the 
 " sweet cakes " and the pennies to be spent at Gossip 
 Doudenay's. 
 
 When he turned, Bess was there ready for him. In a 
 moment her arms were about his neck. 
 
 " Do not be very angry," she whispered, " it was our 
 fault. We made him stay. It is only Hal Ludlow after 
 all." 
 
 " This is New Model with a vengeance," said Oliver, 
 fixing the young man over his daughter's head with a 
 glance that cut like a knife. " You show a pretty ex- 
 ample — you, the Commissioner's son ! Where is your 
 troop, sir? Is Henry malingering also? No, he would 
 not dare. Where is your troop, I say? Have you got 
 a tongue that can speak ? " 
 
 The lion was roaring, and speech immediately after
 
 THE PRIMROSE WAY 13 
 
 that reverberation was not easy to any son of man, 
 Parliamentary Commissioner or plain citizen. But Hal 
 Ludlow had risen to his feet at the first glance from the 
 stern man's eyes. As if moved by a spring he stood at 
 attention. 
 
 " My troop should be on the road to Soham, sir," 
 stammered poor Hal, " I meant to join them — only I 
 forgot — I never forgot before ! " 
 
 " Please listen," Bess Cromwell's whisper came again, 
 " it was all our fault. We were so bored with doing 
 nothing, we wanted Hal to play with ! " 
 
 Perhaps there was the least flicker of something not 
 unkindly about the corner of Colonel Cromwell's mouth, 
 but it passed like the skarrow of summer lightning across 
 a crack in a window shutter. 
 
 He took down his daughter's hands quite gently. 
 
 " Go to your mother, girls — both of you ! " 
 
 Bridget and Bess passed out of sight, moving swift and 
 noiselessly over the grass. 
 
 " And now, young man," said Colonel Cromwell, un- 
 helming himself, " I have a minute in which to say a 
 few words to your father's son, such as I would that in 
 like circumstances he would say to mine." 
 
 He looked him up and down with one raking double 
 glance, and bold Hal Ludlow's blood chilled in his veins. 
 
 " Your helmet, sir ! " Hal set it upon the table, and 
 Cromwell with one gathering snatch tore away the white 
 plume and left the black metal bald. 
 
 " Now, sir, your wrist ! " 
 
 And he wrenched away the white love-knot. These 
 were the distinctive marks of the Slepe Troop, and with 
 a gulp Hal Ludlow felt that he was being degraded. 
 
 The Colonel set himself down on the bench, and played 
 absently with the deserted workbox on the little square 
 table before him. But his mind was far indeed from 
 scissor blades and tags of silk ribbon.
 
 14 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 The silence of fate weighed on the small sun-flecked 
 garden of the Tithing House under the shadow of St. 
 Mary's steeple in Ely City. Colonel Cromwell seemed in 
 no haste to speak. He looked straight before him — as 
 it were beyond and through Hal of the Slepe Troop. But 
 he meant to speak and to some purpose. The atmos- 
 phere grew heavy and electric in that quiet flowery close. 
 Hal Ludlow was a bold fellow enough in the shock of 
 combat, but this was quite a different business. To 
 stand and wait for Colonel Cromwell to open fire was 
 nervous work even for the best fortified cities — how much 
 worse for a young man slipped from the path of duty. 
 
 His gaze returned suddenly upon the culprit, almost 
 with the sound of clean-running steel, as a sword half 
 drawn snicks back into its sheath. 
 
 " Hal Ludlow," he said, " because you are young, 
 and because you are your father's son, I shall deal with 
 you man to man. Perhaps you think that this is a light 
 thing which you have done, to leave your regiment on 
 service that you may gossip an afternoon with my girls." 
 
 Trooper Ludlow hung his head. He had in fact 
 thought it no great matter — that is, before the incoming 
 of Colonel Cromwell. But things seemed to have a way 
 of changing their similitude under the brooding thunder- 
 cloud of that brow and the occasional lurid lightning of 
 Oliver's sombre eyes. 
 
 " A little thing, and in itself innocent — yes, and for 
 most young men good, even laudable — to speak an hour 
 or two with honest maidens. But not for any soldier of 
 mine, Hal, and as such I have broken you until such 
 time as you prove yourself worthy." 
 
 " It is hard to hear you say so, sir," stammered poor 
 young Hal, " I would die to serve you." 
 
 " It is possible," said Cromwell, unmoved. " Any fool 
 can die, but what I want is a thousand men who will 
 obey me. I cannot have a laggard, a garden-loiterer in 
 the battle-field of the Lord. My princes must be alto-
 
 THE PRIMROSE WAY 15 
 
 gether kings! You might do for my Lord of Essex or 
 Manchester, but till you have proven your armour you 
 are not good enough for me. Why have we of the faith 
 never had a cavalry which could stand against the horse- 
 men of the Rhine princes ? Because our men have been 
 cellarmen, tavern drawers, or plough-horse yokels, com- 
 manded by the first man who had favour with a parlia- 
 ment member or an army commissioner. Rupert's men 
 are gentlemen of birth and courage. They had been on 
 horseback ever since they could walk, and what wonder 
 that they go through us Hke fire through gorse. But I 
 will raise and range a thousand men who shall break the 
 stout heart of the Prince and abase the glory of his high 
 looks. To do that I must try every man of them. I must 
 weed and prune." 
 
 " You will find me do my duty on the day of battle. 
 Colonel Cromwell," said the young man, lifting his head 
 with the young fire dancing in his eyes. The chief of the 
 New Model quelled him with a look. 
 
 " The day of battle, say you ? Learn then from me 
 that he who would be ready on the day of battle must be 
 ready every day. How know you that Lucy or Caven- 
 dish are not now cutting in upon your late comrades 
 while you have stayed philandering here ? " 
 
 Hal Ludlow grew pale and his brow sweated cold even 
 in the afternoon heat of that confined space — " philander- 
 ing "... broken for philandering . . . how could he 
 face his father? The leader spoke on. 
 
 " Go, if you will, to your cousin, Wiltshire Edmond of 
 Hazlerigg's Horse. He is, I hear, with General Waller. 
 I will recommend you for a cornetcy and I make no 
 doubt that you will serve him well. But what is good 
 enough for the other armies will not do for the East- 
 ern Association. They build of brick and are thrown 
 down. I build of hewn stone which shall stand the 
 shock." 
 
 " If I do something worthy you will take me back.
 
 16 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Colonel Cromwell? I would rather be a trooper with 
 you than command a regiment elsewhere." 
 
 " I thank you," said Cromwell, " I will deal with you 
 as with my own. So much freedom I use with you. My 
 son Oliver is with my Lord Essex. I love him well, but 
 there he bides till I am sure of him — aye, though I never 
 see him again. My son Richard I keep only because he 
 is not to be trusted, except under my own eye. Henry is 
 the only one who can walk alone, and him I keep close 
 with the oldest and the safest of our people at his right 
 hand and at his left. Mark you well, Henry Ludlow, to 
 be of us, is to be of the chosen, is to be a citizen of no 
 mean city. Once I have welded my iron on the anvil, 
 we shall tumble Rupert in the dust when next we meet 
 him. Every battle, sayeth the Scripture, is with con- 
 fused noise and garments rolled in blood, but ours shall 
 be with burning and fuel of fire ! " 
 
 The Colonel rose and handed the deplumed helmet to 
 the young man. 
 
 " This will serve you well with Hazlerigg's men, and 
 the Wiltshire captains will permit what I dare not. Go — 
 I will send letters of introduction to your lodgings ! " 
 
 " But if I do something — if I do something " Hal 
 
 Ludlow gasped. He went red and white with shame and 
 anguish — such a little thing and so heavy a punishment. 
 
 " When you do anything, let me see it — by their works 
 ye shall know them ! " 
 
 He nodded curtly, looking the discarded Ironside fair 
 in the face, not wholly without a certain grim approval 
 of his attitude. 
 
 Hal Ludlow stood fixed at the salute till the tall figure 
 had jingled itself inside. Then he sighed, glanced once 
 at the parlour windows hoping for a farewell salutation 
 which did not come, and then strode manfully through 
 the great sweet-smelling spaces of the Tithe Barns, out 
 of the big wain doors into the yellow slant of afternoon 
 sunlight which filled the streets of Ely.
 
 II 
 
 EXIT THE PHILANDERER 
 
 HAL LUDLOW did not go home, he was in no 
 mood to take another dressing down from his 
 father. Colonel Cromwell's might indeed be con- 
 sidered sufficient for any average young man, not an 
 absolutely impervious blockhead. Hal had had his dose 
 for that day. But there was a look on his face that was 
 not natural to him. There was no panache in his 
 Puritanism any more — the deplumed helmet compelled 
 humility. 
 
 From the windows of the " White Hart " young 
 voices hailed him, bidding him come up and join the 
 garrison m.ess. He waved an acknowledging hand, but 
 kept on his way. For the moment he would leave his 
 horse in the corner of the Tithe barn. He had asked the 
 caretaker, Tom All-Alone, to make him comfortable and 
 give him a feed of corn, Hereward would be all right. 
 He and Tom knew each other of old. It was by no 
 means his first visit to the Tithe barn, not the first 
 time that Hereward had been shamefully deserted by 
 his master. 
 
 There is a little neglected street in Ely, lying towards 
 the easterly wall, which bears the name of Hog Lane. 
 In Tom All-Alone's early days he had been one of the 
 town swineherds, and daily had led his grunting awkward 
 squad along this narrow thoroughfare out upon the 
 " marsh commons." But now Hog Lane had been built 
 up and a colony of " peculiar people " had established 
 themselves there. These were the Anabaptists, or as 
 some folk called them. Levellers — dwelling apart and 
 
 17
 
 18 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 indeed shunned not only by respectable Church and 
 Presbyterian, but even by Independents and unclassed 
 " Sectaries." The fact was, the shadow of Munster Kirk 
 and the orgies of the famous John had for a hundred 
 years left a deep and wholly undeserved stain upon the 
 English Anabaptists, 
 
 But it so happened that Hal Ludlow knew them well. 
 He was of the Cambridgeshire Ludlows, and his imme- 
 diate kin were zealous for the Presbyterian discipline. 
 But his rnother's kinfolk were out of the west, while 
 his uncle and cousins of the Wiltshire Ludlows leaned 
 to Anabaptistry and any other creed or lack of creed 
 which made for raw red republicanism. Personally Hal 
 cared little about the matter, but he loved all that was 
 odd and adventurous, and he knew that there were 
 daring spirits and desperate adventurers among that 
 little colony in Hog Lane. 
 
 It touches ofl Hal Ludlow's character at this period 
 that he caught himself humming: — 
 
 " Fill the bowl with rosy wine," 
 
 and checked only long enough to console his mind with 
 the closing stanza: — 
 
 " Let's banish business, banish sorrow. 
 To the gods belong to-morrow." 
 
 Again Hal Ludlow halted himself. He loved a catch 
 and could troll one with the best, but the stern Puritan 
 atmosphere in which he had grown up kept his conscience 
 alert and fine. He knew that catches must be left to 
 idle cavaliers untouched by the Word, but he had a born 
 faculty for adaptation and made very good ones out of 
 the Truro version of the Psalms. Colonel Cromwell's 
 psalm was the Hundred-and-tenth, and arranged by 
 Hal Ludlow it had gone very well to the trampling 
 horses of the 31epe Troop —
 
 EXIT THE PHILANDERER 19 
 
 " The Lord did say unto my Lord, 
 Sit thou at my right hand 
 Until I make thy foes a stool 
 Whereon thy feet may stand." 
 
 Then came in the rear ranks stormily, reduplicating the 
 line — 
 
 " Whereon thy feet may stand." 
 
 Hal absolutely rejoiced as he struck into the second 
 verse — 
 
 " The Lord shall out of Sion send 
 The rod of Thy great power: 
 In midst of all Thine enemies 
 Be Thou the governor!" 
 
 And from behind and from far before pealed the re- 
 frain of that famous battle catch of the Ironsides — 
 
 "In midst of all Thine enemies 
 Be Thou the governor! " 
 
 Nor was there any doubt as to who among the enemies 
 of God was to govern. Colonel Cromwell would occa- 
 sionally check them, turning in his saddle with frowning 
 brow and uplifted hand. But on such occasions the 
 Ironsides answered him with a mighty shout which 
 carried their faith and their conviction. They swept 
 away his protests with that unanimous command which 
 was afterwards to shake down the walls of towns and 
 commonwealths — 
 
 "Be Thou the governor!" 
 
 Then Colonel Cromwell with a shrug of his shoulders, 
 and perhaps a secret heart-swelling as if already Destiny 
 called, would turn in his saddle and ride on. 
 
 The heart of Hal Ludlow was filled with sudden an- 
 guish. Never more was he to lead that music, never
 
 20 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 more blow on the trumpet the order of charge, swing it 
 behind him, change his sword hand and see the Slepe 
 Troop drive the foe hke chaff down the wind. Another 
 army? There was but one leader for him, that tall 
 rugged man who had spoken so harshly in the garden that 
 afternoon. There were other charges of horses, but only 
 one Slepe Troop. He had laughed at their ways, at 
 Israel Meek's whine and Tab Tomline's texts, but in 
 his heart of hearts he rejoiced in them, and knew that 
 they were going to make the world over again. The 
 Slepe Troop was the Model for the New Model, and the 
 Colonel was quite right to be jealous of its reputation. 
 What a fool he had been ! Ah, what a fool ! 
 
 At the corner of Market Square he came upon Levi 
 AUister, orderly and master of music to the Slepe Troop. 
 Allister was a hard-baked Independent, a small house- 
 holder much trusted by Colonel Cromwell, who had had 
 many years' traffic with him in the matter of buying 
 and selling hay and corn, a business akin to horse-dealing 
 in that it takes a watchful Providence to keep even a 
 professing Christian fairly honest. But under the eyes 
 of his Maker and those of Colonel Cromwell, Levi 
 Allister had well approven himself for twenty years. 
 
 " Hey, lad, where away ? They be in a pretty taking 
 down Soham way along o' thee. Where hast thou been 
 and what a-doin'? If't be the wenches, say nawt, but 
 ride the wooden horse thou must. For Sam Squire and 
 Captain Harry are rarely mounted against thee. I was 
 sent to fetch thee, lad, so haste and ride. I must see 
 the Colonel before I go, but get thy beast and wait for 
 me at the bridge." 
 
 " No use, Allister," said the young man sadly, " Colonel 
 Cromwell has broken me. He has cast me out of the 
 Slepe Troop as a man unworthy." 
 
 There came the deep note of a man's suffering out of 
 that young breast, always a touching thing when a 
 lad's pride struggles with his manhood.
 
 EXIT THE PHILANDERER 21 
 
 " Sake-a-sake, whatever has't been doing of, Hal?" 
 
 " Laughing with Bess and Bridget in the Tithe House 
 garden. The Colonel fairly caught me." 
 
 " Um-m-m ! " Levi hummed through his nose medita- 
 tively, " that is a most ungentle providence. Why did 
 you let yourself be caught? " 
 
 " Biddy Cromwell was flouting me ! " 
 
 " Well, her hath flouted thee to some purpose, and 
 then I be supposing Oliver did dress thee down 
 rarely? " 
 
 " Till the sweat stood chill as a white Christmas on 
 me, Allister, and he shore off my badge and plume which 
 I wore, being of the first mount, as you know." 
 
 " And did he mention no loophole — order no punish- 
 ment? " 
 
 " None," said the youth sadly ; " these I should have 
 been glad of and suffered like a man, but he told me I 
 was in noways good enough for his regiments and that 
 I might go, with his blessing, to enlist with Hazlerigg 
 and Essex as being all I was fit for." 
 
 " Ah — there speaks Oliver — I can hear him ! " 
 
 " Would to God you had then — and not I," said the 
 young man rather testily. " He told me that when I 
 proved my worthiness by deeds, he would think again 
 upon the matter." 
 
 " 'Tis a pity," said the chief trumpeter, " for the 
 Candishers are swarming down across Lincolnshire like 
 a hive of bees at Lammastide. Dick Lucy commands 
 them, or at least they buzz thickest about him when he 
 goes after plunder." 
 
 Instantly Hal Ludlow was attentive. " Where are 
 these Candishers ? " he inquired carelessly, but he 
 listened well for the answer. 
 
 " I heard say that they are to rendezvous at Whittlesea 
 where the Wisbee men will meet us. Our sixth troop 
 has gone to Downham, but will be returned in time to 
 ride with us. We are to fall on when we cross Nen
 
 22 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Water. The day after to-morrow it is to be done. They 
 have some time to lose their edge before it comes to 
 that. There is good ale in the cellars of Market Deeping. 
 I should not be surprised if they abode there till we 
 smoked them out. 'Tis that young daredevil of a Dick 
 Lucy who leads them out harrying. Cavendish would 
 have a better care of his men, but the truth is they have 
 no idea of what Oliver's lads can do. Being of the 
 King's side, the veriest hedge-varlet and road-scraper 
 among them fancies himself a Rupert as soon as he can 
 keep in a saddle for five minutes." 
 
 " Thank you, Levi lad," called out Hal as the trum- 
 peter lifted his reins and the charger danced about on 
 the paving stones impatient to be gone, " to our next 
 meeting " 
 
 " In the Lord's name I say aye to that," cried Allister 
 over his shoulder, " and may it be soon, lad. We shall 
 weary for your merry pipe when the march is long and 
 the psalm strikes up." 
 
 Hal turned down Hog Lane and marked the small 
 clean houses, some of brick and some merely of clay and 
 wattle like a fenman's shelter. For these long lank men 
 came from the Droves — French Drove and Gedney Hill 
 mostly — to be quit of the incursions of the enemy's 
 raiders. 
 
 They were an argumentative set when they got to- 
 gether, but relapsed immediately into long moody silences 
 which came from the custom of week-long solitary medi- 
 tation out on the fens and broads. Famous men too with 
 the brad-awl, cobblers like to none and able to turn you 
 out in an afternoon a better pair of shoes to march in 
 than any that were sent up by the Parliament Commis- 
 sioners sitting at Westminster. This was now their 
 business in Ely, and Colonel Cromwell kept them busy, 
 for besides the foot regiments for my Lord Manchester, 
 he had set them to making jack-boots for his horse. 
 They had never done such a thing before (they said),
 
 EXIT THE PHILANDERER 23 
 
 but let him give them a pattern and Hog Lane would do 
 its best. 
 
 Nor was Hog Lane's best any mean thing. First of 
 all the boots had to satisfy the Colonel, who knew how 
 to be served with a penny's worth for his penny as well 
 as any man. But chiefly the task was easy because they 
 were hiding among them one Hubert Van Kamp, a 
 Hollander of extreme opinions who, save in the secret 
 councils of the Anabaptists, gave no certain account of 
 himself — but who in his time had made riding-boots for 
 Maurice, Prince of Orange. 
 
 Hog Lane, except in the way of trade, kept much to 
 itself. It discouraged visitors, and even Hal, whom they 
 received first because of his Wiltshire relations and 
 afterwards for his own healthy youth and the genuine 
 liking he manifested for their society, was made to 
 understand the greatness of the privilege. 
 
 Nor did he abuse it. He had several times stood the 
 friend of Hog Lane, especially in contested settling 
 operations with the Colonel's clerk and treasurer, Sam 
 Squire. Hog Lane did not cheat, but living as it did in 
 a kind of republic, where they had all things in common, 
 even money, the chiefs of the community needed to be 
 careful as to their accounts. 
 
 Hal nodded to this good wife and that other, busy 
 about her afifairs, but he did not pause in his stride till he 
 came to the ancient market hall, called the " Hall of 
 Trials " because the produce of the country wives' bas- 
 kets who entered the city had commonly been " tried " or 
 assessed there for town dues. But since this custom took 
 end, which was when stalls and private booths arose in 
 the main market-place itself, the Trials' Hall in Hog 
 Lane had been used as a store-room for leather, and 
 part of it served on Sundays for the meeting-place of that 
 sect of gloomy sectarian cobblers. Here too the elder 
 men often worked with some sense of community, but 
 mostly in silence. If any were moved to speech his com-
 
 24 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 rades listened to him without interrupting for a moment 
 the play of their elbows. But there was no loud hum of 
 discussion such as continually arose between Presby- 
 terians and Independents. They were the Lord's own 
 peculiar people, and sure of the fact. So they sewed, 
 hammered, and waxed in silence, revolving and apprais- 
 ing each other's produce much as the city marshal had 
 been wont to do with the market baskets. 
 
 To Hal Ludlow's knock at the inner port (for the 
 outer gaped wide open) a deep voice responded, 
 " Brother, come thy way, in the Lord's name ! " 
 
 " Peace be with the brethren ! " said the young man 
 ritually. 
 
 " Peace also upon thee, brother, and on thy house ! " 
 came the response. 
 
 Hal stepped into the clear light of the many windows 
 which opened upon the court. The men were gathered 
 under the archways in groups of two and three, their 
 tools about them, jealously using the last hours of sun- 
 light and labour. It scarcely seemed that any lifted a 
 head, but Zachary Elsegood, their preacher and leader- 
 in-ordinary, welcomed the incomer. 
 
 " What brings you among men of peace, young Hal 
 Ludlow, clanking scabbard and tinkling spurs like the 
 Assyrian captains spoken of by the prophet Ezekiel ? " 
 
 " I have news for you," he answered gravely. The 
 lank and lathy men continued to moisten their bristles 
 and tighten their threads with swift convulsive jerkings 
 of the elbows, grimly spread-eagled over their work, 
 pulling and patting and hammering against time, with a 
 jealous God watching overhead and Oliver waiting for 
 his next six hundred pairs of riding-boots, wanted in 
 haste for the new Cambridgeshire men whose need was 
 daily more pressing. 
 
 " Tell thy news, brother," commanded Zachary Else- 
 good. " Exalt them that fear the Lord and bring to 
 naught the men of wrath."
 
 EXIT THE PHILANDERER 25 
 
 " The men of wrath do exalt themselves," said the 
 young man, seating himself on a table where skins lay 
 piled, and the sharp cuts in which showed for what 
 purpose leather had been shaped there. 
 
 " The Candishers are out and are sweeping down upon 
 us, burning and slaying as they come. The brethren 
 at Market Deeping are at their wit's end. If we do not 
 do something, French Drove and Gedney Hill will be 
 places of wailing and lamentation." 
 
 All the men were now looking up, their eyes gleaming 
 murkily out of the growing dusk. 
 
 " Say that again, young Master Ludlow — French 
 Drove and Gedney Hill I think you said ? " 
 
 " I did say so : I have the news from Levi AUister of 
 the Slepe Troop." 
 
 " And why are you not with that troop, young man ? 
 You were vaunting it enough when you last came here — 
 aye, and showing us our duty to join — us that are a 
 peculiar people ! " 
 
 Ah, why not indeed? It was an hard matter to tell 
 why, but Plal Ludlow took firm hold upon himself, for 
 he saw a remote chance. " They have cast me out ! " 
 he said doggedly. 
 
 " Praise the Lord ! " cried Zachary Elsegood, thrusting 
 his beard forward truculently. And all the other fen 
 cobblers cried out in chorus, " Praise the Lord ! " 
 
 For to be cast out could only mean one thing when it 
 happened to a scion of the house of Ludlow. The Lud- 
 lows were of the fine flour of the godly, and particularly 
 this young man, who took not after his father the Parlia- 
 ment Commissioner, but was like Wiltshire Harry and his 
 son Sir Edmond, an Anabaptist like themselves — or at 
 least would be when the heats of youth were over. 
 
 Hal decided to say nothing about philandering with 
 pretty Biddy and Bess in the Tithe House garden. He 
 was, according to Hog Lane, a martyr for Hog Lane 
 principles. Hal only hoped they would not put the
 
 26 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 question as to which particular doctrine had led to his 
 outcasting. He had suffered for the Saints, and the 
 extremists of them looked at him hopefully, wondering 
 if he might not be useful one day in helping to break 
 the power of that grasping and latitudinarian chief, 
 Zachary Elsegood. 
 
 For it is characteristic of Puritanism, both English 
 and Scottish, that there never was a sect, no matter how 
 small and narrow, but contained in it a kernel of some- 
 thing yet smaller, narrower, and more bitter. As in 
 the Holy Place there was a Holy of Holies, so in the 
 exalted community of Hog Lane there was an inner sect 
 of Enthusiasts ready to split and re-split infinitesimally 
 till some fiery Gossip Joan should define the future 
 prospects of the world's salvation : " There are only 
 John and me that are of the Elect, and I'm none so sure 
 of John ! " 
 
 " But I will try a fall with them myself, these plun- 
 derers and murderers, if I can get any to follow me as 
 far as Whittlesea. I know where they are lying this 
 night and to-morrow they will be too full fed with beef 
 and ale to stir far. Dick Lucy leads them — Dick the 
 Dandy — ah, with a dozen or two willing lads we could 
 break him once and for all. Then French Drove and 
 Gedney would be safe ! '' 
 
 " And why doth not your great Colonel Cromwell 
 make them safe?" cried Elsegood suspiciously. "He 
 has the power if he had the will." 
 
 " Surely," Hal answered readily, " but he must wait 
 his orders from the Association, who bid him remain 
 to protect Ely and the road to London. We of the Slepe 
 Troop were all ordered out to Soham yesterday ! " 
 
 " What to do there ? " demanded Zered Tuby, the 
 leader of the malcontents. He was a little man, slim 
 and active though prematurely wrinkled, his hair shining 
 as if with oil, everything about him sparkling, his eyes, 
 his teeth, his jet-black locks, in spite of a thick coat of
 
 EXIT THE PHILANDERER 27 
 
 dust which covered his bare hairy arms, his leathern 
 apron, and lay in curves about the wrinkles of his brow. 
 For Zered was of that sect of Anabaptists who believe 
 that having once bathed in the waters of baptism, it is 
 better to leave well alone. 
 
 But he was a man of force for all that, and Hal an- 
 swered him, " What to do at Soham, Zered Tuby — well, 
 I will tell you, knowing that I am among friends. 
 There are friends of the Wrath-men out that way — 
 Astley of Newmarket and others I need not put a name 
 to " 
 
 A deep growl went up. " No need — we know them ! " 
 
 " Aye, you know them, but though I am not good 
 enough for the Slepe Troop and Colonel Cromwell — the 
 others can account for them easily enough. It is Dick 
 Lucy and the folk of French Drove that lie on my mind. 
 Lucy knows of your coming hither to make boots for 
 the Parliament, and he has sworn to be revenged." 
 
 " Well, let him come and welcome, Hog Lane will be 
 proud to see him ! " 
 
 " Aye, aye, so 'twill, well spoke, and the power of the 
 Lord be upon you, Zachary Elsegood ! " 
 
 " Ah, men," said the young tempter on the table, as 
 he swung his legs and watched them furtively, " Dick 
 Lucy will not risk himself at Hog Lane. But he has 
 sworn to sweep the fens clear of your kinsfolk. You, 
 Zered, you have a father at home and two sisters, you, 
 Faithful-unto-Death Jackson, have a mother, a brother, 
 and a brother's wife " 
 
 " Aye, aye," cried Zered, throwing his rolled leather 
 apron down with a bang, " we have all kinsfolk out at 
 Gedney Hill — I more than most, but pray tell us how we 
 are to help. We cannot hunt down a band of mounted 
 men, with these poor legs of ours crippled by the lap- 
 stone." 
 
 " If any of you can ride I can find you horses, not yet 
 out of my father's hand — Kentish breed and good Essex
 
 28 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 stock from Danbury and Little Baddow. Henry Speak- 
 man bred and broke them. Arms too I can find." • 
 
 " No need — arms are not lacking in Hog Lane," said 
 Zered Tuby, " find you the horses and we will find the 
 arms. Though we are men of peace, we will defend our 
 own borders and put to flight the armies of the alien ! " 
 
 Zered assumed command of the gathering and as the 
 twiligiit was now so dark that none could continue to 
 work, all had gathered about him silent and listening. 
 
 " Bid the young men come in, also the foreman, Wolsey 
 Clarke. We shall let them know our mind." 
 
 The rules of Hog Lane were strict. The 'prentices to 
 the mystery worked all the morning with their own 
 masters to whom they were bound and in whose house 
 they abode. But during the afternoon they received 
 instruction from a senior set over them, which duty the 
 fathers of the craft took in turns. Thus the young men 
 learned self-reliance and their elders could discuss the 
 high matters of the community behind the closed doors 
 of the Market Hall. 
 
 They trooped in, three or four score young fellows so 
 lithe and limber that the very sight of them set Hal 
 Ludlow's mouth watering. With a few dozen of these 
 young sedge-cocks he could soon be as good a captain as 
 Harry Cromwell. 
 
 But he said nothing, only watched with eagerness 
 as they ranged themselves along the wall opposite the 
 windows. They listened while Zered Tuby told them 
 of the raid which threatened the villages where they had 
 played and the kindly folk whom they loved. It was 
 hard to be set to making boot-soles in such stirring 
 times, and in spite of all warnings and forbiddings the 
 Hog Lane band of 'prentices lost one or two forward 
 lads every muster day to Manchester's foot or Colonel 
 Cromwell's horse. 
 
 " Now, Wolsey Clarke, you that were Scout-master 
 to the great Gustavus, you know our lads as none else
 
 EXIT THE PHILANDERER 29 
 
 can — tell us which of them can ride. All can fight, but 
 not all can ride attd fight." 
 
 " I will answer," said the burly giant Wolsey Clarke, 
 " all can ride and all can fight. I do not say that they 
 will turn and pivot at a review like the Swedish guard 
 royal. But for a charge and a brush with Lucy's Can- 
 dishers I warrant them. I would that I could go with 
 them, but a wooden-legged man is no man in a saddle — 
 not at least in a campaign which, after all, is only a dash- 
 and-be-done with it ! " 
 
 Zachary Elsegood, Zered Tuby, and Wolsey Clarke 
 resolved themselves into a committee of selection, and 
 within half an hour Hal Ludlow found himself giving 
 instructions to as likely a set of young fellows as ever 
 joined a foray or threw leg across saddle leather. 
 
 The horses were to be taken from the stables at ten 
 of the clock. All the town would then be bedded down, 
 and Hal would see that the grooms were out of the way. 
 For the present he would say nothing to his father. If 
 the matter turned out well, he would have earned the 
 thanks of the Houses — if otherwise — it was most un- 
 likely that his father would ever again be troubled either 
 with horses or son.
 
 Ill 
 
 HOG LANE 
 
 "fT^HEY do not know it in Hog Lane and it will 
 I be none of your business to tell them, but I 
 have ridden in harness before this night — aye, 
 and seen towns taken and streets ablaze — God forgive me 
 — I was then an unsanctified vessel of wrath. But you 
 will be none the worse of Zered Tuby's advice among 
 all these boys ! " 
 
 They were now riding well clear of Ely, and the waste 
 of Chatteris fens spread before them clear to Stan- 
 ground and Bedford Old Level. Behind them the cathe- 
 dral towers still loomed up against a pale sky. They 
 rode freely on into the night. Hamlets were few and 
 small in that marshy country and the inhabitants little 
 inclined to curiosity. The trampling of horses was no 
 uncommon sound, for they were still so close in to Ely 
 that the shadow of Colonel Cromwell seemed to cover the 
 land. The enemy would never harm them while he kept 
 watch yonder. Steadily two by two they rode with 
 greater distance between them than trained cavalry would 
 have used, only tailing out a little also to the rear, where 
 the men were placed who had not yet got well into 
 touch with their horses. Still, in spite of all, the march 
 was proceeding creditably, and, if they were not quite 
 the Slepe Troop, at least they were of similar materials 
 and fully minded to meet foray by foray. Their disposi- 
 tion may be judged by the short dialogue which took place 
 in the third rank between Egbert Oaks and David Pas- 
 cal, bold 'prentices both and Hog Laners to their very 
 marrow. 
 
 30
 
 HOG LANE 81 
 
 " This Lucy has sworn to sweep the fens of us," 
 whispered Egbert Oaks, who sat his horse as if he were 
 part of it. 
 
 " Hum ! " quoth Pascal, " we shall see when we meet 
 how he handles the broom. He may find something 
 stift'cr than dirt to try his hand upon, as Harry Crom- 
 well sent him w^ord." 
 
 " They be going Gedney way — Lord send they do not 
 fash my old mother — what think you — would they touch 
 hoar hairs? " 
 
 "Lord help them if they do, hoar hair or brown!" 
 responded Pascal fiercely. " I say, Egbert, there was 
 nowt said about the giving of quarter ? " 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
 "Thank God!" 
 
 Passing March, they skirted the reedy sedges bordering 
 the great Mere, keeping to the drier eastern side, and so 
 rode straight for New Bridge where the road crosses into 
 the Droves. The fenmen were now in their own country 
 and knew their way as Zered Tuby said " by the crowing 
 of the cocks." " Broad Drove rooster do sing at mid- 
 night! " a wise rider averred. " Lincoln Leyburn's have 
 got a pea in his throat. Hear to him ! " And he would 
 have imitated the effect but for Hal Ludlow's curt order 
 to cease fooling. All was now well-kenned ground. 
 They discussed where they would find the enemy quar- 
 tered. The twenty miles had been eaten up by good 
 direct leading and fresh horses. 
 
 French Drove lay before them, and the road across the 
 fens by which would come the Wisbeach men became 
 clear to their eyes in the dewy glimmer of the summer 
 night. A mist slight but searching lay on the fens — the 
 shaking mist, the men called it. 
 
 " Out with the strong waters," they whispered to 
 Zered Tuby, " or in half an hour we shall all be quaking 
 like aspens." 
 
 " Aye," grunted the little shiny-locked man, producing
 
 32 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 a narrow-necked stone jar, " us have been too long in 
 Hog Lane. Other times we could ha' watched all night 
 by Broad Mere for ducks and been no whit the worse, 
 but now a whiff sets us sneezing." And he passed the 
 bottle round. 
 
 " One firm tot, lads, and no more. David Pascal, you 
 get none next time. I heard your throat gurgle twice." 
 
 •' It were so sharp it caught my breath," the young 
 man explained, not without a privy grin, " but I do 
 admit that it makes a man rare and comfortable under 
 the belt such a night as this." 
 
 Two young French Drovers were sent forward to spy 
 out their village and returned with the news that nothing 
 had been heard there of the raiders, except that many 
 Gedney families had crossed into " the shire " for greater 
 safety — the Candishers under Dick Lucy being notoriously 
 given to the burning of farms and the mishandling of 
 women. Abel Kesteven had been hung in his own byre- 
 court for refusing to guide them in search of treasure. 
 They had tilted up the poor gaffer's own cart, hung him 
 to the shafts, and driven off the horses. But they had 
 not waited to see him fairly dead. So by last accounts, 
 Abel, cut down in time, had been resuscitated, and with 
 no more than an ugly red rim about his neck, was still 
 to be seen refreshing himself with pudding and double 
 Huntingdon ale. 
 
 Every rider was now alert for Gedney Hill. For it 
 was a hill, or rather a ridge, no more by comparison than 
 a vein upon the back of a man's hand, but in the eyes 
 of the fen folk a veritable mountain chain. It had a top 
 indeed — that was incontestable — and as they rode along 
 the Lincoln track, it came into sight. The square tower 
 of the church, from which the roofs ran red-tiled and 
 many-angled down each slope. " Gedney Hill at last ! " 
 The Hog Laners drew breath with a gasp of relief. At 
 least it had not been burnt like the other villages of the 
 Low Levels. No hither-and-thither of torches — no flam-
 
 HOG LANE 33 
 
 ing stacks and stack-yards — no pour of startled fugitives 
 running wild into the night. Had Hog Lane been de- 
 ceived? Had its good faith been played upon? Was 
 this a plot to get them to commit themselves by waging 
 war a score of miles from home? 
 
 A growing uneasiness manifested itself among the 
 troop, but Zered Tuby bade them be prepared. The 
 enemy, according to Scripture, would come like a thief 
 in the night. And as if to prove his words out of the 
 rough grass ahead rose the figures of a dozen human 
 beings. The locks of pistols clicked back. The matches 
 for the muskets were blown alight. 
 
 " Hold there ! " cried Hal Ludlow, just in time — 
 seeing clear under the glimmer of the low-lying star-dust 
 and into the summer night which is never wholly dark 
 on these east-looking levels. " Do not fire a shot, or 
 we may bring the whole wasp's nest upon us. Gipsies, 
 I tell you, not Cavaliers ! " And he interrogated rapidly 
 the leader of the band. The troop surrounded them, and 
 yet they seemed in no ways dismayed, though the 
 appearance of mounted men suddenly coming upon 
 them out of the blue deeps of the night must have been 
 far from reassuring. 
 
 " Whence do you come, and whither are you go- 
 ing?" 
 
 The bearded patriarch with the flowing locks who led 
 them turned his head about the circle of crowding horse- 
 men. He regarded the stars over their heads. He lifted 
 up his arms with a large vague gesture, a royal gesture, 
 that of a king without a country, and announced in a 
 voice guttural and harsh : " From anywhere to anywhere, 
 my lord the soldier, we are gitanos. We go on, march, 
 march, marching till we die." 
 
 Hal sounded them as to other troops of soldiers whom 
 they might have fallen in with. 
 
 " Aye," came from a girl who stood close by Hal 
 Ludlow's stirrup gazing upward at him, as if trying to
 
 34 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 read something out of the figure silhouetted darkly 
 against the indigo vault and the fading stars, " aye, 
 master soldier, I saw them watching with matches 
 burning just like yours. I crept up close. It was on the 
 wood-edge across the valley below the church, and I 
 heard one say that they would attack at daybreak. They 
 would see better what they were doing, and then the fen 
 folk would not escape for they could be ridden down in 
 the open." 
 
 You should have seen the men of Hog Lane gather up 
 their bridle-reins at the word. 
 
 " Come and guide us," said Hal, reaching out his foot 
 in the stirrup. The girl took it as a bird does a perch, 
 and in a moment was beside him in the saddle, her little 
 hands clasping his broad sword belt. 
 
 " Open out there," he ordered, " let the rest go. The 
 girl will show us how to overtake them. She can ride 
 back with us when this job's done. We shall do her no 
 harm ! " 
 
 " No, we be good Christian men," Zered assured the 
 tribe with quite unwonted amenity, but the chief threw 
 back his head and laughed in his face. 
 
 " Aye," he said, " we are ignorant men — poor wander- 
 ing pagans — but we know you Christians. We have bled 
 under your Christian scourges. We have sat in your 
 Christian stocks and tasted the goodness of your 
 Christian mob. As for the girl, she is none of ours — 
 she can please herself. If she will guide you to kill 
 your fellow Christians, so much the better for the foot- 
 marchers." 
 
 " Go your ways," said Hal. " This is no time or place 
 for uncivil tongues ! " 
 
 " Let him go," whispered a voice from behind ; " the 
 grandad hath been tried to-day — twice overhauled for 
 money by soldiers and his poor duds shaken out like an 
 empty bag." 
 
 Hal produced a handful of small change and passed it
 
 HOG LANE 35 
 
 over to the chief, overreaching a number of eagerly 
 clutching hands. 
 
 " There, father, -wish, us luck and part friends." 
 
 The Hog Laners eager to be gone opened out and the 
 little band of outcasts rambled off in the same listless 
 way as they had come into view. The hazard of the road 
 lay behind and before them. All to them was equal. 
 No glance towards the small figure caught up behind 
 Hal Ludlow. None indeed wasted anywhere — heads a 
 little bowed, feet planted to go forward, and so under 
 the gaze of the silent troop forward and onward they 
 went till the dark grey fen swallowed them up. 
 
 The dawn-wind began to rise up out of the east, dry 
 and brusque. So it did every morning in Kesteven and 
 the Holland fens. The Spalding men called it " the wind 
 that sharpens the nose." It certainly gave them that 
 rascal accent which they carried all the way to New 
 England with them in the bad years before Cromwell and 
 the Long Parliament. 
 
 The Hog Laners defiled across the slope of Gedney 
 Hill. A rugged country lay beneath them, coarse bushes 
 of willow, clumps of elder and birch, mixed with occa- 
 sional scrub oak and Royston hazel. 
 
 " There ! " whispered the maid behind Hal, shooting 
 an arm under his bridle hand and pointing to the eastern 
 corner of the scrub. " They are hiding yonder, but they 
 will attack at dawn ! I heard them say so." 
 
 Hal turned in his saddle and addressed the Hog 
 Laners. 
 
 " We might attack them, but they would hear our 
 horses and make ofif. We would never track them in 
 that brush wood. We could not charge them there. 
 Better wait here on their flank with the advantage of 
 the hill and go at them as they come." 
 
 There was some threatening of discord. For the Hog 
 Laners were very near their old homes, and they yearned 
 to dismount and fight the cottages and cabbage gardens.
 
 36 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 each man for his mother, his sister, or his rem.oter 
 kin. 
 
 But it was clear that the advantage was all with the 
 attacking party, and by dismounting they would throw 
 away that advantage. 
 
 " You shall do as you are bidden, Jekel Ransome, and 
 you Egbert Oaks — we shall keep your mother's house 
 better by never letting the Candishers come near it." 
 
 Such was the order of Zered Tuby who, though revolu- 
 tionary in peace times, believed in supporting authority 
 when it came to the clash of arms. 
 
 " Thank you," whispered Hal, sincerely grateful ; " I 
 shall not forget." 
 
 " Oh, Hog Lane is all right, only pigs and pig-skin need 
 managing. A leetle farther over to give the horses time 
 to find their stride. So — now, lads, be ready. Fear the 
 Lord and naught else. The enemy shall be as chaff be- 
 fore the wind when Hog Lane comes to prove its arms. 
 The dead praise not the Lord, neither them that go 
 down to the place of silence. See that ye serve Him 
 with lusty strokes upon the crowns of His enemies. "- 
 
 It is a fine thing, to be sure. Hog Lane was the Lord's 
 people, elect and peculiar. The Lucy raiders were His 
 enemies, already accursed and as good as dead. The 
 worst part was done already. As Hog Lane would have 
 expressed it, the matter " came to ripeness " sooner than 
 they had anticipated. A small hand darted again under 
 Hal's armpit. " Yonder," the girl whispered, " they are 
 mounting ! " 
 
 And she was right. Matches glimmered in the dusk 
 of the alder coppices. Dark shadows moved cautiously 
 out and officers went hither and thither ordering the 
 march. They were early and there was plenty of time. 
 They would surround the village before dawn so that 
 none could escape. 
 
 Hal Ludlow had no mind to charge with that girl 
 bumping on his saddle. It would spoil his sword-play
 
 HOG LANE 37 
 
 completely merely to have to think of such a thing. He 
 might lop a child's limb — faugh! — and never get the 
 thing out of his mind till the day of his death. 
 
 So he pointed to the square church tower on the hill 
 of Gedney, now growing more distinct against an amber 
 and primrose sky. 
 
 " See, little one," he said, " go up yonder and as soon 
 as you hear us shout, ring the bell, or if you cannot, find 
 someone that will. Where does the sexton live, Dave 
 Pascal? Next but one on this side of the church — you 
 hear, little one. Now down with you." 
 
 He held his foot well out and the girl glided down like 
 a serpent. She sped away into the dawn, her hair float- 
 ing behind her, and Hal drew a long breath and then 
 expelled it from his lungs with relish. 
 
 " That was a relief, indeed," he said to his lieutenant 
 Zered. And he tightened his belt a couple of holes after 
 pulling up his coat on either side so that his arms might 
 have free play. Hog Lane, cobbler fashion, spat in his 
 palm. 
 
 " Fall on — no pistol shooting — that's Cromwell's way. 
 Drive the horses straight upon them and let the steel talk. 
 Steady there on the left. Now let them have it ! " 
 
 The enemy were just beginning to climb the little hill, 
 but the Hog Laners did not even give them time to 
 change front. The sun rose out of the fen and tinged 
 with red the swords of the Hog Laners as they flashed 
 in the air. When they had fallen once, they glowed no 
 more. They went through the enemy as fire through 
 stubble, even as Zered had prophesied. But the clang of 
 their meeting and the horrid noise of men and horses 
 rolling on the ground together in a clatter of accoutre- 
 ments were drowned in the deep universal shout of the 
 Hog Laners. Instantly the bell of the church clanged 
 wildly out. Hal was seeking out Dick Lucy, whom he 
 could see trying to rally his men, but as he cut and 
 slashed a way to him he wondered if "that wisp" had
 
 38 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 found the sexton or if she were at that moment leaping 
 and pulling at the bell-rope up in the tower. Then, still 
 fighting his best, he wondered why he should wonder. 
 What strange things went on in men's heads when their 
 eyes and hands were busy! 
 
 But the Candishers had no coherence. They were 
 raffish fellows mostl3^ gathered from nowhere and any- 
 where by the hope of plunder — bull-baiters from wicked 
 Stamford Town and deserters from Lynn Leaguer — Dick, 
 Tom, and hungry Harry from the loafers' corner of every 
 town and hamlet in the ten eastern counties. Who were 
 they to stand against Hog Lane? Every man of them 
 knew that if he died he would, according to a belief so 
 universal as to compel his own reluctant consent, go 
 straight to Hell. As for Hog Lane, the Lord of Hosts 
 was its sun and shield, and its welcome into Heaven 
 would be that of good and brave soldiers going home. 
 
 Only Dick Lucy of Charicote and his man Wallop stood 
 firm, and when at last Hal Ludlow reached them they 
 kept grimly together. Hal attacked alone, for Hog Lane, 
 not yet broken to discipline, was pursuing the fleeing 
 foe across the levels. He was therefore in some con- 
 siderable jeopardy, for both men pulled their pistols upon 
 him as they saw him come. With a swerve of his rein 
 he turned Hereward aside just in time to spoil their aim. 
 But Wallop drew another pistol, one called a " snap 
 haunch,'' from his holster, and it came very near being 
 all over with the Captain of the Hog Laners in the very 
 hour of his triumph. 
 
 But even as the trigger finger of the servitor Wallop 
 crooked about the pull, and a man's life hung on the fall 
 of the dog, a loud report startled the horses. Wallop 
 swayed in his saddle and fell prone, while Dick Lucy, 
 smitten on the casque by Hal's sword, was beaten to the 
 ground, where presently he yielded himself prisoner, his 
 wits still wandering, as it seemed, for he stood disarmed, 
 rubbing his steel cap from which the fair ringlets hung to
 
 HOG LANE 39 
 
 his shoulders, and muttering, " It was a girl, or the 
 devil in the shape of a girl — she did it ! " 
 
 The next moment Hal felt something softly familiar 
 behind him. His belt was grasped and a voice said in his 
 ear: 
 
 " Anybody can pull any old bell-rope, but I got the 
 sexton's gun and came back as fast as I could run. HI 
 had not, he would have popped you! Good luck I 
 came ! " 
 
 " Good luck indeed, little one, and thank you," quoth 
 Hal carelessly over his shoulder. 
 
 " Do you know, I don't believe you have ever looked 
 at me. I am not so very httle." 
 
 Hal Ludlow hastily turned his head and looked. 
 
 " Great God," he exclaimed, " it's a woman ! " 
 
 " Twelve pence for swearing. Captain ! " grinned 
 Zered Tuby as he rode up with a couple of horses in 
 leash behind and the battle sweat not yet dry on him.
 
 IV 
 
 "FOR THE HOUSES AND THE LORD!" 
 
 HOG LANE had won a wonderful victory, but then 
 the Lord was the Lord and Hog Lane was Hog 
 Lane. There were no prisoners except Dick 
 Lucy, and in his direction many angry glances were 
 directed. So Saul had spared Agag of Amalek, and all 
 Hog Laners knew what had come of that. Still, the 
 Captain had passed his word — they could not get behind 
 the fact. After all it was his own affair. Right valiantly 
 Hog Lane had done its part, smiting the Amalekites hip 
 and thigh, but to be accurate, more particularly on the 
 head. There was great shearing of love locks that morn- 
 ing, and the Candishers would learn to leave Gedney 
 Hill alone from that day forth. They had gotten their 
 " kail through the reek " — an instalment on account pend- 
 ing full settlement on Gainsborough day, when Charles 
 Cavendish " of the best blood in England " was to be 
 " thrust through by an officer of ours," deftly done too, 
 between the short ribs, and no more said about it than if 
 he had been a common clown caught in arms against the 
 Parliament. 
 
 Plunder too accrued to Hog Lane — to each man a 
 horse or two, some saddled and accoutremented for war, 
 some of the cart-horse breed, very useful, and saddle 
 beasts not a few laden with booty and provend. 
 
 Ely clocks were striking noon with much lingering 
 clangour when a weary cavalcade rode up to the great 
 open gate of the Tithing Yard. Hal Ludlow came first, 
 his captive behind him, solidly guarded by a detach- 
 ment from Hog Lane under Zered Tuby. For though 
 
 40
 
 "FOR THE HOUSES AND THE LORD!" 41 
 
 none of the troop which had ridden through French 
 Drove to Gedney Hill feared the face of man, some 
 of them made an exception in favour of Colonel Crom- 
 well. 
 
 The Tithing House family were just sitting down to 
 dinner and at the sound of the shod feet of horses, always 
 the sweetest music in his ears, Colonel Cromwell came 
 forth and stood on the steps with a white napkin in his 
 hand. Bridget and Bess ran to the window and stood 
 there waving surreptitious welcomes directly over their 
 father's head. Evidently something had happened and 
 perhaps, who knew, they would get back their gossip 
 Hal again. 
 
 " Well," said the Colonel, glowering down upon the 
 cavalcade, on the prisoner and the swarthy assured 
 countenances of Hog Lane on its borrowed horses. 
 " Well, sirrah, what may this mean ? " 
 
 " It means. Colonel," answered Hal, " that by the help 
 of these good fellows I have smitten the Candishers, 
 destroyed four troops of them under Captain Richard 
 Lucy of Charlcote whom I now present to you." 
 
 " He is all that remains — pray look at him well," put 
 in Zered Tuby who hated being silent when another man 
 talked. " We smote every Amalekite, yea, with the 
 sword of the Lord and Gideon, we smote them ! " 
 
 " So," said Colonel Cromwell, turning an eye upon 
 him, " and speaking thus and fighting thus, why have 
 you not taken service with me?" 
 
 " We are men of Gedney, dwellers in Hog Lane. We 
 make boots and shoes for your armies. But for us you 
 would ride bare-toes to stirrup-iron. No man can do 
 more than one thing well at a time." 
 
 " Ah," said Cromwell, " Anabaptists — I understand. 
 So, Master Hal, you have done your deed and captured 
 your man. I thought you took the matter somewhat 
 calmly yesterday. You had a scheme at the back of 
 your head — an excellent thing to have! Well, take
 
 42 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 your prisoner to Mr. Hicks at the Bridewell and bid him 
 care for Master Lucy along with the other exchangers. 
 Here — give him my authority (he scribbled some words 
 in a notebook, tore out the leaf and handed it to Hal), 
 and then if you will come back to dinner we will talk 
 over the affair of the Slepe Troop — also you will tell me 
 of this most welcome riddance which the Lord hath 
 wrought at Gedney. Give Him the glory, Hal — I missed 
 that point in your first report." 
 
 " Colonel," said Hal, " by your leave I shall call on 
 you to-night — this afternoon even, but I must first 
 render back these riding horses to my father, and then 
 to thank my good friends of Hog Lane for their valiance 
 — for without them I could have done nothing, and by 
 this time all the northern Droves would have been 
 wasted, farm, cottage, and hamlet." 
 
 " Do so, then, friend Hal. My service to your father, 
 and tell him not to be too severe with you as to the 
 horses. I shall account with him for any losses." 
 
 " Us can do that without 'ee. Muster Crum'ell," said 
 Zered, " there be naught but one mare that grit Roger 
 Tebbut rode overly hard down hill, and we have taken 
 horses sufficient to horse all Hog Lane twice over ! " 
 
 " So much the better, friend Anabaptist," said Crom- 
 well dryly, " certes, it seems to me that one might find 
 better employment for you than sewing shoe leather, 
 pricking with elsins, and hammering on boot heels." 
 
 " And pray who made you the boots in which you 
 stand up? Any complaints about them? None! And 
 the last you paid so dear for in London Cheap? How 
 many times did you lose twelve pence by condemning 
 them unseemly before the troop ? " 
 
 The grim features of the Discipliner relaxed and he 
 shook a forefinger at Zered. 
 
 " Sam Squire hath been talking, friend, I see. It was 
 only once, and that for a word which I might have passed 
 over in a trooper."
 
 " FOR THE HOUSES AND THE LORD ! " 43 
 
 The girls overhead craned their necks and were con- 
 sumed with the envy of knowing what was the word their 
 father had let escape him. 
 
 " Lucky we are not so tempted/' whispered Bess, " if 
 these fine big words were forbidden us, I declare I should 
 swear myself into bankruptcy!" 
 
 Hog Lane clattered out of the presence after a grudg- 
 ing salute. For Hog Lane's did no eye service and 
 Colonel Cromwell smiled a well-satisfied smile as he saw 
 them go. Here was plenty of good material yet 
 untouched, and he knew how to use it. Naturally 
 he sympathised with all sectarians, all outstanders, 
 all thinkers for themselves, insisting upon uniformity 
 only in the matter of the regiments and their regula- 
 tions. 
 
 " A clever young fellow, this Hal Ludlow," he 
 meditated, " with a little high-mindedness which in 
 another might be insolence, but directed in a godly 
 fashion may be of much service. The lad is no mealy- 
 mouthed prater, and I suppose he will end by getting 
 his troop. He is young, but already he hath proved 
 himself. I think no worse of him that he hath an eye 
 for an honest maid. It were no bad thing — well, well — 
 we shall see — what we shall see." 
 
 And so smiling and muttering the great man went 
 back to the dinner which his dame was, with flustered 
 patience, keeping hot for him. 
 
 Meanwhile Hal Ludlow had his own thoughts, also 
 matters on hand which could not wait. He rode through 
 the streets to Hog Lane, the men following close behind. 
 He found that narrow thoroughfare blocked and 
 guarded. Half Ely was crowding about the entrance. 
 
 " Way there," he shouted, " Colonel Cromwell's 
 orders ! " 
 
 A path was made and the men and their captures 
 passed on through a turmoil of admiration and jealousy. 
 But the son of the Commissioner was a known man and
 
 44 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 the name of the First Ironside, Oliver, governor of Ely 
 City, carried far even in these very early days. 
 
 Into Hog Lane then rode Hal, his prisoner, and the 
 troop. They came into a sound of singing, and before 
 them they saw Zachary Elsegood leading a psalm. The 
 'prentices hastily formed up at a word from Hal, and of 
 their own initiative took off their helmets, hanging them 
 on the saddle-bow in front of them. 
 
 "Praise God from whom all blessings How." 
 
 Hal uncovered also, and signed to his captive to do the 
 same. But young Lucy was obdurate and clapped his 
 gilt casque more firmly upon his head. It was not wisely 
 done, for Egbert Oaks, just behind, knocked it up with 
 a musket butt. 
 
 " Do not be a fool, Lucy," whispered Hal, " it took all 
 my authority to save you. These fellows are new to the 
 business and obey with difficulty." 
 
 " I am disgraced," groaned Lucy, " I shall never dare 
 to look General Cavendish in the face." 
 
 " Cheer up, 'tis the fortune of war," said the victor, 
 " your turn next time." Their talk was covered by the 
 thunderous chanting of Hog Lane. Between the ranks 
 of the horses a slim girl's figure glided, and next moment 
 Lucy's damascened helmet was rescued from the dust 
 and set upon the saddle-bow of his conqueror. 
 
 Hal nodded his thanks, but presently forgot her again 
 when silence was made. Then he called upon the troop 
 which had ridden with him to deliver up their captured 
 horses to his father. On the way he deposited young 
 Lucy with the turnkey, promising to see him on the 
 morrow and if possible interest his father in effecting 
 an exchange — " which (said Hal meaningly) is more 
 than you would have done for me if you had beaten us 
 and fired Gedney ! " And he made the gesture of tighten- 
 ing a rope about his own neck. The young fellow flushed
 
 "FOR THE HOUSES AND THE LORD!" 45 
 
 for his conscience was anything but easy. " Our general 
 is hard driven," he said, " what has been done was not 
 done by my will. I acted always upon orders." 
 
 " Lucky for you, friend," retorted Hal, " that I acted 
 without any — or you would not now have been at the 
 door of Ely prison. 'Tis not a palace quite, but you will 
 have company and be more comfortable than a-swing 
 on the branch of a Gedney apple tree! Ho, there! 
 Hicks, Turnkey Haggai Llicks, do not keep Colonel 
 Cromwell's messenger waiting ! " 
 
 At that formidable name the doors fell back as at a 
 magic " Open Sesame." 
 
 " Colonel Cromwell's compliments to Mr. Hicks and 
 he bids him keep Mr. Richard Lucy in all safety and with 
 what comfort is possible — also that he shall give him 
 communication with the other prisoners. File out 
 there!" 
 
 Hog Lane was becoming quite malleable. It went 
 to his heart to lose so many fine soldiers. What a troop 
 he could soon gather if only — well, he would see his 
 father. The residence of the Parliamentary Commis- 
 sionary for the Eastern Association was not so roomy 
 and spacious as the Tithing House, but the feature which 
 fitted it for a base of supplies was the immense array of 
 barns and stables surrounding it, which had formerly 
 been occupied by the Commission of Array. Hal found 
 his father in his temporary office making believe to be 
 immersed in business. But the good easy man had al- 
 ready slipped behind a cushion the book he had been 
 reading, and rose to receive his visitors with scarcely 
 concealed ill-humour. When he saw his son, however, 
 his mood changed. 
 
 No soldier himself, and in all respects peaceably 
 minded, he yet longed for military distinction, and be- 
 lieved that his son would realise his dreams. 
 
 " Why, Hal," he cried, " have they given you a troop, 
 lad? They will look well in the new uniforms — red
 
 46 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 coats come down from White Chapel and the villages 
 thereabout, all piled in the West Barn — no more mis- 
 takes and one Parliament troop charging another as at 
 Saffron last week — what say you, Hal? " 
 
 " I say, father, that there is no troop for me till I 
 have gathered men and horses." 
 
 The bald smooth-faced man waved a hand affably in 
 the direction of Hog Lane, sitting their horses patiently, 
 but with some contempt. 
 
 " Who then may these be upon my horses? I presume 
 you had the Colonel's permission. You might have 
 asked mine also." 
 
 " You were asleep and I cared not about waking you, 
 sir. Besides, the service was secret and urgent. We 
 delivered French Drove and Gedney, kept our borders 
 clear, broke and slew four troops of Candishers and took 
 prisoner their leader, young Lucy of Charlcote." 
 
 " And who did all that — not you, Hal ? " 
 
 " Not I, father. These good friends of mine did the 
 work. The honour belongs to them — to them and 
 (suddenly mindful of his duty) — to the God of Battles." 
 
 Hal had to be careful of Hog Lane prejudices, es- 
 pecially as he had something to ask of them. Accord- 
 ingly feeling the moment to be heavy with fate, he turned 
 Hereward about and addressed them face to face. 
 
 " Lads," he said, " you are good soldiers and the 
 enemies of the Cause are numerous. You have seen 
 to-night what a few men like you can do. Let the elders 
 among you continue to make boots, but God and the 
 Colonel need soldiers to wear them. Your women and 
 children need soldiers to protect them. Where would 
 they have been now if I had not mustered you? The 
 men and young boys and white-headed grandfathers 
 lying in their blood — your mothers wailing over their 
 burned houses, your sisters and kinswomen — but I 
 speak not the shame you know. Why not serve a while 
 in the army of the Lord, for the sake of His Cause and
 
 " FOR THE HOUSES AND THE LORD ! " 47 
 
 for the safety of those dear to you ? I ask not the elders. 
 That were too much to expect, and besides they are 
 needed in their own business. Come now, out with it. 
 Who will keep his beast and ride with me? Ye have 
 proven me. Cutting leather is no young man's trade 
 these days " 
 
 " No," cried Zered Tuby, snatching his black helmet 
 from his head, " the curse of Meroz — think of the curse 
 of Meroz ! ' Curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof, 
 because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the 
 help of the Lord against the mighty.' " 
 
 " God bless you, Zered," cried Hal, from his heart, 
 for he had not dreamed of such an ally, " stand by me 
 and together we shall have the best troop in the New 
 Model." 
 
 Hog Lane paused uncertain. Each man had gone his 
 own way so long that a general decision was difficult. 
 
 " Come — this way with you — all you young fellows 
 who are willing to stand such another fight as we fought 
 last night. Nerve to your arms, life to your hearts, and 
 God's blessing on all who will run the hazard ! " 
 
 Slowly and almost sullenly Hog Lane obeyed the 
 summons of Zered Tuby, the man who was of themselves, 
 bom in the Anabaptist purple, a Pharisee of the Phari- 
 sees. A good score swung into rank behind him, while 
 the others still hung undecided, thinking what fathers 
 and masters might say. 
 
 " Fear no man," cried Zered, divining their thoughts, 
 " I will answer for you to Hog Lane. Zachary Elsegood 
 cannot hinder you. Have you not saved Gedney and 
 French Drove, besides all the hamlets of the fen? You 
 have rooted out one band of the ungodly, but there are 
 many others. They will come again always from the 
 North, which is the country of the Scarlet Woman. Ye 
 have given her a sore shog, but do not flatter yourselves. 
 Babylon the Great is not yet fallen. Come, Issachar 
 Sprigg of Stranground ! Be a strong ass, if ass you must
 
 48 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 be. Crouch not too long between two burdens! You, 
 Shem Quarles, think shame ! And your sweetheart's 
 tears hardly dry on your coat sleeve because of the 
 safety you brought her. Turn about and get to your 
 place. For the women and children, for the grandfathers 
 and the child unborn, for the lasses you will marry, for 
 the swept hearths and unburned roofs — for Gedney and 
 the fens, for the Houses and the Lord — into place with 
 you there ! Wheel, I tell you ! Stand not halting be- 
 tween two opinions. Forward there, Alured Promise, 
 let me see you perform. Good lad, good lads all. Now 
 we shall ride back and let them see the Hog Lane 
 Troop ! " 
 
 " Now give the word — quick — set them moving ! " he 
 whispered to Hal, " they will not stop now if we keep 
 them to it." 
 
 " Two's to the right, file out there — sling carbines ! 
 Carry swords ! " 
 
 And with a little rough dressing, hardly the Slepe 
 Troop itself made a finer appearance than the Hog 
 Laners on the eve of their first recruitment, as they 
 marched back to announce their decision to the elders 
 of their people.
 
 V 
 "SLEEP WELL, CAPTAIN LUDLOW!" 
 
 BEFORE they found their straw pallets within the 
 barns of the Commissioner's house, the new troop 
 proceed to choose its officers. 
 
 For Captain: Henry Ludlow the Younger. 
 
 Lieutenant: Zered Tuby of Hog Lane. 
 
 " And with these our officers we will serve — under 
 Cromwell and none other, so long as he be in life — ex- 
 cepting only by his express orders — and if the needs of 
 the service so demand. We submit to all his discipline, 
 but we swear no oaths — our word being according to 
 our conscience, and all under God." 
 
 So they passed their statutes in the quaint formal 
 phrases which now may seem empty but were then so 
 full of meaning. But they meant what they said, these 
 Egberts, Alureds, Piouses, and Love-the-Lords. Strange 
 in other times seem their names. Hardly can one think 
 of them as young men all under thirty (except Zered 
 Tuby alone), full of rich young blood, with bounteous 
 natural gifts, loving life, loving their sweethearts, and 
 looking forward to a home and children. They were, in 
 fact, ordinary young men of an extraordinary time, the 
 like of them only to be found in rugged New England 
 fighting the savages — and that only because these colo- 
 nists between Cape Cod and Casco were their cousins and 
 uncles — the neighbours and kinsfolk of the men who 
 listed to follow Cromwell and make a troop for Hal 
 Ludlow when he had fallen under the displeasure of his 
 chief in the beautiful Tithe House garden at Ely, in 
 
 49
 
 50 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 which the sun-dial still stands, cracked but faithful, to 
 witness if I lie. 
 
 That evening at six o'clock exactly Hal took the 
 original of the Hog Lane Troop statutes and the roll of 
 enlisted members to the Tithe House. He was demurely 
 received by the girls, with side glances which intimated 
 to him that Colonel Cromwell was in the adjoining room 
 and might be expected to enter at any moment. But 
 at any rate just then Hal was in no mood for Puss-in-the- 
 Corner. He must convince a man very hard to be 
 convinced. 
 
 They sat down to supper and Hal had his precious 
 papers on the tablecloth beside his plate. He saw the 
 eagle eye of the commander stoop upon them like a hawk 
 upon a hare. 
 
 " For me? " he queried — " from your father? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Hal, instinctively laying his hand upon 
 them, " not from my father. For you, certainly, but they 
 are private." 
 
 " Well enough said, Hal," laughed Cromwell, " this is 
 no time for secrets. Help yourself to the brawn, or what 
 do you say to cold duck? My good dame will see that 
 you want not for sweets. She hath the knack of a cus- 
 tard, and I warrant you are hungry enough." 
 
 " Indeed I am — I have not tasted bite or sup since last 
 night, and I was so busy that I forgot all about 
 dinner " 
 
 " Oh," cried Bess Cromwell, " to think of it — when 
 you might have stayed — and we had roast pig with 
 crackling ! " 
 
 They laughed at this, for Bess was called the family 
 glutton. And they were exceedingly merry, even the 
 Colonel jesting in his grave way, for at this evening meal, 
 with his family about him, he was wont to unbend more 
 than at all the other hours of the day. He told tales of 
 wise ministers and preachers whom he had known — wiser 
 than those of that day, in that they fed the flock and let
 
 "SLEEP WELL, CAPTAIN LUDLOW!" 51 
 
 politics alone — how Mr. Rogers of Dedham, ambling on 
 his ancient pony, was asked by a young fop what made 
 his horse's tail wag so constantly, and how Mr. Rogers 
 had replied, " Just what makes your tongue wag — 
 weakness ! " 
 
 Hal listened respectfully — all the more so that he felt 
 that the master of the house was making an effort to do 
 him honour. He was conscious, too, that a little foot was 
 seeking his under the table, whereupon as in duty bound 
 he responded by touching that of Bridget Cromwell, 
 who sat at his right, as gently as a Hog Lane riding boot, 
 spurred and double-soled, would permit. But he started 
 and apologised when he found a stare of cold displeasure 
 turned upon him. Yet he could have sworn — yes, there 
 it was again. Could it be — yes, it must be — that monkey 
 Bess paying court to him from the other side of the table ? 
 Bess was only sixteen, but such is the nature of man, that 
 Hal Ludlow began to discover in her a ripeness and 
 perfection of which he had not dreamed five minutes 
 before. Her eyes were merry and her profile certainly 
 better cut than Bridget's. Besides, she had such mischief 
 and spirits in her glance that — that — Hal was a young 
 man and exceedingly susceptible. He did not fall in 
 love, but he resolved to continue and even to pursue the 
 acquaintance of Mistress Elizabeth Cromwell. 
 
 There was also a certain dangerous joy in playing with 
 such subterranean fire under the eye and within sound 
 of the voice of the Terror of England. Yet they were 
 grave and sober, these young people. Bridget gave her 
 severest shoulder to the venturesome Hal, and Bess 
 listened as if in a reverie of admiration to her father's 
 words. Hal's ears indeed burned, but then he was only 
 a man, and small deceits sat not gracefully upon him. 
 But the maids, conscious of all that was going forward 
 unseen, interpreting each jingle of the spurs as the un- 
 fortunate moved uneasily, talked soft and mannerly and 
 behaved meekly, so that they were a cause of wonder to
 
 52 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 the young man, into whose vitals shame ate like a ravag- 
 ing worm and indeed quite spoilt his supper. The talk 
 falling upon creeds, and the taking of tests and covenants, 
 especially the Scots one to which Colonel Cromwell was 
 bitterly opposed, Hal ventured to say that the wise folk 
 from the north would do well to keep to their original 
 creed. 
 
 "And what may that be, Master Theologue?" cried 
 Cromwell, scenting a discussion in a quarter where he 
 least expected one. Whereupon Hal repeated the line 
 he had heard from the singing of Ewan Gordon of the 
 Hog Lane Troop: 
 
 "// thou woulds't come the better speed 
 Gang no farther than this creed — 
 ' Say well and do no ill ' 
 Shall keep thy soul in safety still." 
 
 Cromwell shook his head at Hal with a certain contempt 
 not unmixed with paternal indulgence. 
 
 " Hal, Hal, if you only knew what you were talking 
 about I would confer seriously with you. But being of 
 another age, I judge that you will grow wiser as the years 
 mount about you. Only remember that creeds and 
 conduct are not as easy as * Tick-tack-toe, Round I go.' 
 You are beginning with the fruit without growing the 
 tree, without bud or flower, without pruning and digging. 
 But I speak Greek to you young people, from whom all 
 that a wise man can expect on the hither side of thirty 
 is a reasonable sagacity and a habit of prompt and dutiful 
 obedience. Bess, fetch the Books. Sir, you will abide 
 and worship with us? " 
 
 Colonel Cromwell sat by the window in a high chair, a 
 table before him, and the light of the west shining softly 
 in through the golden haze of farinaceous motes which 
 filled the great Tithe Barn Yards. Bess, with the ribbon 
 of one dainty slipper missing, tripped demurely and un- 
 consciously up and deposited upon the desk a quarto
 
 "SLEEP WELL, CAPTAIN LUDLOW!" 53 
 
 volume bound in massive silver, double-clasped and 
 cornered with the same metal. Then she returned for 
 the Psalm Book, which was of the thin flat pulpit type, 
 but almost equally weighty with silver plating. 
 
 The head of the family gave out a psalm to be 
 sung, which he read four lines at a time, in a soldierly 
 voice such as he used when exhorting the Slepe Troop. 
 
 It was good at close of day to sing in the safe shelter 
 of that much threatened house — a song of eventide and 
 consolation. 
 
 " The angel of the Lord encamps, 
 
 And round encompasseth 
 All these about that do Him fear 
 And then deliver eth " 
 
 So line by line and precept by precept that clear firm 
 voice enunciated the promises, as it were laying down the 
 lines of circumvallation about an impregnable fortress, 
 till he concluded with the verse in which all joined 
 joyously as being specially applicable to their present 
 situation : 
 
 " The troubles that aMict the just 
 In number many be, 
 And yet at last out of them all. 
 The Lord doth set him free." 
 
 " The Lord give ear to the song of His servants ! " 
 concluded the family high priest, and opening the great 
 silver armorialed quarto he read *' in his ordinary " — 
 that is to say, in his steady progress through the Scrip- 
 ture, a stormy battle chapter of the Wars of David, 
 which made his voice shake the roof, and the orderlies, 
 stable hands, and servant maids clustering at the end of 
 the long room, furtively draw together as for protec- 
 tion against some coming catastrophe. 
 
 Then quite suddenly he closed the book, and turning 
 his chair towards the window he prayed kneeling into
 
 54. HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 the golden twilight where the sun had gone down. The 
 family and dependents were swiftly upon their knees. 
 Hal Ludlow, a little disconcerted by the unexpected 
 movement, followed their example. The whole little 
 assembly was soon under the spell of the speaker, who, 
 as it were, spoke with his God face to face — all, that is, 
 except Bess Cromwell, who with eyes that roamed every- 
 where and sought out everything spied a wisp of silk 
 upon Hal's right spur. In a moment she had glanced at 
 her own slippers, discovered her loss, recovered the bow- 
 knot, and with a cunning hitch of a pin drawn from her 
 neck ruffles fastened it again in place. And so to her 
 devotions as diligently as any. 
 
 "And to think," she reflected, " that some are so 
 wicked as to deny the existence of a kind Providence. 
 If Hal had not been so slow and stupid, I should cer- 
 tainly have been found out ! " 
 
 " And now, lad," said the Colonel when Dame Crom- 
 well and her mother had kissed him on both cheeks, and 
 the girls had demurely presented their hands in token 
 of farewell, " let us see what is in these papers." But 
 Hal wanted to proceed in his own way. 
 
 " Sir," he said, " your pardon and patience a moment. 
 I have done something — as you asked me — no great 
 thing, but something. Your soldiership can tell better 
 than I what it is worth. But the Anabaptists fought 
 well, and are willing to come in with us, arming and 
 mounting themselves as is your rule. I asked them 
 before ever I let them out of the saddle, and little Zered 
 Tuby backed me with all his might 
 
 " Why was he so keen — I have heard of him as a 
 bitter plant ? " queried Cromwell, who took nothing on 
 trust. 
 
 " A bitter plant, but satisfactory — and to me indis- 
 pensable," said Hal. " He has tasted fighting and is
 
 « SLEEP WELL, CAPTAIN LUDLOW ! " 55 
 
 eager for more. He hates the King's folks as the enemies 
 of the Cause " 
 
 " And of the Lord," said Cromwell. 
 
 " That is what he said," Hal admitted. " Also I judge 
 that he is not sorry to play a trick upon Preacher Else- 
 good, who has set up to be a chief man in Hog 
 Lane. He wants to keep them all out of the war, hard 
 at it hammering lapstones and twitching waxed 
 threads." 
 
 " Aye," said the Colonel grimly, " I know Master 
 Zachary Elsegood. He has this much of Judas about 
 him that he carries the bag and is anxious that it should 
 be filled with Parliamentary gold. Have a care, Hal, 
 that he does not cheat you. He is a cunning dog, your 
 Zachary. He took some simple scrupulous souls out of 
 our second troop by reproaching them with companying 
 with infant baptisers." 
 
 " I think, sir, that Zered will keep them right. They 
 draw mightily to him, and dislike Zachary, who has kept 
 them working for 'prentice wage years longer than the 
 law allows. Oh, the young men will stick to it right 
 enough. Here are the names and articles of associa- 
 tion." 
 
 He passed the papers over, which Cromwell took and 
 smoothed down under the light of the tall wax candles. 
 He smiled well pleased as he counted the roll. " A full 
 troop," he said, " and one of the best, if I know aught of 
 Hog Lane. Ah, but what's this? Choosing their offi- 
 cers! For Captain, Henry Ludlow? Who is he, this 
 Captain Henry Ludlow? This that you bring me is a 
 clear infringement of my prerogatives. Young man, I 
 wonder that you dare?" 
 
 " It is not my daring, sir," said Hal, trying hard to 
 keep the triumphant accent out of his voice. " I shall be 
 very content to be once more what you promised me, a 
 trooper in the Slepe Troop. But these fellows are wild 
 as marsh curlews. If you do not accept their officers
 
 56 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 and their rules, I fear we may have to do without the 
 troop. And, Colonel, you should have seen them charge 
 — if only they had known when to pull up." 
 
 " The Hog Lane Ruperts ! Not pull up, you say ? 
 That I take it upon myself to teach them. Well, I sup- 
 pose I can do no better than accept your title — though 
 Sam Squire, my adjutant, has as good as the promise of 
 the next troop." 
 
 " You let Charlie Montague have the troop he raised," 
 pleaded Hal, " and his men never proved themselves as 
 my Hog Laners did last night at Gedney Hill." 
 
 " I would that I had been there, sirrah, though I dare- 
 say I could have done no better. But let us look at their 
 articles — umm-umm — ' will fight under Colonel Cromwell 
 and no other.' That will never do. Must change that. 
 Colonel Cromwell may be under the sod any day. You 
 must see that changed, Hal." 
 
 " They mean what you mean, sir," the young man 
 explained, " only that they will not be sent to my Lord 
 Essex or " 
 
 " I see — name no names, Hal. I think we can arrange 
 the matter. ' They desire to incorporate themselves 
 with Colonel Cromwell's brigade of horse which is he 
 
 now raising for the Eastern Counties' Association ' 
 
 How will that do ? " 
 
 " I doubt if they would understand what the words 
 mean," Hal Ludlow smiled in answer to the twinkle in 
 his chief's eye. 
 
 " No matter, no matter," said the Colonel, " but we 
 shall translate a little for the benefit of that excellent man, 
 your father, and the War Commission at Westminster, 
 who would not like to have Colonel Cromwell shoved 
 upon them willy-nilly by a Hog Lane armed to the 
 teeth. *Tis only a difference of expression — as you say. 
 We both mean the same. And the day may come when 
 Hog Lane may be most useful — more than ninety and 
 nine just men who never thought of choosing officeps and
 
 « SLEEP WELL, CAPTAIN LUDLOW ! " 57 
 
 imposing rules on the Two Houses! Well, I may as 
 well write you and Zered a couple of acting commissions 
 till I can get the official ones down from Westminster. 
 Good night to you — you go back to your troop, I sup- 
 pose. Sleep well, Captain Ludlow ! "
 
 VI 
 
 THE ISLE JATTE 
 
 " li^ ^Y heart, my heart, my heart's dear heart — eat 
 I Y £ it then and welcome. I stole it for thee 1 " 
 
 The words, spoken in the most caressing 
 tones possible to womankind, came from somewhere un- 
 seen. Hal Ludlow had paused before the loose-box in 
 which he had stabled Hereward, who was never so happy 
 as when he had enough bedding to roll upon at his 
 pleasure. It might not be very good for his coat, but it 
 was excellent for his temper and spirits. Hal loved his 
 beast and gave him this indulgence as often as he could. 
 It was dusk in the long stable of his father's official resi- 
 dence, and Hereward's loose-box was quite at the end. 
 Coming in out of the temporary guard-room, Captain 
 Ludlow had picked up a lantern and made his way to give 
 a good-night handful of oats and a caress to his friend. 
 
 He paused at the sound of the voice. Surely no son 
 of Hog Lane had ever been made love to in such fashion. 
 " My heart's dear heart " — that sounded like a song such 
 as he had often heard sung when he was a collegian at 
 Trinity. 
 
 He lifted his lantern and let the light fall upon the 
 manger which had been fitted into a niche in the wall. 
 Upon the edge of it perched the gipsy girl who had saved 
 his life on the slope of Gedney Hill. She had Hereward's 
 head against her breast and with both palms hollowed 
 into a cup, she was teaching him to eat from them. The 
 horse whinnied with pleasure, and even as Hal ap- 
 proached threw up his head and laid a soft nose against 
 
 58
 
 THE ISLE JATTE 69 
 
 the girl's cheek. " Daintily now or you will push me off 
 my perch ! " she remonstrated. 
 
 "What is this, you little witch?" Hal exclaimed. 
 " Hereward allows no one in his stall. He permits no 
 one to feed him but myself. What brings you here, you 
 imp — answer me? " For Hal was suffering from a sense 
 of wrong — jealousy of the girl who had taken Here- 
 ward's love — horse jealousy, more bitter with some men 
 than the treachery of a sweetheart. But the fairy-like 
 figure surprised and conquered him. The clothing was 
 scant but scrupulously neat. The dress wrapped the 
 young limbs about as the green sheath swathes the 
 poppy-bud. Hal was conscious of a bare brown neck, 
 and of a little bird-like head poised upon it. Swiftly 
 the single glance which had betrayed her consciousness 
 of his presence traversed him from head to foot. He 
 could see the pupils of the great dark eyes narrow and 
 almost vanish under the glare of the light. 
 
 " Hereward and I have made friends," said the perched 
 imp ; " you see, noble captain, that I saved his life as well 
 as his master's, and he has the grace to be grateful." 
 
 " Who are you ? " demanded Hal, more and more 
 astonished, for the accent and speech were not of the 
 country. 
 
 " Nay," said the girl, " if you tell me that, I shall be 
 grateful indeed! Some say I followed the gipsies of 
 my own free will. But more like I was knocked on the 
 head and tossed into a donkey pannier. Now I am of 
 your troop and my name is on you rolls." 
 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 " Not impossible, I put it there myself when old man 
 Zered was not looking — Nena la Fain — a good name too, 
 as it sounds — for I never had any chance, and I have 
 always been hungry." 
 
 A vague idea shaped itself in Hal's mind that his eye 
 had passed over some such name — registered upon the 
 strange muster-roll of the Hog Lane Saints. What would
 
 60 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Colonel Cromwell say? He would certainly allow no 
 fooling, and he would require full explanations. Captain 
 Hal for the first time in his life wished that his past had 
 been clear of " petticoating " — for by that name the 
 Puritans of the East designated the give-and-take com- 
 merce of innocent young people. It was discouraged as 
 leading to the fatal gulf of " chambering and wanton- 
 ness," which in turn led directly to expulsion and the 
 blackness of darkness. 
 
 The chief of the Hog Laners felt the responsibility of 
 his position, but after all the girl had saved his life. If 
 he were to tell the Colonel, Zered could of course bear 
 him out. But he wished that he had had a more sober 
 reputation. Yet it was not his fault that the rustle of 
 silk skirts and the flutter of bosom lawn disturbed his 
 nerves. 
 
 First of all he must dispose of Neiia for the night. 
 His father and he were alone in the Commissioner's 
 house. He had no relatives in Ely to whom he could 
 commit this charge. He frowned thoughtfully, and the 
 girl's eyes followed him everywhere, striving to read his 
 purpose. 
 
 " I will not go," she declared suddenly, as if in answer 
 to an unspoken resolution. " I can provide for myself. 
 See ! " And with quick surprising agility she seized the 
 edge of the hay-shoot which communicated with the 
 forage loft, swung herself clear, and was gone. 
 
 He had a vision of shapely brown ankles swinging an 
 instant in space and then lifted out of sight into the dark 
 cavern overhead. He went round by the outside stairs 
 and, opening the doors through which the great pulleys 
 swung the bales of hay for Cromwell's troop horses, he 
 peered in. Nothing stirred but the rats. He saw endless 
 bales and stacks of fodder fading into darkness, huge 
 cross-beams shadowy overhead and the night dimly 
 shining in, star-sown, through ranges of high-set tri- 
 angular " wickets."
 
 THE ISLE JATTE 61 
 
 But no light-heeled maid bewitching to horses and 
 troublesome to new-made captains of horse by the grace 
 of God and OHver Cromwell. Nothing remained there- 
 fore but to go decently to bed, which he did on a pallet 
 flanked by his lieutenant, and at twenty paces off all 
 along the opposite wall, from the noses of Hog Lane 
 resounded the serene trumpetings of victorious Ironsides. 
 
 How Neha la Fain passed the night was a secret not 
 then revealed to Hal, but about twelve of the clock a 
 slim figure with a bundle of clothes piled upon its head 
 like a dusky turban dropped into the river a couple of 
 miles below the city, where the marsh willows are densest 
 and the salt tussocks grow highest. Hardly a splash — 
 not a ripple of wake — no fish could have been more 
 silent than Nefia, little brown Nefia the outcast, who 
 carried so old and wise head on such young and pretty 
 shoulders. 
 
 She was exceedingly able to take care of herself. Her 
 twenty years had taught her much varied wisdom. The 
 Ronanichels cherish their womenfolk, and though Nefia 
 was none of their blood, it was expected that one day 
 she would marry the chief. So that, though one man 
 or two had got a knife in his ribs on account of ill-advised 
 approaches, Nefia la Fain flitted still fancy free. She 
 had known no lord. She had never even had a sweet- 
 heart — never lingered under the pines with a lover when 
 the elder women were banking up to-morrow's fire at 
 the base of a great trunk of cedar or pearly beech. 
 
 Now she hastily put on her dress and shoes, sitting 
 on a boss of sea-grass well above the tide-mark, and then 
 pushed forward like one who knows the way, to the 
 extreme end of the island on which she stood. It was 
 what among the northern fens was called a wooded isle, 
 though the timber was not of the height and magnifi- 
 cence which makes notable Isle O'sea opposite Maldon. 
 
 The wind of the night soon dried the brackish river- 
 water upon her lithe body and only a pleasant surface
 
 62 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES . 
 
 coolness remained upon her skin. She was now far away 
 from all except the fen sounds, and the marshes, though 
 only a few know it, are very busy and populous during 
 the night. On little patches of the mere, ducks placidly 
 swam or lay torpid under the bank, with heads tucked 
 comfortably away under their wings. The thunder of 
 the bittern came from the central marshes, braying like 
 a brazen drum. This waked to emulation a bull on the 
 newly reclaimed polders (called the Bouchier meadows 
 from the family of good Dame Cromwell, with whose 
 dower they had been drained). Nefia hardly listened to 
 all this. Her ear took in the sounds certainly. Her 
 brain registered and interpreted them, but she was too 
 intent on going forward to stop because Baisent, the 
 Cromwell bull, bellowed on the Bouchier polder, or Stone- 
 hurst rooster marked midnight with a distant trumpet- 
 call as argentine as the ripple of her own laughter. 
 
 On she went, ducking under scrub and gliding through 
 tangled brush swift and noiselessly as a squirrel. Pres- 
 ently there came a deeper darkness, the outline of a ridge 
 pole, the vague black silhouette of a mud-built chimney, a 
 closed door, and Nefia was at home. 
 
 It was a fowler's hut, such as exist by hundreds in the 
 fens, light in structure but standing well up to the 
 storms under its shade of alder and willow. Set on a 
 platform of peat, peat-banked about, the walls wattle- 
 caulked with stiff Lincolnshire clay, and a low-built brick 
 chimney at one end, such was the refuge of Nefia la Fain 
 and at rare intervals the home of Jack Wassailer, which 
 is to say Oiseleur, one of the first arrivals of that fine 
 flight of French Huguenots escaping from Mazarin and 
 Anne of Austria. He rarely rem.ained long in one place 
 and Nefia had small expectation of finding him within 
 when she clambered up the rude steps to the door. But 
 the Wassailer was there before her and called out in 
 French, " A moment, petite mie, and I shall have a light 
 for thee."
 
 THE ISLE JATTE 63 
 
 She heard the flint of the steel and divined the careful 
 nursing of the spark among the tinder. Then after the 
 faint hiss of the match cord, a candle was lighted, and to 
 her eyes, accustomed to the spaces of the wide cool dark, 
 the world seemed to rush together, and the night to bank 
 itself solid and ebon about that dazzling illumination. 
 The hut seemed bursting with it. It kindled in the 
 chimney and threw a glare against the skies. Every 
 chink and crevice vomited fire and the very glade itself 
 was inundated with light. The door was outlined with 
 brightness as though framed in fire, and overhead the 
 hut itself raised a humped and hooded back towards the 
 east winds. The door was thrown open, the fly net raised, 
 and the white beard of Jacques the Wassailer brushed 
 with a wispy paternal benediction the cheek of the girl. 
 " Why did you not shout for me, to come and ferry you 
 over?" said the old man, sticking his candle on a 
 copiously bedripped perch fixed in the side of the hut 
 above the table. "Well, child, what of new? Have 
 you found him ? " 
 
 Nefia la Fain was silent a moment, and then lifting her 
 eyes frankly to those of the old man, she answered with- 
 out flushing, " I have found him, but he is not for me ! " 
 
 "For whom then?" The old Huguenot turned an 
 anxious eye upon the girl. 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders, " Oh, I do not know — 
 some great lady. He is a Captain of horse under Colonel 
 Cromwell, and his father lives in the biggest house in 
 Ely." 
 
 "His name?" 
 
 " Captain Hal Ludlow — I saved his life. There was a 
 fight at Gedney out French Drove way. His men sent 
 the Candishers flying, but he would have been killed 
 while capturing the leader if I had not shot the man 
 down." 
 
 " And so," interjected the old man grimly, " he showed 
 his English gratitude by making love to you ! "
 
 64 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " No — no — no — I tell you." Neiia beat on the table 
 with the palm of her small hand. " He did not know. 
 He thought I was a child. I did but ride behind him and 
 slid off before we got to the town." 
 
 The old exile took his beard in his left hand and 
 crushed it against his teeth, biting it in a manner usual 
 with him in meditation. 
 
 He considered the thing unlikely, and with the racial 
 suspicion of a Frenchman where women are concerned, 
 quite disbelieved in the disinterestedness of the Captain 
 of the Hog Lane Troop. 
 
 " He knows well enough," he muttered, " the man 
 does not live who would not know if he found favour in 
 your eyes. I can see him — a Jack-a-dandy ape for all 
 his Puritan blood. He cocked his feather at you, I 
 warrant — ah, if he plays you false, it will not be a good 
 day for him when I find my brave gentleman at the 
 end of my old fowling-piece — slugs for such cattle, 
 the slugs with which I killed the wild boar in Netly 
 Thickets ! " 
 
 Neiia la Fain caught him eagerly by the arm. " You 
 wrong him — and you wrong me," she said. " I did not 
 know that I loved him till I fled to you. He came on me 
 feeding his horse and I was frightened and escaped. 
 No, he did not fright me. He was gentle and kind — only 
 he wanted to place me with some of his own people in a 
 built house in the town. I am not made for such — street 
 and company and houses opposite ! " 
 
 " But the night— the night of the battle ? " the old 
 man continued still suspiciously. 
 
 " It was so dark he never saw me ! I tell you, Jacques, 
 he is in no ways to blame." 
 
 The old Frenchman watched the small brown hands 
 playing nervously with the webbing of a snare which she 
 had picked from a shelf. 
 
 " You plead for him almost too well," he said grimly, 
 " and for the rest we shall see. That the lad is well-born
 
 THE ISLE JATTE 65 
 
 and of a brave spirit I doubt not, but — the young men 
 of this land are of a wandering mind, and his Captaincy 
 under Cromwell will help him nothing when he comes 
 under the spell of your eyes." 
 
 " But he will not — even if that were true," cried the 
 girl. " Wassailer, listen — I will stay with you and go no 
 more with the tribe. You will teach me your business 
 and we shall catch birds together. I shall cook for you 
 and keep the house, wash and mend your clothes, 
 make and repair your nets and snares — be your little 
 daughter." 
 
 The Huguenot's eyes glowed. 
 
 "li only you would — or could! But I fear me you 
 have already drunk the poison. Yet stay with me while 
 you can. You shall be welcome at Isle Jatte. Ours is a 
 good trade, petite. It nourishes well its man. And with 
 this little piece of tin (he took a bird-call from his 
 pocket) I will teach you to bring down the plover from 
 the sky so that he will put his head into the noose when- 
 ever you want him. He will leave the fat wireworms 
 on which he is busy in Farmer Giles's field to come to 
 you. Besides, fowling does not bow a man prematurely 
 like the labour of the plough and scythe. See the poor 
 slaves, stretched along their plough-handles under the 
 chill ruflle of the winter wind and the bite of an easterly 
 spring. We have only to set our traps cunningly, to 
 shoot straight, and to whistle for the birds," 
 
 The morning began to break upon Isle Jatte and 
 Grande Isle. The Huguenot used the old names as if 
 he still whistled down the larks in the meadows beneath 
 St. Andre and on the islands of the Etang de Berre. 
 Jacques must make haste. The golden plover, wariest 
 and most astute of birds, would be busy at the lower 
 corner of Isle Jatte when the tide was going out. His 
 capture was no easy task, for these plovers post sentinels 
 while the flocks feed. So Jacques ordered Nena to lie 
 down on the bed and sleep till he should return. He
 
 66 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 would go in his skiff and be back before she was awake. 
 Then he shouldered his snares and game bag, closed the 
 door quietly and was gone. The oars had hardly plashed 
 in the water before Nena was asleep. The silence of the 
 morning sun brooded upon Fenland. The green-painted 
 shutters were almost closed. Only a single ray of sun- 
 light filtered through the narrow slit, while outside the 
 bees boomed in the clover heads, the mallow and camo- 
 mile, the mint and lavender with which the old epicure 
 of Basse Provence had surrounded his dwelling in the 
 heart of the marshes. Meanwhile Jack the Wassailer 
 pulled steadily, all the while evolving a great plan. He 
 must keep the maid with him or she would certainly 
 wind herself a skein which she would find it impossible 
 to disentangle. 
 
 He had it. He, old Jacques Wassailer, could not trust 
 this girl in the matter of young blood and twenty years. 
 But he could trust her with money. She would sell his 
 produce for him in Ely and Lincoln, or at the manors 
 and villages of the west where fen produce was at a 
 premium. 
 
 Neiia la Fain had the habit of towns. She was expert 
 in all the commerce of the bourgeoisie. She could speak 
 English more glibly than any native, and submerge in 
 charlatan's patter and gipsy contempt any rash amateur 
 who tried to bandy wit with her. 
 
 The Wassailer had the solitary man's horror of crowds. 
 English he spoke ill or not at all, and when he went to 
 market he had often been obliged to stand silently by his 
 basket till some stout burgess, attracted by the quality 
 of the birds and intent on his Sunday's dinner, approached 
 and offered him a price ridiculously low, merely because 
 the seller was an old refugee in a ragged coat. Then 
 Jacques Wassailer would hold up his fingers, two or three 
 to indicate the price, but he could not chaffer or bargain 
 in rough English. Ah, if only he had had them at 
 Martigues or on the market square of Marseilles. Then
 
 THE ISLE JATTE 67 
 
 would he speak with them in the gate. But Nefia, she 
 would sell for him and bring him the money faithfully. 
 He would only send her where the soldiers of Colonel 
 Cromwell were stationed. Cavalier towns were no places 
 for pretty maids. And so she would see many faces and 
 soon forget Captain Hal Ludlow, a young soldier who 
 had very likely never remarked her at all, and who at 
 any rate would have his hands full with the inroads of 
 the King's men. For even this solitary of the Fens knew 
 that in the summer of 1643 the Puritans were hard put 
 to it in every corner of the land. 
 
 Thus he meditated as he lay behind his covert of green 
 branches, while the golden plovers stooped boldly above, 
 or alighting walked without mistrust into his carefully 
 arranged nets. 
 
 He saw a hearth fire and a home bright with love and 
 youth. He could not expect to hold her always— he, 
 an old man, and of no blood kin, but still — just long 
 enough to settle that tricksome heat of the blood which 
 she called her love for Captain Hal of the Ironsides. He 
 was under no great apprehension of immediate evil. If 
 Hal had been a young sprig of the nobility, a page of the 
 King's household riding out from Oxford — ah, then, he 
 would have carried the girl off to Holland and that 
 instantly. But a Ludlow, an Ironside, and the captain 
 of the first Anabaptist troop — he felt that Nefia was as 
 safe as if she were under the protection of Oliver him- 
 self. The Fens knew Oliver. His fame had not yet been 
 blown abroad over England, but bide a little. The day 
 of Long Marston was near at hand.
 
 VII 
 HAL LEADS A " FORLORN " 
 
 THE dog days of that year were heavy and anxious 
 for the Padiament men. Everywhere except in 
 Cromwell's country they had been defeated. Even 
 there, pressed from the north by Newcastle's foraying 
 parties and threatened on the south by the coalition of 
 Norfolk squires and a dashing raid from the defenders 
 of Basing House and Amersham, Cromwell needed all 
 his men and all his skill to defend his own borders. 
 
 So far he had succeeded, but one morning after a 
 courier had ridden in, he called Hal Ludlow to him in 
 his little office in the Tithe Building, a mere construction 
 of timber and glass window opening cheerfully out upon 
 the balance and weigh-beam. Yet Colonel Cromwell 
 loved it because of the severe silence of the empty yard, 
 and the stark cleanliness of the deal boards which sur- 
 rounded him. His helmet and sword belt hung on pegs 
 behind his chair, a cupboard of papers neatly ranged 
 was at his elbow, and in this place he dealt man to man 
 with his officers and army furnishers, 
 
 " Hast ever been in Essex, lad ? " the commander 
 inquired while Hal stood saluting on the threshold. Like 
 most men, even those who had served Cromwell longest 
 and knew him best, he never entered the " presence " 
 without a long fortifying intake of the breath. Every 
 man — even Earls like Manchester and Essex (so 
 they said) — breathed freer after the East Country 
 Colonel had spoken and they knew what he expected of 
 them. 
 
 " I know part of Essex — from Chelmsford to the sea — 
 
 68
 
 HAL LEADS A " FORLORN " 69 
 
 my father has a property near Danbury which brings 
 him little more than the rabbits I shoot." 
 
 " Then you are the man for me," said Cromwell, 
 cutting him short, " you know that Danbury Towers 
 holds out for the King? " 
 
 " Oh, Lady Molly," the young man smiled, " but 
 that is only a girl's petulance. The Essex men could 
 have taken her defences in an hour if they had wished, 
 but for her father's sake " 
 
 "Well, what for her father's sake?" 
 
 " I have heard say, sir," stammered Hal, " that her 
 father being my Lord Woodham Walter and a good 
 Parliament man, they let her believe that her foolishness 
 was serious — hoisting the King's standard and so on ! " 
 
 " I tell you, Captain Ludlow, it is most serious." 
 
 " Not little Molly Woodham with whom I played at 
 catch-as-catch-can among the sand pits of Rodney 
 Dean?" 
 
 " I do not know about ' catch-as-catch-can,' but I do 
 know that your little Molly has flown the King's colours 
 like my bold Lady Derby, and holds Danbury Towers 
 with a full garrison against the Parliament. Now a 
 house on a hill is no great thing, but a hostile place of 
 arms on Danbury is a mighty serious thing. It serves 
 as a rallying point for all the raiding bands. It com- 
 mands the sea at Maldon Port and the London Road at 
 Chelmsford. More than that your Lady Molly is to re- 
 ceive and entertain a party pushing eastward from Ba- 
 sing, and yet another of the Brown Octobers hiving down 
 out of Norfolk where our Downham lads have been 
 making it somewhat hot for them in their manors and 
 pleasances. I half expected a break for Oxford one of 
 these days, though I never dreamed they would make it 
 by the South. But the way we rode furiously upon the 
 King's horse on Gainsborough highway must have dis- 
 couraged them from trying the straight route." 
 
 Now on Gainsborough day the Hog Laners had ridden
 
 TO HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 with the Slepe Troop and even Sam Squire had allowed 
 that, though still a little ragged on the flanks, they had 
 come out of the melee unashamed. 
 
 " I am going to send you forward as a ' forlorn,' " said 
 Cromwell, using his favourite word for an unsupported 
 reconnoitring party, " a ' forlorn ' to do what you can 
 without too great risk, and to bring me back the best 
 intelligence." 
 
 " You honour me, sir," said Hal, bowing low. 
 
 " I honour you not, but doing your duty may," re- 
 torted Cromwell sharply ; " you must humour your troop, 
 sir. You are too young to have that skill in hearts and 
 consciences which comes only with labour and experi- 
 ence." 
 
 " But I shall do my best, sir," said poor Hal. 
 
 " I doubt it not," quoth Cromwell, " but remember 
 also that your first business is to be obeyed in your troop. 
 We are good enough republicans, but the captain of a 
 ' forlorn ' must be a dictator. Take counsel with your 
 officers when you feel your need, but remember good 
 Mr. Stone's definition of a Congregational Church as a 
 * speaking aristocracy in the presence of a silent democ- 
 racy.' But I propound things that are out of your 
 knowledge, and must be for a score of years. Go thy 
 ways, Hal. Draw fifty pounds from my auditor Sam 
 Squire, use it carefully and account to me. Pay for 
 nothing that you can get as a free gift, but rob no man, 
 not even an enemy. Pay a price, but see to it that you 
 get a pennyworth for your penny." 
 
 " And by which road shall I advance ? " Hal asked. 
 
 The Colonel stretched out a hand and took up a strip 
 of paper on which a rude sketch had been traced with 
 distances and halting places marked in with red ink. 
 
 " There is your route map, but use it not slavishly. 
 The leader of a ' forlorn ' needs judgment. By Cam- 
 bridge and Braintree lies your way, but leave much in the 
 hands of the angels. I cannot foresee your obstacles, but
 
 HAL LEADS A " FORLORN " 71 
 
 have faith. Pray, and above all trust in God. Let me 
 not waste my words, and be sparing of your powder. 
 What fighting has to be done, is best despatched as 
 quickly as may be with the clean white metal." 
 
 So there was a great scattering, Bridget and Bess 
 Cromwell in the quiet garden of the Tithe House of Ely 
 regretted the absence of their best cavalier and most 
 faithful attendant. Hog Lane and its womenfolk 
 meditated in grim inward silence upon their lads riding 
 forth against the enemies of the Lord. Zachary Else- 
 good openly fulminated at what he called the shameful 
 breach of faith. Hog Lane had been enlisted to support 
 and to defend hearth and home, the Isle of Ely and the 
 Gedney fens, but here they were, the whole youth of 
 Hog Lane, sent off to another county, where they might 
 be called upon to company with London trainbands, yea, 
 Presbyterians and rank unbelievers. But Hog Lane had 
 emancipated itself. For Alured Promise, Sim Cross, and 
 Amos Pall stood about him and swore (as a good 
 Anabaptist may, by the lifting up of the right hand) to 
 make him arm and ride with them as a reinforcement 
 if they heard another word of ill talk from his mouth. 
 Which speedily sobered Master Zachary, nevertheless 
 he bode his time being sorely discontented that he should 
 have lost his old primacy of Hog Lane, by the incoming 
 of the new warlike notions and the departure of the 
 'prentices whom he had kept so long labouring for the 
 community. Ever since Judas carried the bag, the task 
 of cash-keeper for a religious commonwealth has been an 
 ungrateful one. The loss of the 'prentices, the cost of 
 their armament, and the decline in his weekly receipts 
 profoundly mortified the Hog Lane treasurer. Still more 
 did he feel his loss of influence since Captain Hal had 
 carried away the flower of their youth aided by the 
 example and eloquence of Zered Tuby. The hearts of 
 the women were with the young, and even the old men
 
 72 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 who congregated in Market Hall listened indeed to his 
 denunciations, but not with the old submission. Sim 
 Cross especially was a thorn in his side — a fine workman 
 and the fastest at putting sole and upper together in all 
 Hog Lane. Against the advice of Elsegood, he had been 
 made a senior companion at twenty-four, when he could 
 easily have been kept other six years a 'prentice, costing 
 nothing to the bag except the meat and drink he took 
 between his teeth. But now the thing was done, and 
 Sim Cross had a following among the younger men. He 
 even wanted to change the name of the society, prefer- 
 ring " Adult Baptisers," or simply " Baptists " to the 
 good old word Anabaptists which, with a history behind 
 it, had come from Germany more than a hundred years 
 ago. 
 
 On Isle Jatte the riding South of the Hog Lane Troop 
 was soon known. It was Nefia herself who brought the 
 news. Ely market day was Wednesday, and Nena found 
 the town talking of little else — talking as only a lonely 
 Cathedral city can talk — without knowledge, but with 
 abundant surmise and surprising assurance of state- 
 ment. 
 
 And in those days Ely was a marvellous place, the 
 headquarters of four regiments without counting the 
 black-skirted troop of parsons who held garrison about 
 the Cathedral close — the Isle Rooks, as they were called 
 by the red coats of the Eastern Association. Two or 
 three times an hour messengers rode in with a " haste- 
 post-haste," and a blast of their horn to call the guard. 
 They changed horses and rode on towards Lincoln and 
 the North, often so stiff of limb that they had to be 
 carried bodily from one beast to the other. Then a nod 
 of set countenance, a lift of the reins, a demi-volt, and lo, 
 the messenger of the Houses was speeding northward 
 to carry the bidding of the Parliament to other cities 
 also! Scores of market women in bright costumes 
 lighted up the streets and specially the open squares
 
 HAL LEADS A " FORLORN " 73' 
 
 where stood the booths. The fisher wives were noisy 
 in red and yellow caracos, broadly striped and shining 
 with scales. To them were added fen folk in sober butter 
 colour, with a scarf of blue tied about their heads, while 
 citizens gathered in little clusters to hear the London 
 gazettes read aloud, and merchant vendors of all movable 
 sorts pushed about their small hand-carts and cried their 
 wares to sell to the town's wives and especially to the 
 soldiers. 
 
 In the shadow of the Cathedral were to be seen some 
 dozen of figures sitting on stone seats, a chain and ball 
 attached to each right heel, draggled feathers in their 
 hats, ragged lace on their coats and long drooping 
 moustaches twisted upward, vainly seeking for the old 
 conquering Mazarin curl which would not come. These 
 were ofificers and gentlemen, prisoners of Colonel Crom- 
 well — some from Lincoln leaguer, but most from the 
 nameless fight fought in the evening light on the way 
 thither when the royal horsemen first met the New Model, 
 greatly to their astonishment. A few of the younger men 
 had recovered their air of contemptuous insolence, and 
 looked out on the mixed multitude, making remarks to 
 one another, uttered suf^ciently loud to reach the passers- 
 by. Yet it was noticeable that there were fewer of 
 these comments and they were less loudly spoken when 
 one of the dozen " Tawnies " — Cromwellian prison- 
 guards, strode past with musket in bandolier and hand 
 upon sword hilt. 
 
 Just then Ely had a very busy population, but that 
 was a new thing. It had come with the regiments and 
 would go with them. The residents of the old gabled 
 Dutch houses would remain, also the tradesfolk who 
 seemed to stand at their shop doors most of the day, 
 and to look upon life in a purely amateur spirit. 
 Strangest of all were the piles of oyster shells, raised on 
 a pedestal of cabbage stalks, carrot tails, potato parings, 
 to be seen and smelt all along the edge of the side walks.
 
 74f HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 For in this matter the- Cathedral city had kept its an- 
 cient repute, and even OHver could not quicken the 
 town carts to carry ofif the debris before the close of the 
 market. 
 
 Soldiers of all arms swarmed like ants, for there were 
 eight thousand of them in the city. Thus, though 
 regiments were always marching away, so great an 
 organiser was Cromwell that fresh details of recruits 
 were as constantly arriving. 
 
 White-capped Huguenots and Flemish pudding mak- 
 ers cried, " Cooked food ! " " Cooked food, good and 
 cheap ! " from a score of little wooden booths, and cer- 
 tainly to any hungry man the smell of frying fish and 
 potatoes crackling in boiling oil was most appetising. 
 Rings and chains of sausages hung in festoons a little 
 lower down, and from these the sellers cut any length 
 upon the exhibition of the necessary copper coins. Even 
 " a farden's worth " was not to be despised by the hungry 
 Cromwellian who found the army " ordinary " less satis- 
 fying than the plenty of his mother's kitchen, with its 
 cut loaf in the cupboard and the remains of yesterday's 
 mutton in the larder. 
 
 Nefia la Fain pushed her barrow along through the 
 crowd with the easy confidence of many fair grounds 
 and market gatherings, crying her specialty, " Plovers — 
 plovers from the fen, golden and grey, tenpence the pair. 
 Ducks — fat ducks — wild ducks, fresh from the broads, 
 sixpence and eightpence ! " 
 
 She was widely known in the army and the providers 
 of troops were already on the watch for her. Also at 
 sound of her voice the dames of good houses called for 
 their baskets to go out and salute " the little Frenchy 
 from Isle Jatte." 
 
 Neiia could sell when no one else had a chance. Even 
 Dame Cromwell had showed herself at the window and 
 beckoned to the " little Huguenot." For all Ely knew 
 the story of the lonely man of Isle Jatte, and the good
 
 HAL LEADS A " FORLORN " 75 
 
 keepers-at-home among their womenfolk remarked that 
 her birds and fish were both fresh and carefully chosen. 
 The wise Provencal never sent to market his whole 
 catch. He had now two mouths to feed, and he saw to 
 it that his guest was well nourished. She had come 
 to him with eyes so great and dark that they seemed to 
 overflow her white face, but now she had the round con- 
 tours and the brown cheeks of health. Her lips were red 
 and her eyes brilliant under the dark arch of her brows. 
 Her dress of black cloth had been chosen for her by the 
 Wassailer, but the breadth of red sash with which she 
 girt her waist expressed her own savage taste in colour. 
 
 Gainsborough had been retaken, and Colonel Cromwell 
 was back in Ely town. Nefia had seen him striding with 
 a frowning countenance in the direction of his office, 
 while she was standing on the steps answering My Lady's 
 questions. 
 
 " And— the other — did you see him ? " queried the 
 fowler of Isle Jatte. He spoke with a certain hesitation, 
 for on the subject of Captain Hal Ludlow the girl was 
 not always " commode " — or as it might be, amenable to 
 advice. 
 
 " Speak out his name, Pere Jacques," cried Nena 
 angrily, " I have nothing to be ashamed of. Captain 
 Henry Ludlow rode away south yesterday — some say 
 to London, where he will be sent to my Lord Fairfax's 
 army. At any rate Ely town will see him no more ! " 
 
 And suddenly she sank down on a low chair, dropped 
 her face between her hands, and wept silently with heav- 
 ing shoulders. She saw the warm summer atmosphere 
 which filled the Market Square, the reposeful creamy 
 blonde of her whitewash which has always distinguished 
 Ely from the other fen towns, and riding proudly, as she 
 loved to think of him (and as in her dreams she ever 
 saw him), at the head of his troop, his plumed helmet 
 glittering, breastplated and cuirassed, with Hereward
 
 76 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 flicking his ears and arching his flowing tail ! Ah, Nefia 
 la Fain thought there never was any sight like that in 
 all the world. And so, to do Master Hal Ludlow justice, 
 thought Bess Cromwell and honourable women not a 
 few of city of Ely and elsewhere, as the Hog Laners rode 
 southward towards the rallying place of the enemy.
 
 VIII 
 
 THE QUAKER OF BOREHAM BARNS 
 
 THE Lady Molly held Danbury Towers. The house 
 was an old one, with stout Plantagenet walls, em- 
 battled ramparts and a square Norman tower dat- 
 ing from the wars of Stephen. 
 
 The Colchester committee knew all about Lady Molly, 
 " She will weary of her play," said Sir Thomas Bar- 
 rington, Parliament member for the borough, to Sir 
 William Masham Mildmay, of Maldon, and Harbottle 
 Grimstone concurred. They had all sat at her father's 
 board and to them the idea of little Molly Woodham, 
 who used to sit sucking sweets while they talked of 
 Ship Money, being dangerous to the Parliament cause, 
 was frank cause for laughter. 
 
 Why, it was ridiculous even to think of. Lord Wood- 
 ham Walter was a good Fairfax man, a pillar of the 
 Association and much thought of by Colonel Cromwell 
 himself. 
 
 But these brave squires, Cookes, Calthorps, Talcots, 
 and Thoroughgoods, though excellent enough for raising 
 contributions, were no judges of military operations. The 
 importance of Danbury Hill escaped them. A sterile 
 place, fit only for rabbits and peesweeps, they thought it 
 — and as to the castle — why, a few solid shots from the 
 new battering ordnance would soon bring it about 
 Molly Woodham's pretty ears — which would be a pity, 
 seeing that some one of their sons might prevail on the 
 heiress to attach herself, first to himself and afterwards 
 to the honest Parliament cause. 
 
 77
 
 78 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 My Lord was too rich a man and too good a Fairfaxer 
 to be annoyed by any severities against his daughter. 
 
 Thus spoke and thought these good neighbours and 
 friends sitting safely in headquarters at Colchester, or 
 mooning along side by side in the cool shade of West- 
 minster Hall. But Colonel Cromwell was not at ease. 
 He knew Danbury Hill. It had been a camp of every 
 invading force since the Danes came up the Chelmer and 
 Blackwater in order to name it. It was within striking 
 distance of London. The sea was at hand, and French 
 cruisers could land or carry off without interference un- 
 less the Parliament could permanently occupy the coast 
 towns with force sufficient to prevent them. 
 
 " Do your duty well and seemly. Be not put off with 
 excuses. Be slow to accept country talk. See every- 
 thing at firsthand. Spare your men but be liberal of 
 yourself ! " — Such had been Colonel Cromwell's recom- 
 mendations, hastily scratched on the back of his orders 
 and passports. 
 
 Now in a country like Essex, where news spreads from 
 mouth to mouth like the lightning from the east to west, 
 Hal could not hope to conceal the arrival of a troop of 
 forty Cromwellian horse, all of the New Model, fresh 
 from Gainsborough fight and therefore of immense in- 
 terest to the East Saxons of every shade of opinion. 
 
 " Cromwell's ' Ameners ' won't nivver stand up to 
 Rupert's gentlemen. He will scatter them sure-Zy. For 
 now't but poor yeomen they be after all — a horse and 
 harness, a steel cap and a tawny coat — roll your eyes and 
 praise God through your nose — 'tis well enough for 
 riding the country, but when Rupert do come at them 
 furious, then the man with the fastest horse will praise 
 the Lord the loudest." 
 
 This was the verdict of the average man, for no Iron- 
 sides had as yet been raised in Essex — though later there 
 were plenty, with possibilities of good recruits even now, 
 for Essex has ever been (and so remains) a land of sec-
 
 THE QUAKER OF BOREHAM BARNS 79 
 
 taries. So mucli so that after he had passed Witham, 
 Zered Tuby found himself among friends. 
 
 " Wet or dry?" he queried of passers along the road, 
 when they were serious in their demeanour and reserved 
 in manner. 
 
 If they looked at the sky and began to calculate the 
 chances of fine weather or foul, Zered rode on and left 
 them to it. But if, as was the case about once in three 
 or four trials, the man clasped his hands together as high 
 as his heart, then thrust them down with a sudden 
 plunge, it needed not the *' Wet in the name of the 
 Lord " which issued from his lips to tell Hog Lane that 
 they had met with a brother Anabaptist. 
 
 " Buried with Him in baptism ! " Zered would respond, 
 promptly giving the countersign, and the next moment 
 they would be conferring together as to where they were 
 likely to be received as friends, where the troop could lie 
 up a day or two in barns and stables, with good Ana- 
 baptists or Quaker brethren to bring them needful 
 provend and succour at dead of night. 
 
 Yet it seemed a strange thing that even these men 
 were without any real tidings of what was going forward 
 at Danbury Towers. 
 
 " They be turning up a fine deal of earth on Coombe 
 Hill side — betwixt East Common and the Rodney — 
 looks like rabbiting, but 'tain't rabbiting neither — just 
 walls o' sand, most such as little 'uns make within the 
 tide-mark." 
 
 And by that single indication Hal Ludlow knew that 
 Molly Woodham was well advised, and that she had with 
 her some soldier of the wars of Gustavus, who knew that 
 war was not all dashes and " forlorns," in which hostile 
 parties met without intention and parted without anything 
 more decisive than a few heads broken, as many on one 
 side as the other. 
 
 The matter would certainly become more complicated 
 if the riding squires and their followers from Norfolk, the
 
 80 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Brown Octobers as they were called, had time to wait 
 for the raiders from Amersham and Oxford, who, 
 cutting all the lines of communication north of Lon- 
 don, would settle upon Danbury Hill as a camp of 
 refuge. 
 
 Hal thought much and deeply, turning the matter over 
 in his mind. He had not previously taken the mission 
 very seriously, and though his commander's manner had 
 impressed him at the time, yet that was because an 
 interview with his chief was always impressive. Little 
 Molly Woodham he could not take seriously. He began 
 now to think that he had been wrong. Colonel Cromwell 
 had had some surer intelligence than he had communi- 
 cated to him. It behoved him to see for himself, and he 
 set himself to devise ways and means. 
 
 The Hog Lane Troop were stopping under the roof 
 of a well-reputed Quaker merchant, who from a tanner 
 had developed into a seller of grain and fodder to the 
 armies. Silas Scale, a douce drab-skirted man with 
 a dry smile and an uncertain twinkle in his eye, was able 
 to lodge many troops in his lofts, nor (it must be ad- 
 mitted) had Hog Lane ever found the fleshpots of Egypt 
 daintier or more abundant. The plenty which surrounded 
 the Essex Quaker astonished those who had been sparsely 
 reared on the ordinary of the community as arranged by 
 Zachary Elsegood. 
 
 " Farmer Silas Seale," said Hal, to the master of the 
 bounds, " I do not wish to be burdensome to you, but 
 from the preparations in your yard I gather that to- 
 morrow you send out a considerable deal of fodder and 
 wheat to Chelmsford." 
 
 " Yea, friend," said the Quaker, stopping and looking 
 shrewdly upon him, ^' in pursuit of my humble avoca- 
 tions I take my produce to the town upon the day of 
 public market, trusting in the Lord that my honest goods 
 shall be found worthy of an honest price. For in this 
 world a man of conscience hath many claims upon hira.
 
 THE QUAKER OF BOREHAM BARNS 81 
 
 and sometimes the unexpected service cometh like a call 
 from the Lord." 
 
 Hal was a little nettled by the suave vagueness of the 
 address. 
 
 " If you mean that I and my troop are an expense to 
 you, be easy, Friend Silas. My father and Colonel 
 Cromwell will see your note of account, and if you have 
 any need of present moneys for your expenses, I have the 
 wherewithal to satisfy you." 
 
 The Quaker threw up his hands. " I pray thee do not 
 mention a word of expense. I am proud to serve the 
 cause. It is dear to my heart as the walls of Sion, as the 
 courts of Moriah. But to-day and every market day it is 
 laid upon me to walk into a den of thieves, or as Daniel 
 among ravening wild beasts. For upon Chelmsford 
 market green, twice within a month, the King's men 
 from Danbury have robbed honest men of their dues, 
 emptied wains and driven off cattle without so much as 
 a single silver sixpence to be paid — and think thyself 
 lucky if thy horsemen escape from such robbers. As for 
 me I go in fear and trembling, praying the Lord that He 
 will put it into the heart of the Lady Molly to ride down 
 along with them. For then not so much is taken, and a 
 price is given — not nearly enough, certainly, but still a 
 price." 
 
 " So you sell your stuff to the enemy and yet 
 you call yourself a good Parliament man ! — What 
 think you Colonel Cromwell would say to that if I told 
 him?" 
 
 The Quaker joined his hands devoutly and with more 
 than his usual meekness looked upon the ground. " He 
 could but say that I am an unfortunate and ill-used 
 vessel. I must either be robbed or take a price insuffi- 
 cient, which is yet better than nothing. Besides, across 
 the Blackwater I, have barns which serve Colchester and 
 the north, where come no raiding thieves, but honest 
 men and honest prices."
 
 82 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " Then why do you stay on here and run all this 
 risk?" 
 
 The Quaker drew his hands in a full circle about 
 him and his eyes took in the barns and byres, the com- 
 bings, the store-girnels, the stack-yards, and threshing- 
 floors. 
 
 " Because, dear friend, all this would go up in flames 
 to the skies if I were a week absent. I am spared be- 
 cause I have been of use to my Lord Woodham Walter. 
 The Lady Mary and her cavaliers will not let them 
 burn out her father's friend." 
 
 " Friend Silas," said Hal, breaking in upon him 
 abruptly, " I am coming with you to Chelmsford to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Nay, friend, nay," the master of Boreham Barns 
 threw up his hands, " I tell thee I am a man of peace, and 
 no war man at all. I cannot let a wheel stir if you take 
 your troop down. I speak, dear friend, in thine own 
 interest. The Danburyites would drive thee out with 
 bloody sconces, and there would be a great peace-break- 
 ing. Then the weight of it all would fall on me that I 
 harboured you here." 
 
 Hal stamped his foot with impatience. 
 
 " Hear you, Mr. Halting-Between-Two-Opinions, I 
 spoke not of riding with the troop, but, since I have some 
 small knack of disguises, of donning a working-smock, 
 binding my knees with straw, and taking in a wain — 
 which I warrant I can do as well as any man about the 
 Barns of Boreham ! " 
 
 The Quaker's agony showed in his face. He had not 
 been prepared for this move, and on the spur of the 
 moment had no objection ready. 
 
 " Then write a word of cover for me to my Lord 
 Cromwell." (He tried hard to say as usual " Friend 
 Cromwell," but that was a familiarity which even a 
 Quaker was not equal to.) 
 
 " I will write anything you like," cried the disgusted
 
 THE QUAKER OF BOREHAM BARNS 83 
 
 Hal, " you shall not be touched in an inch of your hide 
 nor a shilling of your purse ! " 
 
 " I thank thee, friend, I do sincerely thank thee. It 
 is all for the Lord, dear friend. Put it in the paper that 
 you went against my advice ! " 
 
 " There, sir," Hal thrust the paper at him with con- 
 tempt. " That will hold you guiltless if they hang me 
 high as Haman. You are a man whose charity begins at 
 home and ends there. But if you are disquieted on my 
 account, either by King or Parliament, that writing will 
 clear you of responsibility." 
 
 Still distrustful the Quaker read aloud Hal's testi- 
 monial, which with some few additions was as he himself 
 had dictated it. 
 
 " This is to certify that Silas Searle of Boreham, of the 
 sect called Quakers, an unworthy member, hath no de- 
 sire but to keep himself safe, to fill his pockets by honest 
 trade. He will hurt none lest he should hurt himself, 
 and he has done his best to dissuade me from reckless 
 adventures while under his roof. If aught happen to me, 
 I leave it to Colonel Cromwell and my father to indemnify 
 him fully for his risks and expenditures. 
 
 " H. Ludlow, 
 " Captain of the 8th troop, ist Reg. 
 " of Colonel Cromwell's Horse." 
 
 The Quaker's eyes glistened with pleasure as he read. 
 
 The contemptuous expressions in the early part seemed 
 to pass him over, and he hastened on to the business 
 guarantee. His face shone as if he had seen a vision. 
 He caught Hal in his arms and kissed him on both 
 cheeks. 
 
 " The spirit hath wrought by thee, young friend — 
 what an excellent — what an ecstatic phrase — ' to in- 
 demnify him for all his risks and expenditures.' " And
 
 84 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 he repeated with slow unction, rolling the words under 
 his tongue with a prolonged relish highly characteristic 
 of the man — " ' risks and expenditures,' quoth he — ' risks 
 and expenditures ' — what wise reason, how sensibly ex- 
 pressed! Oh, excellent young man, one day a son of 
 thunder, anon like rain upon the tender grass refreshing 
 the heart of man — ' risks and expenditures/ Oh, lovely 
 Oracle, sum of miracles — as I said before, most excellent 
 
 young man
 
 IX 
 
 RUPERT KEEPS TRYST 
 
 THAT night Zered Tuby bode late at work among 
 the men who were to go with the wains to 
 Chelmsford. 
 
 " Three of the five are Dippers, all sound on the 
 goose," he reported in the grey light of the morning 
 when he went in to waken his superior officer. " They 
 warrant also the fourth who, though no precisian, is a 
 sure man, so that he drinks not too much ale. His name 
 is Wiseman Phipps and his father a sea captain at Mal- 
 don. But the fifth would sell his mother for a dozen 
 shoestrings, his name Doe Royds. In him is no depend- 
 ence. A charge of lead is the only argument with such 
 as he ! " concluded the Lieutenant, shaking his shining 
 black curls, which though constantly cropped, persisted 
 in wriggling out round the edges of the smooth black 
 helmet which Zered wore on his head. 
 
 " As for this Doe Royds, I will shed no man's blood 
 save in fair fight or after an honest trial," retorted Hal 
 fiercely. " But I will tell you a better way. I will buy 
 that load from the Quaker and bid him send this Royds 
 with it to the Commissioners at Colchester, by Captain 
 Ludlow's orders. They will think it very kind of my 
 father and I must settle the bill as best I can." 
 
 So said, so done. The Quaker was delighted to send 
 the produce to Colchester, and started the suspicious 
 Royds off with it, with a list of stages and stoppages at 
 which to rest the horses. 
 
 " I could do much more with these gentlemen if I had 
 premises nearer Colchester Town," said the Quaker. 
 
 85
 
 86 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " But they have so much fodder among their own hands 
 that they can (if they will) supply themselves, and keep 
 a string of convoys moving back and forth along the road 
 to London as well." 
 
 And so donning a clean unrufifled shirt and a smart 
 waggoner's blouse, with a long whip, a pipe stuck in the 
 brim of his high-crowned hat and his hose tied with a 
 fresh plait of straw cunningly woven, Hal Ludlow, a 
 most handsome waggoner, stood ready for the road. 
 
 They went by Great Baddow, halting under the huge 
 black cedar of Lebanon in the rector's garden which 
 throws so deep a sea-green shadow on the white road. 
 It was slow going for the remaining two miles. Droves 
 of cattle plodded along in a sort of placid stream, the 
 moisture going up from them in clouds. It was the early 
 cool of the day and they were not yet fly-vexed. So they 
 went stilly enough, looking neither to the right nor to the 
 left, unless a barking dog appearing among the clouds of 
 dust set them horning one another. Sheep pattered with 
 a noise of hundreds of little feet, their backs even one 
 with the other and curiously piebald from the tar and 
 soap which had been rubbed into their wool. Here there 
 were more dogs, but these wise, and of tempered enthu- 
 siasms — one eye. on their master with his seven-foot 
 crook and the other watchful of any escape from the 
 steady pour of the herd along the King's highway. The 
 hay-wains of Silas Scale took an hour and a half to 
 cover the two miles to Chelmsford market on the out- 
 skirts of the town. They were still blocking up the nar- 
 row lane which leads off the High Street when they heard 
 a shouting behind them, " Out of the way, there ! Out of 
 the way ! " 
 
 The shepherds strove valiantly to get their droves 
 through the narrow gut. Dogs barked, and frightened 
 bands of woolly backs made dashes to right and left. 
 Bullocks disappeared down side streets with high flourish- 
 ing heels and brought up with a splash in the waters of
 
 RUPERT KEEPS TRYST 87 
 
 the Chelmer, and Waggoner Hal heard behind him the 
 well-known dip-a-clatter of a squadron of horse. 
 
 " Draw to the side, you fools," cried Tom the foreman 
 in a terrified voice from the rear. 
 
 " Why, what can they do ? " said Hal. " A horse troop 
 cannot override a string of loaded hay-wains." 
 
 " No, but they have their matches, and if we counter 
 them they will think nothing of setting our loads alight." 
 
 There was still noise and tumult in the rear, but by 
 a combined forward movement the waggoners managed 
 to get their M^ains clear of the narrow gorge of houses 
 before a file of gay riders came dashing by. They rode 
 sword in hand, but they had only been using the flat, 
 smiting and laughing, for their steel was undimmed, and 
 they carried the wide High Street with a gallant shout. 
 
 On a beautiful white mare rode a lady, so young indeed 
 as to be only a girl, but of a reckless beauty and bearing 
 which caressed the eye. 
 
 " The lady — the Lady Molly ! " came from every side. 
 And even in that douce town so near to the Parliament 
 headquarters, and with a commerce which depended upon 
 the goodwill of Westminster, Lady Molly, riding out 
 from her extemporised fortress of Danbury, gathered up 
 the popular applause. She was habited in the blue-and- 
 white, which were the colours of King Charles of Essex, 
 and were more studiously worn since the issue of the red 
 coats to the Parliament armies. A black hat with wide 
 brim round which curled a great white feather shaded 
 her face, which was oval and a little tanned with the sun. 
 But the blood ran red in her cheeks. Her lips were 
 geranium-red, and her eyes shone dark blue and master- 
 ful under the ripples and lovelocks of her fair hair. 
 
 Behind came riding two by two a score of gentlemen, 
 all young, bravely mounted, laughing and talking among 
 each other. Immediately behind the Lady Molly, and 
 separating her from the joyous rout, rode a man of fifty- 
 five, grizzle-haired and steel-capped like a Roundhead,
 
 88 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 a deep scar on his left cheek and his lips firmly com- 
 pressed. To this man alone the Lady Molly spoke, 
 sometimes carelessly over her shoulder, and sometimes 
 reining in her white mare to let him come up with her. 
 
 It seemed to Hal that as the girl's glance travelled along 
 the line of waggons and waggoners, each at the head of 
 his team, her eyes observed him with a certain surprise. 
 It was not possible that she could recognise him in his 
 teamster's disguise, nor yet remember the long gritty 
 days they used to spend in the Ashford gravel-pits, 
 returning at night, happy and guilty, with sand in their 
 eyes and mouths, crunching in their teeth, and coursing 
 raspingly between their skins and their most intimate 
 garments. For these sins of extreme youth they had 
 been warmly received, smacked, washed, and sent to bed. 
 
 Nevertheless though he breathed more freely, the 
 fourth waggoner of Quaker Scale's defile looked after 
 the girl with a curious anger. She had escaped him. 
 She was fighting for the tyrant. All that roistering train 
 were doubtless her slaves, or at least telling her so, daily 
 and hourly, and she repaying them with smiles and 
 encouragements. He remembered how once in Stanger's 
 spinny they had fallen out, and how, the spirit of chivalry 
 still dormant within him, he had beaten her, while she 
 scratched his face and threw handfuls of sand in his eyes. 
 She seemed in some way to belong to him and he felt 
 a strong desire to run in upon her, snatch her bridle-rein 
 and carry her home to her father again to be beaten and 
 locked up. 
 
 If Hal had been a little older, he would have laughed 
 at his own heat. What, after all, did he know of the 
 causes of quarrel? He wanted soldiership and adventure 
 and it was easiest to find them on the side he had chosen. 
 Sons in those times went with their fathers. As for the 
 daughters they did not count, except in the preparing 
 of lint and making of garments for the fighters. 
 
 Loud Tom Christopher, the Quaker's oversman, who
 
 RUPERT KEEPS TRYST 89 
 
 on difficult hills could shout Bible texts so that the very- 
 beasts took them for oaths, swept up the line. 
 
 " Get into the Market Square, I tell 'ee ! Lord help 
 us if their sutlers come upon us. They will cut us down 
 and drive off the horses. Get into motion, there ! Quick 
 with you, Tawny! Was it like this you spurred after 
 Gainsborough fight? If so, small wonder that we lost 
 the town." 
 
 The line of laden waggons ground and oscillated, 
 creaking and jolting across the deep-rutted irregular 
 pavements into the busy square in which the corn-market 
 was held. They were guided to the stance which had 
 been kept for them. It was the angle high to the left 
 above the water gate, a spot called to this day Quaker's 
 Corner, though the fame of Silas Scale of Boreham 
 Barns has long since died out in the sleepy town. 
 
 Here also were hawkers of all sorts, but they were 
 far less free to ply their trade than on the streets of Ely. 
 Waggoners cut at them with long whips for sliding under 
 the bellies of the horses on the way to a possible customer. 
 Here Hal had his hands full in guiding his pair of excited 
 horses clear of the waggons. These remained propped 
 up on the forked branches which had been swung behind 
 for the purpose of supporting the loads. But he was 
 soon at liberty. Loud Tom Christopher would attend to 
 his team. He must see all that there was to be seen. He 
 desired especially to catch another glimpse of the Lady 
 Molly. It would be a certain disaster if she recognised 
 him, yet, merely because the colour of her eyes puzzled 
 him — whether deep sea-green or sapphire-blue he could 
 not have been sure — he must needs seek her out. What 
 a fool he had been not to have made sure during those 
 long days when they played together. But then the 
 colour of eyes mattered far less to them than the fair 
 division of a handful of hazel nuts or a Woodham Walter 
 pippin equitably discussed in alternate bites. 
 
 But though he took his stand in the most commanding
 
 90 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 positions he could see nothing of the Danbury cavaliers. 
 They had merely passed through the town and ridden out 
 along the London road. They must have been very 
 certain of not being disturbed, or they would never have 
 come in such small numbers. Hal thought of what would 
 have happened if they had come face to face with his 
 dear Hog Laners. For a moment he wished himself back 
 at Boreham. It would be no small feat to cut them to 
 pieces before their raiding comrades from Oxford or 
 Norfolk could reinforce them. 
 
 " But then (thought Hal guiltily) what of Little Molly 
 Woodham ? " 
 
 It was taking an unfair advantage. How could any 
 man order a charge against an unequal number of horse 
 commanded by a woman — most of all, by the Lady 
 Molly? 
 
 Presently Hal was diverted from this thought by the 
 sight of the street sellers of leaflets and pamphlets. 
 Before the coming of the troop from Danbury fort, they 
 had been littering their booths with ballads and pas- 
 quinades against the King, A scurrilous ballad on the 
 Lady Molly (called "The Bantam Hen") was having 
 a great sale, and the vendors called " Churchyard Bum- 
 mers " from St. Paul's Churchyard, where they got their 
 supplies 'from the booksellers, were singing " The 
 Bantam Hen " so as to be heard halfway to Baddow. But 
 at the first shout of " In the King's name — make way ! " 
 the London tracts were stowed away, and the rascals 
 were out crying, " Our King by Right is King by Might." 
 
 " Down dogs. Parliament dogs, 
 Barringtons all lie down. 
 God save the King and bring him in, 
 So say the cap and gown." 
 
 These being contraband, were naturally more expen- 
 sive. The demand for them was limited in the Eastern 
 counties, and the fear of cart-tail scourgings, together 
 with the difficulty of procuring them from Oxford,
 
 RUPERT KEEPS TRYST 91 
 
 naturally raised the prices. But the young fellows in the 
 rear of the royalist array were free with their money. 
 They accepted the pasquinades by the handful, and tossed 
 their silver pieces on the paving stones with a gay " Pay 
 yourselves," whereupon a dozen rascals would be seen 
 grappling for the money in the dust. If one strong 
 enough to keep it managed to secure the prize, as was 
 mostly the case, he would hold it fleeringly over his head. 
 But here and there a man hard pressed would pop the 
 money into his mouth ready to be swallowed, and stand at 
 bay with bared teeth and shining knife in some angle of 
 the wall. If the threatened one could keep off the first 
 rush he was fairly safe. The mob was too busy, business 
 too brisk. They passed on to other matters lest they 
 should lose their market. 
 
 But as soon as the last King's hoof clattered through 
 City Port out upon the London Road, the royalist libels 
 were put away and the flying stationers were back again 
 crying, " The Revenge of God against Tyrants 1 " " We'll 
 crop their heads who cropped our ears ! " " Papists 
 Pilloried ! " " Zion's Complaint," " The Commoners of 
 England," and " The Lord, His Banqueting House." 
 
 Without well knowing why, Waggoner Hal found 
 himself possessed of " Doctor George Brown's Prophecy 
 Concerning the Jesuits," " A Treatise on the Signification 
 of Moles on any part of the Body," a fine new song en- 
 titled, " The Whimsical Wife," with the tune thereto. 
 The husband changes work with his wife for one day, and 
 in consequence — 
 
 " The pigs they wanted service, 
 
 They made their wants be heard — 
 They broke into the dairy, 
 
 And served themselves instead. 
 
 " The cheese and butter suifered 
 Before he got them out, 
 The cans of viilk they overset 
 And dashed the cream about!"
 
 92 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 The houses of Chelmsford are wooden-fronted and with 
 bulging foreheads look down on the busy market-place. 
 Under these the Quaker moved quietly from one cus- 
 tomer to another, and in an hour the wains were un- 
 loaded and their whole contents stored in the granaries 
 of the merchants to wait a chance of being carried to 
 Smithfield and Lincoln's Inn Fields. Hal began to regret 
 that he had come so far to see so little when the idea 
 came to him to follow in the direction which had been 
 taken by the royalist horse. He gained a rising ground 
 outside the town, and there from a little flowery knoll he 
 saw a wonderful sight. The raiders from the West 
 were arriving. Squadrons of them rode on the high 
 ground above the river, their plumes blowing out in the 
 dusty breeze which was raised by the feet of the horses. 
 They were coming in fast, and Hal had not even time 
 to get back before the first riders were abreast of him. 
 The Lady Molly was talking eagerly with a tall man of 
 middle age, whom Hal thought to resemble Colonel 
 Cromwell. He also wore a red Montero cap like that 
 which, when wearied with his helmet, Oliver would often 
 put on. 
 
 But by the thick High German voice and the pierc- 
 ing restless eyes, Hal presently made sure that this 
 could be no other than Prince Robber — Rupert of the 
 Rhine. 
 
 The Prince looked up and seeing Hal stand on his 
 knoll, called upon him to come forward. 
 
 " You are a fine stout fellow," he said good-humouredly 
 enough ; " are you content to take service with me, 
 waggoner? " 
 
 " I am already in good service, I thank you, sir," said 
 Hal promptly, knowing that he must answer quickly to 
 such a questioner. 
 
 " In whose service, sirrah? " 
 
 " In that of Master Scale, the Quaker, so please your 
 highness."
 
 RUPERT KEEPS TRYST 93 
 
 ** Serve a Quaker when you can serve your King — 
 never. Bring up a led horse. Now let me see if you can 
 get astride it. Jack Holmby, guard him and put a bullet 
 through his back if he tries to play us false." 
 
 " Prince," said the Lady Molly, reaching out a gloved 
 hand to touch his sleeve, " I am short of stout men. 
 Indeed, I have far more need than you. I think I know 
 the lad's face. He is of our neighbourhood. Give him 
 to me, and I warrant that he shall not seek to escape 
 from my servitude." 
 
 " He would be a fool to try," cried the hearty Rhine- 
 lander. " I know at least one who would be content to 
 be your slave ! " 
 
 And he swept the red Montero in a fine curve to his 
 knee. 
 
 The Lady Molly nodded a saucy sidelong acknowl- 
 edgment, more with her chin than with her head, took 
 the Prince's gift of Hal for granted, and swept onward 
 to the town with fifteen hundred of the best cavalry in 
 Britain behind her. Rupert's men had never been 
 vanquished and the proud consciousness of the fact 
 showed in their gallant bearing, in the care of their 
 accoutrement, their white and blue ribbons and plumed 
 hats, and their ringlets dancing on their shoulders like 
 a girl's lovelocks. The officers were free with their 
 horses, for they looked on each skirmish as an oppor- 
 tunity of remounting themselves or their troop. Besides, 
 whether in friendly or hostile territory, a horse was ahorse 
 to be requisitioned in the name of the King and Prince 
 Rupert. If the owner chose to lament, it showed he was 
 a knave and a rebel at heart, and as such liable to be 
 strung up to the nearest tree. But at this time Rupert's 
 brigade had not met with Colonel Cromwell and the new 
 type of cavalryman he was making out of the tawny- 
 coated levies of the fens. They had indeed heard vague 
 rumours of what was going on. And they had been 
 pleased to laugh. To them Colonel Cromwell was " the
 
 94. HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Huntingdon brewer " and his Ironsides " the brewer's 
 draymen." But there came a day when they learned 
 better, and then no man was quicker than Rupert of 
 the Rhine to uphold the transcendent merits of the New 
 Model. 
 
 Meantime they rode on through the town. They 
 clamoured at the " White Horse " and the " King's 
 Head " till several barrels of ale were rolled out and an 
 army of extemporised drawers willingly served them. 
 For Rupert would allow no man out of his saddle. 
 
 Hal managed, however, to attract the attention of 
 Loud Tom, who, seeing him in such company, took one 
 look at his haltered feet and immediately started for 
 Boreham Barns to warn the Hog Laners of the capture 
 of their Captain. They could not hope to rescue him by 
 direct attack, but at least the outhouses of so uncertain 
 a man as his master was no place for a troop of good 
 Anabaptists. So long before dusk Zered had his men safe 
 on the woody slopes beyond Witham, whence he could 
 keep a watch upon the enemy and wait for the return of 
 Captain Hal. 
 
 For such was Hog Lane's belief in their chief, that no 
 man believed he had really been captured. He had let 
 himself be taken in order to gain information — so much 
 was possible and even likely — but he would come back 
 to lead them when he knew all that Colonel Cromwell had 
 sent him to find out. 
 
 The Prince detached fifty men to bring in supplies. 
 They seized the hay and oats which had changed hands 
 that day, sweeping the granaries of the London expedi- 
 tioners as clean as a picked bone. They did not, however, 
 come up with the Quaker, who had ridden off as soon as 
 he had his money safe in pouch. Nor did they find Silas 
 Scale's horses, for Loud Tom had gotten them safely 
 across the water. The hay-v.?ains stood abandoned in the 
 Quaker's Corner of the Market Square and several of 
 these were taken, horsed with the impressed teams of
 
 RUPERT KEEPS TRYST 95 
 
 less wise and foreseeing men, and driven ofif to be re- 
 loaded with the provend they had brought to town in 
 the morning. 
 
 Meanwhile Hal, the waggoner newly recruited for the 
 service of his Majesty and Prince Rupert, rode calmly on 
 in the rear of the array and kept his eyes about him. 
 There was a curious lack of discipline about the cavaliers, 
 which contrasted with the grim punctiliousness of the 
 Ironside troops. But though they shouted and sang on 
 the march when it seemed good to them, and paid little 
 heed to their officers, Hal knew that it would be very 
 different on the day of battle. Then they would strike 
 together with the force and unity of a sledge-hammer. 
 The men jested with their captains or attracted his, 
 attention by a shouted nickname, because they were all 
 gentlemen, and as capable as he of holding his Majesty's 
 Commission. They had one Chief whom they followed 
 and whose name they bore. They were Rupert's men, 
 and they did right to vaunt him an incomparable cavalry 
 leader. For so he was till the day he met someone 
 stronger than he, who to his dash and vigour added 
 the steadiness which he always lacked in the hour of 
 victory. 
 
 The House of Danbury Towers stood a little east of the 
 crest of the hill, clear of the village towards Runsel, and 
 to this day an intricate labyrinth of sunken lanes, filled 
 in summer with wild rose and honeysuckle, indicates the 
 extent and direction of Lady Molly's principal defences. 
 Her saturnine chief of staff, Septimus Hepburn, fresh 
 from his experience of the great Gustavus, distrusted 
 mere stone-and-lime unsupported by trenches and earth- 
 works. So that under his care Danbury Towers became 
 by far the most strongly entrenched position in East 
 England south of the Trent. 
 
 The buildings about the castle, already amply garri- 
 soned, could not contain a third of the force which had 
 ridden across country from Amersham. The neighbour-
 
 96 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 ing farms and their chief barns and outbuildings, the 
 village of Danbury, straggling pleasantly down from its 
 yellow church spire, the vicarage among the trees, the 
 hamlets of Runsel and Horseshoe Forge, were soon filled 
 to overflowing. When the Norfolk Brown Octobers 
 came in, they would need, in the absence of tents, to go 
 farther afield. And because of this Quaker Scale was at 
 that moment clearing his barns and lofts of all traces of 
 their recent Roundhead guests. Loud Tom was away 
 seeing Lieutenant Tuby into a place of retirement, and 
 arranging with the neighbouring squires, all good Par- 
 liament men, to keep them well supplied. These he found 
 much occupied with cattle-driving, digging, and treasure- 
 hiding. For the news that Prince Rupert was in the land 
 laid the fear of despoilment upon every man. Still, they 
 would do what they could. Colonel Cromwell would not 
 forget them. It was good hearing that they had already 
 one troop of his horse among them. Not far off and 
 where? But Loud Tom was now suddenly Silent Tom. 
 He did not tell a soul where he had left Zered and his 
 men. The provend was to be delivered at the Bishop's 
 Ford early every morning, unless the enemy should be in 
 the neighbourhood. So all along Witham Heights a 
 sharp watch was set, while the Hog Laners kept their 
 arms bright, their powder dry, and prayed God for the 
 swift return of their Captain.
 
 "A 
 
 X 
 
 MOLLY HATES HAL 
 
 ** \ MERRY welcome, friend Hal," said a clear mel- 
 low voice, a throaty contralto, as the false wag- 
 goner shut the door behind him. The room was 
 dusky and for a moment Hal Ludlow, coming out of the 
 sun-glare, did not see the lissom girlish figure seated on 
 the centre table, busy with the cleaning of a pair of pis- 
 tols, " What do you here, old comrade ? Why are you 
 not with your father at Ely (or is it Cambridge) finding 
 money for the King's enemies ? " 
 
 Up to this moment Hal had cherished a belief that 
 Lady Molly had not recognised him, but he was ready 
 and unabashed. He faced the situation at once. He was 
 a spy, and if Rupert got wind of him, he would be strung 
 up to the nearest tree without benefit of clergy. 
 
 " I heard of my friend little Molly Woodham — how 
 she had fallen among bad company. So I came south- 
 ward to see her, thinking I might be of use to her." 
 
 The girl shook her head energetically. " Tell the truth, 
 Hal, if so be you can," she said reproachfully. " You 
 were ever a bully and abused me shamefully, but you 
 had not used to tell lies. You came to spy us out, to 
 carry back tidings of our weakness and isolation to 
 Colonel Cromwell ! " 
 
 In fact, Lady Molly accused Hal of the exact identical 
 thing which he had been sent to do. But mark the guile 
 of man — the way of a man with a maid, which in his 
 day Solomon found so mysterious. 
 
 Hal, seeing no one in the room except their two selves, 
 
 97
 
 98 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 stepped lightly across the carpet, laid one hand lightly 
 on her shoulder as he had been wont to do. 
 
 " Do you remember the Sunday we stayed all day in 
 Speakman's Spinny and watched the paternals going to 
 church and the servants scouring the country for us? 
 Did I betray you then? Who was it who received the 
 blame and took the whipping? Do you think that Hal 
 Ludlow would do different now ? " 
 
 She shivered a little and then suddenly held out her 
 hand. 
 
 " No, I do not beheve it of you, Hal ! " 
 
 The young man breathed more freely. He was no 
 better than other young fellows of his age and upbringing, 
 and life smiled upon him. He was pleased with it. 
 He would (and did) risk his hfe upon the chance of 
 battle, but to be hanged as a spy, while his troop waited 
 for his return a mile or two away, sent a shuddering 
 chill to his marrow. 
 
 " But why this waggoner's dress ? " she went on. 
 " Why did you not ride up to the Towers like a gentle- 
 man? " 
 
 " Would I have been admitted — I the son of Mr. Corn- 
 missionary Ludlow, nephew of Sir Edmund the republi- 
 can? Why, I should never have gotten within five 
 hundred yards of you, with all the squirekins of the East 
 Corner about you. Do you want to put a rope about my 
 neck? Let me be waggoner Hal, at your service, and 
 we shall understand one another." 
 
 " Will you, then, serve the King? " She looked at him 
 with a certain appeal to which he answered promptly. 
 
 " No, little Molly, I am of your father's opinion, but 
 I will serve you and be faithful. Forgive me, Molly, I 
 would give all I possessed to get out of this. I do not 
 reproach you, but by the Lord I cannot guess what set 
 you upon this folly " 
 
 " Take care what you say ! " She stood up, the pistol 
 she had been polishing still in her hand, so suddenly that
 
 MOLLY HATES HAL 99 
 
 Hal instinctively gave back a step. " I allow no one to 
 criticise my acts — not even my father, how much less 
 
 you 
 
 I " 
 
 " Oh, I am not afraid of you, Molly," he answered, 
 smiling; " though you look just as you looked when you 
 scratched my face. You can do it and welcome if it will 
 relieve your feelings. I promise not to return you a black 
 eye this time. But I give you fair warning, my Lady 
 Molly, if you keep me here when I should be at my work, 
 I promise and vow to carry you off as soon as I can — aye, 
 if it be packed like a truss of hay across my saddle-bow." 
 
 The girl had moved towards the window and was look- 
 ing out. At Hal's threat she broke into a ripple of 
 laughter, rather deep than loud or clear, like water run- 
 ning underground. Her arm swept the circle of the 
 great encampment. 
 
 "Take me from the midst of all these — my good Hal ? 
 Has dotage come upon you so soon ? " 
 
 " I dote," said Hal, with some hypocrisy, " 'tis true, 
 I own. But this is no dotage. Or rather I dote so bravely 
 that ere long I shall take you back out of this hurly-burly, 
 where designing men are making a figure-head of you." 
 
 The girl moved angrily away, with a movement of the 
 hand which signified that the interview was over. But 
 Hal Ludlow was not the man to be so put down, or to 
 forego any advantage with a woman. He moved swiftly 
 between her and the door. 
 
 " Behave now, Molly, or I shall twist your arm," he 
 said ; " you know you always were a coward about 
 pain! " 
 
 " You are the same coward you always were, Hal 
 Ludlow, and you serve me so because you know I will 
 not have you hanged as a spy, as is my duty." 
 
 " Nay, hang me if you like, Molly, but remember that 
 if you do, you will never know how nice it is to be run 
 away with, a man's arm about your waist — a man who 
 loves you, and whom you love "
 
 100 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " I do not love you, Hal Ludlow, I hate you " 
 
 " Whom you love most confoundly, and who is going 
 to teach you how to love him ten thousand times better ! 
 Hang me high as Haman, and you shall never know that, 
 little Molly ! " 
 
 He let go her arm suddenly and went out, shutting the 
 door behind him with a masterful bang, which in turn 
 aggravated the girl so much that she rushed to open it 
 and to call down the stairs after him. 
 
 " I hate you, Hal Ludlow. I never hated any man so 
 much ! " 
 
 Hal Ludlow owned to himself, as he rode away from 
 the outer defences of Danbury Towers, that he did not 
 know he could be quite so much of a brute to any woman. 
 Yet somehow it seemed the right way to treat little Molly 
 Woodham, when she was bent on making a fool of her- 
 self. He had always bullied her more than a little and it 
 came natural somehow now — natural and useful. 
 
 He had seen all that he came to see. He had been 
 hail-fellow-well-met with the Oxford raiders. Though 
 an abstemious man by nature he had drunk down squad 
 after squad of Brown Octobers. His head had buzzed, 
 but nevertheless he had sat among them with eyes and 
 ears wide open for every hint of plan or disclosure of 
 numbers which might be of use to his general. 
 
 Betraying the woman who was keeping faith with him 
 — who had only to speak the word " spy " to hang him ? 
 No, certainly not, the thought that he could possibly be 
 acting thus never struck him. Hal knew better, and was, 
 in fact, never more content with himself than during 
 those days and nights which he spent at the Towers, 
 sounding the spirit of the soldiers, and making himself 
 familiar with every detail of the defences. It was all for 
 the sake of little Molly with whom he had played, who 
 had scratched his face, and told him a score of times 
 what a bold, bad, and utterly detestable boy he was. He
 
 MOLLY HATES HAL 101 
 
 knew that he was in no way betraying Molly. Contrari- 
 wise, he was going- to save her. This he had often done 
 before when she had some mad project in her head. Then 
 he had taken her up kicking, biting, and scratching, 
 tucked her under his arm and carried her into the house 
 — upstairs to her nursery, or in severe cases into one of 
 the tower garrets, when there happened to be a key in 
 the door. Here he would leave her for an hour or two to 
 redden her angry little knuckles against the solid oak, 
 and spoil the toecaps of her London shoes in the vain 
 attempt to kick in the iron-studded panellings by sheer 
 force of wrathful shank. 
 
 What else was he intending now? Who had a right 
 if not he? Her oldest friend, somewhat her director 
 through ten eventful vacations from school and college, 
 her father's friend (Hal did not blush to give the thing 
 that colour!), he saw his little Molly being made a mock 
 of by plunderers and led-captains who cared nothing for 
 her, but would leave her in the lurch, when (as sooner or 
 later must be the case) the castle got itself stormed. He, 
 Hal Ludlow, meant to save her from all this and if she 
 kicked and bit, scratched and fought — well, he thought 
 he could stand that too. Here again we come down to 
 that necessary substratum of brutality, which underlay 
 Hal's gay and light demeanour, and fitted him to be a 
 good Captain of Ironsides, and an inflicter of Colonel 
 Cromwell's discipline upon the New Model army just 
 then springing into being. 
 
 He had ridden calmly out of the Eve's Corner gate, 
 near which was an inn much frequented by the few 
 Brown Octobers who had not gone back to Oxford with 
 Rupert upon the report, sedulously propagated by Hal, 
 that Colonel Cromwell was approaching with the whole 
 Eastern army to take the castle and put the defenders 
 to the sword. 
 
 Rupert had waited a day and a night on the round top 
 of the Rodney, watching for any sign of the enemy.
 
 lOa HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Gladly would he have found them then or at any other 
 time, wherever there was plain ground for a charge, 
 uphill or downhill, front, flank or rear. But the business 
 of a siege was noways to his liking. His qualities were 
 lost behind stone and lime, and he loathed earthworks of 
 the latest continental pattern. The ravel of little lanes 
 and communicating tunnels about the east-looking crest 
 of Danbury Hill would be death and destruction to his 
 horsemen. He would not dismount his gentlemen and 
 put them to digging molehills, nor turn them into train- 
 bands and pikemen to defend mud walls. So finding no 
 advantage in remaining in a neighbourhood while the 
 Roundheads were mustering for his destruction, he swept 
 up such of the Brown Octobers as were young and 
 specially well mounted, or old and with long purses. 
 Then he said a most courteous good-bye to my Lady 
 Molly, wished her all good luck in the King's name, 
 borrowed fifty gold pieces to pay his overnight losses at 
 ombre, and rode away — as fine a gentleman and as un- 
 scrupulous a bandit as ever kissed the hand of fair 
 lady. 
 
 The day after Hal Ludlow was knocking with his 
 sword-hilt upon the shut doors of the farm-steading of 
 Boreham Barns, and shouting " Come down, Quaker, or 
 I will set fire to your great barn." 
 
 For long nothing stirred, and then a rustling as of 
 enormous rats reached Hal's ear from the mow at the 
 western end, the sole which still remained, and through 
 a three-cornered wicket poked the frowsy head of Loud 
 Tom Christopher the foreman. His hair was more 
 stubbly in colour and hempen in consistence than ever, 
 and he blinked with the blank goggle-eyed inane counte- 
 nance of a man who has been sleeping away a rich and 
 profitable day. 
 
 This was so far from being Tom's habit that Hal 
 promptly charged him with spirituous indulgence. 
 
 " And my uniform, rascal — my head-piece and cui-
 
 MOLLY HATES HAL 103 
 
 rass, Tom, the Oversman? Hasn't swapped them 
 for bottles of Hollands and drunk up my good 
 harness ? " 
 
 " Nay, Master Hal, as thou well dost know. 1 am no 
 friend to excess, though at times I can be doing with a 
 jug of stone ale as well as another. But the steel pot for 
 thy brain-pan is here with all thy other 'coutrements, 
 safe wrapped in one of master's waggon sheets, and a 
 cat's jump to the left of yon copse is a little hole in the 
 hill with nut bushes and green truck growing about. 
 There is your horse, well stabled and ready for the road. 
 The troop will be blithe to see you, Captain. They are 
 main tired of Witham, where every day the provisions 
 are harder to get " 
 
 All the time Tom was dusting himself down and soon 
 the great door was opened and Loud Tom stood there 
 with a bundle in his arms. The King's hat and lace scarf 
 disappeared, the blue and white favours, Lady Molly's 
 gift, were tossed in a corner, and once again with a great 
 gasp of relief stood up an armed Captain of Ironsides, 
 every button and plate shining and the red cloth of the 
 coat carefully brushed. With exact hand he adjusted 
 to the best advantage the plume of his casque. Then he 
 crowned himself with anxious adjustment, saying, 
 " 'Tis a great comfort to a man, a good steel pot ! " 
 Which indeed was true in the case of a captain of horse, 
 of that very special New Model breed raised by Colonel 
 Oliver Cromwell, which was to change so completely the 
 course of history. 
 
 " Come now, Captain," said Loud Tom, after he had 
 turned about once or twice to get the straw spikes and 
 burrs plucked out of his tunic. " One good turn deserves 
 another. We are here four good Anabaptists and we 
 are most dustily tired of this here hanging-on work. 
 Quaking don't suit us. We have horses bought for a 
 price with our own moneys, arms too of a kind. The 
 men are all up at the timber shed at the spinny yonder,
 
 104. HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 waiting for 'ee, Master Hal, till they know what answer 
 ye will make." 
 
 " Answer what, Tom ? Out with it ! What do you 
 want?" 
 
 " Just to ride with you, Captain Hal — ye made a poor 
 waggoner, but from what I hear from our 'folk up Gedney 
 way, there be few to match ye in the soldiering trade. 
 We be minded to enlist with our own lads — us all comes 
 from French Drove — not much on drill as yet, how could 
 we ? But all, as Israel Toombs said of his missus, ' Wall- 
 eyed, but willing-hearted.' " 
 
 Loud Tom laughed at his own jest. " Aye," he re- 
 peated, tasting the flavour of his own wit, " that's us — 
 wall-eyed, but willing-hearted ! " 
 
 They were still in the yard and during a short absence 
 of Tom the Oversman, it seemed to Hal that he had 
 heard a strange whining noise from a range of low 
 buildings which on his former visit had been still popu- 
 lous with pigs. These had now all disappeared, as in- 
 deed had done everything about the place. Stillness 
 brooded with heavy wing over Boreham Barns, but like 
 the moaning of the wind through a keyhole, there came 
 to his ears this singular sound, at once persistent and 
 irregular. There was a human something about it too, 
 which bore upon Hal's imagination. He had no objec- 
 tion to anyone sufifering for a good or sufficient cause, 
 but he could not bear that any should be mishandled or 
 left without redress. His thoughts flew to his troops. 
 Could one of them have been wounded in his absence, 
 hidden away, and now perhaps dying of thirst in some 
 cellar? 
 
 He called to Loud Tom, who came instantly at the 
 sound of his voice. He was carrying a couple of hams, 
 swung one on either side as a maid carries her milking 
 pails. Strings of sausages and dark-coloured puddings 
 garlanded his neck. Dutch sea-bread and French biscuits 
 made his huge side-pockets bulge. It was clear that in
 
 MOLLY HATES HAL 105* 
 
 the first of military exigencies, Loud Tom would make an 
 excellent soldier. He had the instinct of making ample 
 provision, 
 
 " Tom," said Captain Hal, pointing in the direction of 
 the sound, "what may be over yonder?" 
 " What may be which, Captain Hal ? " 
 " The noise I hear, as of a man in pain." 
 Loud Tom the Oversman laughed gurglingly, and, 
 marching over to the first pig-sty, kicked away the 
 great stone, called " Lazarus " — used to keep in any 
 rebellious " snorter " given to digging his way out — for 
 them " Lazarus " fell upon his upturned nose, filling up 
 the pit already digged and making the too diligent sapper 
 squeal with pain. Then with his loot still upon his back, 
 Tom shot a couple of bolts and swung open a sparred 
 iron door. Hal stooped and through the low and narrow 
 doorway beheld the Quaker sitting wringing his hands 
 in the corner. His complaints filled the narrow prison- 
 house and flowed out in a steady stream. 
 
 " I am in Meshek. I sojourn in the tents of Kedar. 
 The bloody-minded have taken vengeance upon me ! 
 Woe is me — woe and double woe ! " 
 
 " Don't mind a word he say. Captain. He sent that 
 Amorite Joe Cormack with a letter to Prince Rupert to 
 warn him that you were a Captain in Oliver's horse, 
 spying within the castle — that the Lady Molly was a 
 party to the plot, and that the only true friend the King 
 had in these parts was his loyal and humble subject, 
 Silas Scale, of the sect called Quakers, frequently 
 honoured in happier days with the King's commands. 
 Oh, Master Silas, do not deny your signature and super- 
 scription. I have the letter here, and to the castle it 
 would have gone, if Hairbreadth Billing had not scragged 
 the Amorite's wicked throat as he leaped the Trysting 
 Stile, shaken him out, pounded him, and so found the 
 letter crackling inside the lining of his waistcoat. So 
 as we had much to do, we shut Master Silas up here and
 
 106 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 left him water to drink and a loaf to gnaw — which was a 
 deal better than he deserved. But the Quakers are main 
 honest folk — all of them, that is, except Silas, and we 
 spared him for the sake of his kin. One black sheep don't 
 blacken the flock." 
 
 Hal was immediately and fiercely wroth — not because 
 of the man's treachery to himself, but because, being a 
 Quaker, he had abandoned and betrayed the Cause which 
 ought to have been dear to him. 
 
 " 'Tis little use wasting such good words on him. 
 Captain Hal," advised Loud Tom ; " he has no love save 
 for his strong-box, nor any Cause for which he cares ex- 
 cept that which will bring him in more coined money." 
 
 " I am the man that hath seen affliction," came the 
 voice from the pig-sty. " He hath led me into darkness, 
 and my heart is humbled within me ! " 
 
 " Well, let's hope so," concurred Loud Tom cheerfully. 
 " I shall keep the letter and if there is any complaint of 
 further treachery I shall show it to Colonel Cromwell. 
 If I do, I warrant you that neither Mechek nor Meso- 
 potamia shall be far enough away to hide you from his 
 halter!" 
 
 The Quaker stood shaking on the pavement of the line 
 of troughs, down which in times of plenty the pigs' swill 
 .had been wont to run. Loud Tom tossed the keys at his 
 feet with the clash of iron striking stone. 
 
 " There," he said, " you will find all in order, and 
 under a nail on my desk a note of all our takings in the 
 name of the army which we are riding to join — all, that 
 is, except Joe Cormack, the Amorite who is in the pig- 
 sty next but one. Be careful how you disturb him, for 
 he took in a brace of brandy with him to while away the 
 time." 
 
 " Where are my horses — my cattle ? — you have robbed 
 me," shouted the Quaker. 
 
 ** All gone to Colonel Cromwell and Commissioner 
 Ludlow," said Loud Tom complacently. " They are both
 
 MOLLY HATES HAL 107 
 
 at Cambridge this week, and need service. Most men 
 would like to be robbed in like fashion, for had your 
 friends from the Towers come and taken them off, no 
 shilling of payment would you ever have seen ! " 
 
 Without another word the two men turned their backs 
 upon the great yard of Boreham Barns, leaving their late 
 master to pick up the keys, forlornly muttering the while 
 the overword of his favourite psalm: — 
 
 "A good man's footsteps by the Lord 
 Are ordered aright. 
 And hi the way wherein he walks 
 He greatly doth delight." 
 
 He, Silas Scale, was par excellence the Good Man — 
 nay, speaking humbly yet with just reason, he might be 
 called " The Man after God's own heart." If David 
 could say as much — why not he? Silas hath no little 
 affair like that of Bathsheba upon his conscience, though 
 he liked reading about it too.
 
 XI 
 
 HAL'S HOMING 
 
 THE Hog Laners had never doubted but that their 
 Captain would return. Yet to have him come back 
 in triumph, plume floating, helm and harness shin- 
 ing and four good Anabaptists well mounted attending 
 him, was an absolute triumph. The shout that went up 
 from the coppices about Witham might have been heard 
 at Danbury Towers had the garrison not been too busy 
 with their entrenched camp to pay any heed. They had 
 need to be busy, for soon Hal Ludlow was riding Cam- 
 bridgeward with his report. 
 
 There Colonel Cromwell, uncrowned King of the fens, 
 a great power in these parts, was gathering in contribu- 
 tions for the Houses. No county gave so liberally as 
 Cambridge — no town so grudgingly and costively as the 
 University seat. For which reason it was well for Colonel 
 Cromwell to be in hand with six troops of horse, and to 
 let the colleges see them march and countermarch, 
 veterans to a man, able and ready for anything, and 
 particularly willing to shed the blood of any armed 
 malcontents who might come their way. 
 
 Hal rode joyously at the head of his Hog Laners. 
 Sometimes the little dark ringlets of his lieutenant, 
 crisped under his black " pot," would range up beside 
 him for a quiet word. Anon Zered would rein back to 
 his place, or even fall behind to drop hint to Loud Tom 
 and the new recruits as to the proper answers to give 
 when they should meet with Colonel Cromwell. 
 
 " Let the Captain answer what he likes. He will tell 
 the tale better than you. If he wants to bring off the 
 
 108
 
 HAL'S HOMING 109 
 
 young lady scatheless, saying that she is held in duress 
 and against her will — well, after all, 'tis a good lie, and 
 the wench is my Lord Woodham Walter's only daughter. 
 Moreover, lads, 'tis none of our business." 
 
 " Master Lieutenant, I be called Loud Tom, I know," 
 the Oversman added, " 'tis my habit of speech and I 
 cannot help it. But to be loud is not to be loose of 
 tongue, and Tom of the Barns can hold his with any 
 man." 
 
 He jerked his head in the direction of the head of the 
 troop where Captain Hal, chin in air, was trolling forth 
 the verse of a song. 
 
 " Sounds like no psalm that ever I heard," said Loud 
 Tom, " not leastways in our parts, but then I hain't 
 travelled much, come to think ! " 
 
 " Can't always surely tell," said the little lieutenant, 
 grinning, " they have got some curious new tunes up 
 Ely way, amazing spritely they be, as my blessed mother 
 said when the cat kittened in her Valenceens cap box ! " 
 
 " Aye, must be ! " commented Loud Tom drily. 
 
 " Ararantha stvect and fair, 
 Forbear to braid that shining hair, 
 Like the sun his early ray 
 Shake thy head, and scatter day." 
 
 The words came clearly enough, and the Lieutenant 
 blushed for his senior. 
 
 " After all," he said in excuse, " he's no Anabaptist, 
 and then he is young. What should he be thinking about 
 but the maids ? 'Tis natural, so it is, and I am no friend 
 to those who would make fourscore years out of twenty. 
 You will find him a rare fighting Captain, and stiff on 
 discipline, as his master has taught him. Let him alone 
 to-day. He will sing a psalm with the best of us when 
 we string out our battle front for the charge. I have 
 heard him before now." 
 
 Evening fell slowly as the steeples of Cambridge
 
 110 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 showed up out of the level fen, looming disproportionately 
 large against the ruddy sky. An immense pile of fleecy 
 tumulus clouds mounted from the horizon to the zenith, 
 bossed and fire-tipped on its western side. There was a 
 teasing wind up there, and Hal noticed that the cool 
 eastern outliers bent over and overwhelmed the sunny 
 peaks. As the sun caught them they glowed metallic like 
 the cuirasses of his own Ironsides. It was a good omen, 
 and he watched wath interest what should befall. The 
 towers of Cambridge stood out against a broad horizon 
 belt of pale aerial green, very wistful and solemn. Above 
 the heavens were given up to the simulacrum of armed 
 war. 
 
 At that time in London busy with his Latin pupils 
 dwelt one John Milton, who in the oncoming tempest 
 saw the clash of thrones and dominations, all the war of 
 an angel onset. But nothing of this troubled Hal, who 
 was only concerned to get his men dry into Cambridge 
 and his meeting with his chief over. 
 
 He reached the guarded gate where the Slepe Troop 
 welcomed him with a glad shout. 
 
 " Go on, youngster," cried Sam Squire the Adjutant, 
 " he is waiting for you at the Mayor's house — your father 
 too, I think. I hope you have a good tale to tell." 
 
 " Capital," cried Hal over his shoulder, " I was cap- 
 tured by Rupert and got away ! " 
 
 " What, not the Prince ? " 
 
 " Who other ? I shall spin you a yarn when we fore- 
 gather. Can you lend me a clean pair of hose? These I 
 wear are mostly holes, besides being full of ticklesome 
 hay burrs ! " 
 
 " All you want, lad, when you get clear of the great 
 folk!" 
 
 Hal and his troop of Hog Laners went on to the Town 
 House of the Mayor, eagerly guided by a street urchin 
 in the picturesque disarray of a grain bag with holes 
 for his head and arms. The open end made a skirt
 
 HAL'S HOMING 111 
 
 which reached to his knees. Anything more airy and 
 pleasant for summer wear could not be devised — that is, 
 after one had got accustomed to the rasp of the material 
 on the bare skin. 
 
 The rare oil lanterns, hung on posts, were being lighted 
 along the streets, and college halls glowed bright as Hal 
 and his band rode through the town. The green twilight 
 cast rosy reflections on the roadways and Hal quickened 
 his pace as he neared the end. 
 
 At the Town House he dismounted, and called out 
 his name to an orderly who stood on the steps. 
 
 " Captain Ludlow of the seventh troop to see Colonel 
 Cromwell ! " 
 
 He passed within, and the patient Hog Laners dis- 
 mounted outside, still standing in rank, easing girths and 
 furtively rubbing down their mounts, as good cavalry- 
 men ought, whose lives are in the legs of their horses. 
 
 Cromwell was sitting at the Council Board with two 
 others — one of whom was Mr. Commissioner Ludlow. 
 Hal saluted all three gravely and equally — or rather he 
 saluted his superior officer and let his father and the 
 rather frightened Mayor take what part of the homage 
 they might think their due. 
 
 " Well, Captain," said Cromwell, " we thought you 
 were lost and all your troop. Let us hear what awaits us 
 at Danbury. Is that Hog Lane I hear outside — any 
 losses?" 
 
 " None, I have brought them all back, and five good 
 fighting recruits whom I shall present to you when you 
 are more at leisure." 
 
 Colonel Cromwell became good-humoured at once, as 
 he always did when he heard of suitable enlistments. 
 
 " Tell your story," he said, sitting back in his chair, 
 " what of my Lord Woodham's wench and her defences 
 of the Towers? " 
 
 So Hal told all his tale of the coming and going of the 
 Oxford raid, his being pressed by Rupert, and how the
 
 112 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Lady Molly, recognising an old playfellow, had begged 
 him off. How he had seen everything and finally ridden 
 away unchecked, his escape as good as connived at. 
 
 " Lady Molly is no more a malignant than I am," he 
 declared stoutly, " her father has been a little too round 
 with her, that is all, and she is a spoilt maid like most 
 only daughters " 
 
 " And sons," put in Mr. Commissioner Ludlow, drum- 
 ming upon the table. 
 
 " The place is formidable enough, but can do us little 
 harm. The King's garrison within have no following in 
 the county. The neighbourhood is now swept clean of 
 cattle and provender, and the truth is they must starve 
 or shift quarters. As to Lady Molly, I would stake my 
 troop and stand to it that I could persuade her to come 
 over to our side — or if not, I could capture her and 
 carry her to her father at St. James's." 
 
 " Hark to your only son, Mr. Commissioner ! Crows 
 he not loud, this cockerling? He will subdue fortresses. 
 He will carry off maids." 
 
 Hal flushed, not because of his chief's speech, but 
 because it was spoken before his father whom he knew 
 incapable of taking anything lightly. 
 
 " It is a matter," Mr. Commissioner answered heavily, 
 " upon which it might be wise to consult my Lord Wood- 
 ham Walter. I shall write to him to-night." 
 
 " Do nothing of the sort," snapped Cromwell, sharp 
 as the dog of his own pistol, " this is my affair. If Lord 
 Woodham Walter could not look after his daughter when 
 he had her in the house with him, what good will it be to 
 write to him at St. James's?" 
 
 He turned to Hal imperiously. 
 
 " Captain Ludlow," he said, " what force would be 
 necessary to reduce this stronghold ? " 
 
 " Cavalry could not do it," Hal answered, " not even 
 a brigade. They have entrenched the place. Old Sep- 
 timus Hepburn, the Scots veteran with the slashed face,
 
 HAL'S HOMING 113 
 
 has seen well to that. It would need artillery and in- 
 fantry, neither easy for us to come by. But let me go 
 back and if I can bring off Lady Molly, I warrant you 
 that the whole defences will collapse." 
 
 Cromwell glanced at his two stolid companions, seemed 
 to find them hopeless, and with something of relief 
 returned to the anxious eager face of his young Captain. 
 As he looked at the dull countenance and flaccid cheeks 
 of Mr. Commissioner Ludlow, he seemed to be asking, 
 " How came this old brood hen to rear such a cock of 
 the game ? " 
 
 Something young and human touched him, and he 
 became again, though but for a moment, the man of the 
 Tithe House garden where stood the dial — armed war- 
 rior indeed, but still the man who had tossed his children 
 in the air on his return from battle. 
 
 " Well, Hal, we shall see. You have a persuasive way 
 with dames, I am told. If you can catch the Lady Molly, 
 and teach her to hop on our bough and whistle our tune, 
 it would be no bad thing for the Cause, not to speak of 
 all the pleasure it would doubtless be to you thus to 
 serve the Lord." 
 
 With this characteristic irony Cromwell broke off the 
 interview. 
 
 "Report yourself to Major Ireton!" he ordered 
 briefly. " He will assign you quarters." 
 
 Hal saluted and was going, his heart singing within 
 him, when the voice of his Colonel once more swung him 
 round to attention in the threshold of the doorway. 
 
 " Your pardon, gentlemen, I must speak with Captain 
 Ludlow for one moment on a purely military matter." 
 
 The Commissioner and the Mayor of Cambridge 
 solemnly bowed their heads, like mutes at a funeral. 
 
 Cromwell strode across the room. 
 
 " Come without," he whispered, " I shall not sleep 
 to-night if I do not see these new recruits of yours. Are 
 they staunch fellows.'' Of our sort?"
 
 114. HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 He was eager as a schoolboy collecting eggs. He could 
 not wait till the morning. At the first glance Hal knew 
 that their coming had been announced outside. Every 
 man was sitting his horse, motionless and well ordered, 
 for the honour of Hog Lane and Captain Hal. 
 
 "All in good heart, lads?" queried Cromwell, peering 
 down their line with eyes that burned like coals. " Where 
 are the new men ? I do not see them ? " 
 
 " Forward there, Boreham Barns ! " cried Hal. 
 
 And the five newly admitted men rode up to the step 
 on which Colonel Cromwell stood, impatiently switching 
 his leg with the riding whip which dangled from his wrist. 
 
 The front of the Mayor's house carried cressets in 
 which ordinarily during winter nights resinous torches 
 were set. But the nights of the fen were so short and 
 clement at that season that no one had thought of filling 
 the sockets. The chief lost patience. " Idle dogs," he 
 cried to the serving men within, " light your cressets or 
 I shall send you skipping. Is a man blind that he should 
 be reduced to feeling for his soldiers ? " 
 
 The men sprang out upon the porch and with a splutter 
 or two and a muttered curse (which would have cost 
 twelve pence in the ranks of the New Model), the torches 
 flamed. Very stern was the array of Hog Lane. Each 
 steel " pot " on each cropped head shone like a carbuncle. 
 Buckles sparkled and breastplate shone with a mild 
 austere radiance. The horses tossed their heads, but the 
 men sat immovable as if carved in ebony and steel. 
 
 All Oliver's eyes were for the new five. He picked out 
 the leader at once. 
 
 "You, sir, what is your name?" 
 
 " Tom Christopher, sir, but they do mostly call me 
 Loud Tom, on account of my voice." 
 
 " Hum, of what religion are you, Tom ? " 
 
 " I am an Anabaptist, Colonel, and think no shame. 
 'Tis a good staunch creed, and was that of my father 
 before me."
 
 HAL'S HOMING 116 
 
 " A sound answer, Loud Tom, but it were well not to 
 be too loud among my regiments. Understand that, when 
 loud speaking is to be done, I do it." 
 
 " I can be Silent Tom as well, sir,'' he answered as he 
 saluted and retired. 
 
 Cromwell looked after him thoughtfully. 
 
 " If he does well I shall mark him to be a sergeant. 
 He appears to have some authority over the others." 
 
 " Undoubtedly," said Hal, " the four others follow 
 him like sheep." 
 
 " Say rather — like soldiers, Hal. Remember that a 
 good soldier will follow a man who leads and does not 
 wait, who orders and does not argue, who knows where 
 he is going, and goes. They will never let such a man go 
 forward alone." 
 
 Cromwell, well pleased, dismissed the new recruits. 
 He would order their ordinary accoutrements to be sent 
 to them to-morrow. For their red coats they must go 
 to the Intendance. And so " Good-night, lads, eat well, 
 drink sparingly, and do not forget your prayers."
 
 XII 
 
 A JUDAS IN THE CAMP 
 
 FIELDS of wheat were waving green about Runsell, 
 and all across the wide valley when Captain Henry- 
 Ludlow again rode that way. He had all Hog 
 Lane at his back, fifty-five troopers, his lieutenant and 
 four sergeants, sixty basket-hilts in all. Cromwell, who 
 had gone to the north to help raise the siege of Hull, 
 presently threatened by Newcastle's army, could not spare 
 another blade. 
 
 " Besides," said he, " you are a junior Captain and any 
 other whom I might have sent would necessarily have 
 ranked you. Also this is a single-handed job. It must 
 be done neatly or not at all. You are a man of woodcraft, 
 you have lived in the country all your life, and from what 
 I can judge, friend Hal, you read sea and sky, marsh and 
 wood with more diligence and skill than you spend upon 
 your Bible." 
 
 " Nay, but that I read also," objected Hal, with a 
 simplicity which won upon Colonel Cromwell, then with 
 the air of one making a profound and startling confidence, 
 " and the oftener I read that Sermon on the Mount, the 
 better I like it." 
 
 " Well spoken, Hal — I believe you, lad, and I love 
 you the better that you speak out so boldly such curious 
 likings." 
 
 Hal did not perceive the irony of the Colonel's speech, 
 nor did he trouble his head more about the matter as he 
 rode southward with his command. He kept well east 
 towards the Essex marshes, for he understood that from 
 that direction the garrison of Danbury Towers would 
 
 116
 
 A JUDAS IN THE CAMP 117 
 
 have no fears of an attack. They would keep no guard 
 save along the great road from London to Maldon. 
 Besides, the fen men of his troop liked the route They 
 were altogether at home when they passed Mersea and 
 Goldhanger with their green gables ornamented with 
 grotesque figures carved in wood like ships' figure-heads. 
 The Hog Laners sniffed at the smell of the tar and fish. 
 Hal soon had enough of it, and for long after fish was no 
 favourite diet of his. Fish outside and in, fish at break- 
 fast, fish at dinner. The Marsh men were delighted, but 
 Hal, less inured to the single diet, raw, salt, and smoked, 
 spent a good deal of time being " punted " about with an 
 ancient Jacobean swivel gun, great as a carronade and 
 with a mouth like an aim's dish, seeking a change of food 
 for supper. 
 
 Lieutenant Zered used to bring a little dark green 
 bottle every time his chief returned from his expeditions 
 and insist on his swallowing a tot. It contained, he said, 
 medicine against the marsh fever — the only specific, 
 brought from foreign parts by the sailors of Brightling- 
 sea. Hal found it a very admirable specific after a 
 night in a punt, but a more experienced man would 
 have found no great difference between the contents 
 of the little dark green bottle and an excellent brand of 
 Hollands. 
 
 Hal had hard work keeping the minds of the Hog 
 Laners on the affairs of state. He insisted upon daily 
 drill, but for the rest he found, that so long as they were 
 quartered in the coast settlements, it was as well to let 
 the men refresh themselves. Hog Lane, the waxing of 
 bristles, hammer, knife, and lapstone had not changed 
 them — indeed had only given them a greater lust for 
 their original life. They were more than ever " lads of 
 the fen." Zachary Elsegood was no more their tyrant, 
 and Lieutenant Tuby assured Hal that Hog Lane would 
 fight all the better for this free run among things 
 primitive.
 
 118 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 For Colonel Cromwell had strictly forbidden Hal to do 
 his own advance scouting. The good troop was in no case 
 to be left without a head, at least not until it should 
 come to the " final flurry." So Loud Tom with two of 
 his companions were sent on ahead in plain clothes to spy 
 out the land — honest labouring men, Tom Christo- 
 pher the Oversman and his friends, well known to 
 all in these parts, not suspected by any, and able 
 to bring back the most reliable news of the position 
 of affairs at the Towers and how the Lady Molly found 
 herself. 
 
 For the rest. Hog Lane, in curious fishing togs and 
 ragged long-shore garments borrowed in the neighbour- 
 hood, pervaded the upper fens of the Black Water. Thus 
 they gained health and information, but were quite ready 
 to leap into saddle when Sam Squire of the Slepe Troop 
 came spurring with the news that a man, dark and peak- 
 bearded like a Spaniard, was wanted by Oliver — a spy 
 most probably, and a bearer of foreign money to help the 
 Queen. 
 
 He was making for the Wash and at all costs must be 
 caught, otherwise Colonel Cromwell would be excellent to 
 avoid for many days to come. 
 
 " Bring him to me," Colonel Cromwell had ordered, 
 but this Hog Lane could not do. Hal found the man in 
 an old black barn, very hostile and most active with gun 
 and pistol. David Pascal and Amos Pall were both hit, 
 neither severely. Then Hog Lane dismounted in wrath, 
 swung a " snodded " tree trunk end-on at the crack of 
 the barn door by way of a battering-ram, burst it open 
 and rushed in. The Spaniard stood to his point, but was 
 borne down, and being wounded " even unto death," in 
 the dusky corner of the barn, was carried forth of no 
 further use to anybody — though his money was welcome, 
 four thousand golden double Louis, which would have 
 been enough to have bought the service of a thousand 
 Cambden raiders had it found its way beyond the Wash.
 
 A JUDAS IN THE CAMP 119 
 
 But Sam Squire with his escort of four rode off with 
 glad hearts and jingHng saddle-bags. 
 
 " I shall let Colonel Cromwell know how well you 
 served him, and what excellent watch you keep. I 
 should never have found the Spaniard but for you ! " 
 
 " I am sorry he was slain in the tussle," said Hal. 
 " Tell the Colonel he had shot two of our men. So that, 
 getting into the barn, they smote while the heat was on 
 them." 
 
 "Never fear," cried Sam Squire, the Adjutant; "I 
 also was in the barn and did some little smiting. The 
 chief will understand. Besides there is a notice that no 
 quarter is to be given to Cambdeners. They killed three 
 poor men at Bourne, men not under arms ! " 
 
 So he rode away, but Hal, while the grave was digging, 
 slipped his hand into an inner pocket in which parchment 
 crackled and drew out a French Commission in the name 
 of the Chevalier de la Brette of the Prades regiment. He 
 was bidden in the name of the King of France to transact 
 certain affairs in England — a spy certainly therefore, but 
 no Spaniard, as Cromwell had been informed. He had 
 fallen in his duty and Hal Ludlow, who had done some 
 spy work himself and expected to do more, resolved to 
 give Monsieur de la Brette a soldier's funeral. So he 
 summoned Hog Lane and with peal of trumpet, chant of 
 battle psalm, and rattle of musketry, they laid the French- 
 man in his grave among the black peat. 
 
 " Maybe it was not just according to his own regula- 
 tions," said Zered, shutting his Bible on the last chapter 
 of Job, " but we did our best for him. Had he been 
 Colonel Cromwell or a seasoned ' Dipper,' Hog Lane 
 could not have done more ! " 
 
 So the poor Chevalier de la Brette had peace very far 
 from his native Rousillon, the land of black hair and 
 peaked beards which is neither French nor Spanish, but 
 Catalan-Roman, which is quite a different thing. Rest 
 the soul of De Brette (Armande Marie of that name),
 
 120 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 and as for his body, that Hes easy enough under the fair- 
 est spread of buttercups in ten shires. For since the 
 draining of these low levels on the Dutch plan, the Black- 
 water meadows show a broad and bright sheet of gold, 
 out of which white villages peep, nestling comfortably in 
 a land of squires and spires. 
 
 Hal and his troop returned to the Mersey village, and 
 from thence kept the country in great order, raising 
 contributions in the name of Colonel Cromwell and Mr. 
 Commissioner Ludlow. Now and then a Brown October 
 squireen would resent the forced loan, but a good look 
 at the steady array of the Hog Laners on his lawn would 
 make him think better of it, and Hal would ride away 
 with fifty or a hundred pieces under the left gusset of his 
 waistcoat, where he could feel it and yet not interfere 
 with the play of his sword-arm. 
 
 One day Hal, still waiting for the return of his spies 
 (who had orders to stay till they had made all possible 
 observations upon the outgoings and incomings of the 
 Lady Molly), went to his own favourite post in Hail 
 Mary Wood. He had a book with him, a squat little 
 volume of French essays by one Michel Eyquem, Lord of 
 Montaigne and sometime Mayor of Bordeaux. He liked 
 carrying it in his haversack along with the pocket Bible 
 which had been his mother's. It had been becrumbed and 
 bedropped, yellow-stained with egg and salad, from being 
 propped among dishes when he had dined alone. It was 
 solidly bound in vellum as more than one cat, untimely 
 orchestral, had discovered to his cost. Altogether it was 
 a treasure not to be valued and (Buhyan's Pilgrim being 
 yet unwritten though not unacted) it formed the entire 
 library of the Hog Lane Troop. 
 
 Hal lay on his face after the manner of young people 
 when they read half drowsily. His chin was almost on 
 the edge of the Montaigne. In another moment he would 
 have dropped altogether and the Captain of Troop Seven 
 been asleep. But at that exact instant of juncture when
 
 A JUDAS IN THE C4MP 121 
 
 his head was nodding lower and lower, a musket crashed 
 behind him. A bullet tore through the leaves, struck 
 his headpiece and ricocheted away with a vicious zip and 
 splutter. Hal, stunned by the sudden blow on the head, 
 staggered to his feet to look, but though he rushed into 
 a clump of bushes from which the light blue gunpowder 
 was rising he could see nothing. Indeed, the blood was 
 blinding him and he thought himself more seriously 
 wounded than he was. He hastened back to camp where 
 the Hog Laners who were not away in the marshes ran 
 to him shouting with anger and amazement. Zered 
 Tuby washed the wound on his left eyebrow. A flake 
 of lead, splintering upon the helmet, was lodged under the 
 skin. Deftly the Lieutenant ripped it out with a pair of 
 pincers from his housewife, patched up the wound, and 
 prescribed a " tot " from the green medicine bottle. 
 
 Meanwhile, Hog Lane was out hot and angry, gallop- 
 ing along all the roads, pushing through the woods, 
 shouting to each other, searching everywhere but find- 
 ing nothing. The man who had shot at the Captain re- 
 mained deaf to all entreaties to come out and be killed. 
 Then having indicated to his Lieutenant Zered the exact 
 spot where he had been lying (well marked, indeed, by 
 the still open octavo), Hal went to his chamber to lie 
 down. 
 
 Left to himself, Zered Tuby pursued his investigations 
 with his usual grim determination. He brought out his 
 superior's steel " pot," and laying it on the ground where 
 the head had been, he studied carefully the direction 
 of the shot. He came to the conclusion that Captain 
 Hal had been fired at from the edge of the wood, by a 
 heavy man kneeling upon one knee and using the lower 
 crotch of a young pine as a gun-rest. The bullet had 
 struck the helmet at a very acute angle, glanced ofif with- 
 out much change of direction, shaving only the splinter 
 which had cut Hal's eyebrow upon one of the fluted 
 ridges of the " pot." A few minutes more and Zered
 
 122 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Tuby, crouching before the rough trunk of the biggest 
 pine in Hail Mary Wood, was busy as a beaver with 
 probing operations. At the end of half an hour he had 
 pushed out something from the glistening white wood. 
 He held it, still moist with pine-gum, in the palm of his 
 hand and regarded it suspiciously. Then he slipped a 
 hand into his bullet pouch and extracted a second bullet 
 to lay beside the first — the one with the sliver missing. 
 
 He rose hastily to his feet. The two bullets had mani- 
 festly been cast in the same mould. They were identical 
 even to the little double circle which marked the produce 
 of the Parliamentary ammunition factory at London 
 Wall. 
 
 " My God," the searcher gasped, holding the two 
 bullets close to his eye as if he could scarcely be con- 
 vinced, " it is a Hog Lane bullet ! We have a Judas in 
 the camp ! "
 
 XIII 
 TOBIAS MOLE, EXPERT IN WOMEN 
 
 BUT Zered made no report of his discovery to Hal 
 Ludlow. He must watch and make up his mind. 
 So he wrapped the ball he had dug from out of the 
 big pine in a fragment of cloth along with the chip he had 
 taken out of his Captain's eyebrow, and stowed both in 
 his waist-flap against the day of wrath and judgment. 
 He even encouraged the Hog Laners to go searching, and 
 watched the men who were most forward. But he could 
 come to no decision. 
 
 Zered's gloomy brow impressed the men when they 
 returned from their fruitless chase, but they knew the 
 little man's fierce afiFection for his young Captain, and 
 respected his gloomy silence. 
 
 And truly Zered had much upon his mind. 
 
 " If there be amongst us a man willing to shoot his 
 Captain when he is lying as good as asleep, then we have 
 amongst us a man who is willing to betray our plans to 
 the enemy and the sooner we get out of Mersey village 
 the better. I must find a reason for crossing the Black- 
 water before the Captain wakes." 
 
 But he was saved his pains, for a tumult in the camp 
 announced something remarkable in the opinion of the 
 Hog Laners. He looked out and saw Loud Tom 
 Christopher and three followers advancing along the 
 water front, hived about and questioned in vain by the 
 whole troop of Hog Laners. They were making for the 
 Captain's quarters. 
 
 " This way — this way," cried Lieutenant Zered, wav- 
 
 123
 
 124* HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 ing his arms emphatically ; " let the Captain sleep his 
 sleep out." 
 
 Loud Tom and his companions had now been joined by 
 the fifth of their band, Doe Royds, whom they had 
 brought with them from the slippery Quaker's house at 
 Boreham Barns. 
 
 " Come into my quarters and let me hear what you 
 have to say! You men, get to your places. The cor- 
 porals will see to it that all the men are summoned from 
 the marsh by sound of trumpet and that all the horses 
 are saddled and ready! And now (he turned upon the 
 Boreham men) in with you and let me hear your story. 
 Ha, what are you doing there, Doe Royds? You were 
 not upon intelligence duty." 
 
 " I am of the band," said Doe sullenly. " I have always 
 gone with Loud Tom and the mates I " 
 
 " Very likely," said Zered grimly, " at Boreham. But 
 you will obey orders here. Back to your troop in- 
 stantly." 
 
 " As you say. Lieutenant, as you say," the big man 
 answered with something dogged and sycophantish in 
 his manner ; " but I mistook, what with its always being 
 the rule for us Boreham men to stick together. I asks 
 your pardon. Lieutenant Zered Tuby ! " 
 
 And with a sketched salute the discarded fifth lounged 
 sulkily away. 
 
 " Hulking brute ! " growled the Lieutenant between his 
 teeth, but he wasted no more thought upon him, being 
 eager to hear the adventures of Loud Tom and his sub- 
 ordinates. Tom began at once. 
 
 " We made our first station at Boreham Barns. We 
 found it wholly deserted, but everything had been left 
 in place, the carts, ploughs, harrows, and farm gear each 
 in its separate shed. This caused us to bethink ourselves, 
 and we noticed that — well, that much work had been 
 done about the Barns since our departure — carefully done 
 too — as if Silas Seale had been looking on. Then we
 
 TOBIAS MOLE, EXPERT IN WOMEN 125 
 
 came upon certainty. Tobias Mole, who was ever a great 
 one to take notice, caught me by the arm and led me to 
 the threshing-floor. 
 
 " There," says he, " this very same Tobias here (he 
 laid his hand upon a grinning colleague, whose expres- 
 sion indicated no such acuity of judgment), this here 
 Tobias, he says to me, 'Tom (says he), what do you 
 notice about this threshing-floor ? ' ' Why, that it has 
 been swept,' says I. ' Swept — aye, so it has, but did you 
 ever see a threshing-floor swept like that before? Round 
 and round, beginning from the outside till all was gathered 
 into the centre and then lifted clean away with one heave 
 of the braded shovel? Why, so old Master did sweep 
 always and never trusted none of us.' ' Tobias Mole,' 
 says I, ' thou art no blind mole. Old Master Scale it 
 were and he swept in no great hurry either, for he never 
 did a tidier job. And now, Tobias, what wouldst thou 
 like for thy clear sight and good counsel ? ' 
 
 " ' Now't but what I can't have. Loud Tom,' 
 says he, 'and that's a jug of good cider to drink 
 your health ! ' 
 
 " Well," I promised him, " for that thou shalt not 
 lose by the waiting." 
 
 It was evident that Loud Tom left to himself would 
 take a long time to relate all the incidents of his adventure, 
 so the Lieutenant, waxing impatient, decided to proceed 
 by question and answer. He evolved with outward 
 patience but with much internal fuming the following 
 facts, which to Loud Tom's mind, aided by the instinct of 
 Tobias Mole, seemed indisputable. 
 
 Silas Scale had carried off everything in the way of 
 victual, corn, and fodder to an unknown destination. 
 This he had done with the help of assistants unused to 
 field or farm work, whose deficiencies he had supplied in 
 person. The trail of the waggons could be traced in the 
 direction of the outposts of Danbury Towers. 
 
 Furthermore, Silas Scale had been paid for his goods.
 
 126 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 He was no man to work for nothing. Lastly, Borehani' 
 was no safe headquarters for Tom and his mates. If 
 Silas Seale was at the Towers he might return any day 
 to see that his goods were undisturbed or to draw upon 
 one or other of his secret caches and graineries. 
 
 " So (continued Tom), us went to the Red Cow, which 
 is a hostel by the roadside with much stabling and a loft 
 with a safe double-exit in case we must be packing in a 
 hurry." 
 
 " And what about the castle ? " demanded Lieutenant 
 Tuby, fierce as a little terrier at a rat-hole. He contained 
 himself with difficulty in face of Loud Tom's long- 
 windedness. But he recognised that it was impossible 
 to hurry the ex-oversman. He would answer questions, 
 but the details had to be dribbled out in his own way. 
 As for the others they sat open-mouthed at their su- 
 perior's mastery of words. " Tom he do speak better nor 
 owd passon ! " was the appraising comment of Tobias 
 Mole the judicious. 
 
 So, in a kind of agony lest his Captain should wake up 
 before he was in possession of all the facts, Zered Tuby 
 sat tugging at his short curls or knitting his hands till 
 the joints cracked, in a vain attempt to master impa- 
 tience. 
 
 " The little Lady goes not so much about with the 
 officers as she was used to do — never no more market o' 
 Fridays. She keeps more to herself, and the owd Scots- 
 man with the voice like a braying ass gives most orders 
 in her name." 
 
 " Now we are coming to it," thought Zered, and 
 tightened his grip upon himself. 
 
 " Aye, aye, but we were the cunning lads," Loud Tom 
 chuckled, turning his alert blue eyes upon his com- 
 panions ; " we got took on at Woodham Walter to help 
 with the hay, and we helped right enough. Indeed, we 
 might have been there to this minute, but for one thing — 
 aye, aye, ha, ha — but for one thing "
 
 TOBIAS MOLE, EXPERT IN WOMEN 127 
 
 " And what was the one thing? " snapped Zered Tuby 
 impatiently. 
 
 " That one thing were very special particular, eh, 
 mates (he laughed again and slapped his thigh), and 
 well-nigh got us all fitted with hempen collars, eh, lads? 
 'Twas so, wasn't? " 
 
 " Now't less than the sight of old Silas Scale with his 
 broad hat and drab-skirted coat coming dodging between 
 the hay-coles. That was enough for us. We threw 
 down our scythes and broke for the wood ! " 
 
 " And high time too, it was me what got my eye on 
 the owd badger ! " Tobias Mole agreed. 
 
 " I do not see that you have done very much after all, 
 and you have been a precious long time about it. I can 
 tell you I should not like to face Colonel Cromwell with 
 such a tale ! " 
 
 The four men looked at each other and smiled con- 
 tentedly. It was obvious that they at least thought well 
 of themselves and were satisfied with their doings. 
 
 " Maybe," said Loud Tom easily. " But you see, Zered 
 Tuby " 
 
 " Lieutenant, if you please ! " 
 
 " Well (as if humouring him). Master Lieutenant 
 Zered, an it please you, we have first to see Captain and 
 he will bear us out — with Colonel Cromwell ! " 
 
 "See the Captain — and why?" Zered almost barked 
 at them, so great was his exasperation. " What have you 
 to tell the Captain that you cannot tell me ? " 
 
 " To tell him — not much, but we have this to give 
 him," and from a capacious pocket Loud Tom produced 
 a dainty letter, written on fine Dutch paper, and folded 
 into the form known as a " Buckingham posy." It was 
 sealed in pale blue wax, and on the front appeared this 
 image and superscription: — 
 
 " To the Honourable Gentleman, Captain Henry Lud- 
 low, Present These. Haste, Post Haste! "
 
 128 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 The Lieutenant turned the dainty missive contumeli- 
 ously over in his hand, stirring it with his forefinger like 
 medicine in a glass. 
 
 "And where got ye the like of that?" he inquired 
 gruffly. He saw the best part O'f the inquiry escaping 
 out of his hands, and with all his heart he desired to 
 have a connected plan ready to lay before his chief when 
 he should awake. 
 
 " The Lady Molly gave it to us — I mean to Tobias 
 Mole, for 'twas he that passed her Captain's letter when 
 nobody was looking, and she stood by the gate of Rusty 
 Rook pasture watching us stropping our scythe-blades 
 time about with a Yorkshire hone. Yes, time about we 
 did it and it came to Tobias Mole's turn when she called 
 to him. 
 
 " ' Mind your blade, man. Why do you look at me all 
 the time instead of minding your business?'" 
 
 Tobias Mole keckled like a hen which has laid one 
 whole and undivided Qgg. 
 
 " I always were a great one to take notice o' women," 
 he admitted, shaking his head. 
 
 " Well, and what did you say, you giggling fool? " 
 
 The little black-a-vised Lieutenant was almost out of 
 hand now. 
 
 " Why, sur, I told her I could not keep my eyes off the 
 prettiest lady I had ever seen ! " 
 
 " Danged if he didn't," cried Loud Tom, thumping his 
 knee ; " said that, he did ! " 
 
 " Twelve pence ! " said the Lieutenant, glad to have 
 found a weapon ; " twelve pence for swearing ! " 
 
 " Oh, never fear but I will pay, Zered Tuby, as soon 
 as I have seen the Captain. He will give me more than 
 twelve pence for this dainty little package. But to the 
 tale — o' course we thought it 'twas all over with poor 
 Tobias, speaking so to a lady. But that only showed 
 what fools we were. She called him up to her and they 
 spoke together private-like for full ten minutes,"
 
 TOBIAS MOLE, EXPERT IN WOMEN 129 
 
 " Haw, lads, I knowed she would, bless her. I know 
 how to speak to womenfolk — always did. 'Tis a 
 gift!" 
 
 " So 'tis, and we slipped him Captain's letter to give to 
 her, seeing Tobias and she were such gossips ! " 
 
 " Aye, that we were, and she took the letter and put 
 it away careful in her bodice, without ever so much as 
 asking who it were from. 
 
 " Women are like that," pontified Tobias ; " they be 
 for ever expecting letters and valentines to fall into their 
 hands out of the sky." 
 
 " And how came the Captain to send a letter to the 
 chief of the enemy's forces, without saying anything 
 about it to me, his Lieutenant? " 
 
 The four men winked with such an air of superior 
 knowledge that Zered cried out, "If you want to get 
 your heads knocked together and to ride the wooden 
 horse an hour apiece, keep on as you are doing." 
 
 " Well, you see, Lieutenant," explained Loud Tom, 
 instantly losing something of his debonair assurance, 
 " us don't think that he wrote to the chief of the enemy, 
 as your honour says, but more as you might to your 
 sweetheart — always supposing that your honour had such 
 a thing." 
 
 " I beg you will leave me out of the matter altogether 
 — you and your sweethearts." 
 
 " Well, I dun know," said Loud Tom, " most of us has 
 to undergo our fate that way some time or other — and 
 some more than wonst ! But your honour knows best." 
 
 " Go on with your tale — do you understand that?" 
 
 The men saluted and paused for Loud Tom, who could 
 talk like an auctioneer, and was much admired because 
 he had never been known to be at a loss for a word. 
 
 " The Lady Molly she took a most remarkable liking to 
 Tobias Mole and " 
 
 " Always knowed how to talk to 'em all my life — al- 
 ways did and always will," murmured Tobias, not wish-
 
 130 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 ing to interrupt, but simply for his own satisfaction, 
 which was great at that moment. 
 
 " She bade him come back to the stile of the Rusty- 
 Rook pasture, that night come three. Mole he was there. 
 They talked full half an hour — aye, good — by a stopped 
 clock, as the saying is." 
 
 " Always knew what to say to 'em, always," repeated 
 Tobias Mole, combing his beard with his fingers ; " never 
 was a woman yet " 
 
 "What did she say?" Zered demanded hotly. "Tell 
 me without any more fool's talk. What care I about 
 your sweethearts and sweethearting? " 
 
 " About ours — ^nothing," said Mole judicially, consider- 
 ing the question, " but about Captain Hal's — I wager 
 you will think a good deal." 
 
 " Anything more to tell me ? " 
 
 " Only that the Lady Molly asked about Captain and 
 about her father " 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me that you were such fools 
 as to say that you belonged to Captain Ludlow's troop? 
 That you told her that you were Parliament soldiers ? " 
 
 " Us told her nothing. She did not need to be told. 
 Captain had put it all in his letter, and said as how 
 she could place the utmost confidence in us. Mole 
 there answered her questions, and spoke sometimes a 
 good lie, sometimes a good truth according to circum- 
 stances." 
 
 " Circumstances — 'tisn't no circumstances," said Mole ; 
 " 'tis knowing how to talk to 'em." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you fool," said Zered ; " she gave 
 you this letter and she came to the gate of Rusty Rook 
 pasture." 
 
 " 'Tisn't a gate — 'tis nobbut but a stile, Mr. Lieu- 
 tenant." 
 
 " And how far from the castle ? " 
 
 " A good half mile," said Loud Tom ; " but we could 
 do nothing, for there was one of them pottering little
 
 TOBIAS MOLE, EXPERT IN WOMEN 131 
 
 forts with a sentry going back and forth as regular as 
 pendulum stroke only a pistol-shot away." 
 
 The door opened and Captain Hal Ludlow, still blink- 
 ing from his sleep but with his head wonderfully clear 
 and recovered from the bullet which had dinted his hel- 
 met, came slowly in. 
 
 " What's all this ? " he asked sharply, looking from 
 one to the other till he had scanned each in turn. 
 
 Then Tobias Mole rose to his feet and as the man 
 who " knowed all about it always " presented the letter, 
 with the confidential bow of an expert in such matters.
 
 XIV 
 LADY MOLLY LEARNS TO SAY " PLEASE " 
 
 T 
 
 HE message began with a masterly disregard of in- 
 troduction or ornamental adjective which had char- 
 acterised his own. 
 
 " Hal (it ran), I have noways changed my mind about 
 you though I am now writing to you. Being surrounded 
 by loyal gentlemen devoted to me, I have constantly 
 before my eyes the opposites to your brutality. Never- 
 theless, to prove that I am in no wise afraid of you, Hal 
 Ludlow, I shall do as you say, and meet you at the stile 
 by which the road into Crow Wood passes out of the Red 
 Cow meadows — you know the place. On the night of 
 Wednesday at ten of the clock I shall be there. So much 
 I promise you, not because I care aught for you, but 
 because of the ancient ill-deserved, ill-requited favour my 
 father has shown you. If any treachery is intended, it 
 shall come from your side, and on your conscience be it. 
 
 " I know well that you are capable of any baseness 
 and that you have set spies upon me, which is well within 
 the character of Hal Ludlow. I know that gallant rebel 
 of yore, and make him my compliments upon the courage 
 which leads him to reserve his brutalities for women, 
 but carefully to abstain from attacking a castle garrisoned 
 by men. 
 
 " My remembrances to my brave Captain Crophead 
 and so no more from 
 
 "Molly Woodham." 
 
 Hal communicated a general idea of the contents to his 
 Lieutenant, who pouted out his under lip and mused. 
 
 132
 
 LADY MOLLY LEARNS TO SAY "PLEASE" 133 
 
 "If Lady Molly Woodham were in my rank of life and 
 sent me a letter like that, do you know what I should 
 conclude about the matter? " 
 
 " No," quoth Hal, " I do not, except that she was 
 exceedingly insolent and angry." 
 
 The little warrior passed his superior's interpretation 
 without a comment. Anything so commonplace was un- 
 worthy of his consideration. 
 
 " I should draw the conclusion tliat she was provoking 
 me of intention, and that she would not be at all sorry 
 to be carried ofif ! " 
 
 " Ah, Zered, you little know the Lady Molly when you 
 say so. She hates me — she has always hated me — and 
 told me so when last she saw me " 
 
 "Well, maybe so," said Lieutenant Tuby; " Gedney 
 and French Drove are not Danbury Towers and Wood- 
 ham Walter. Maybe they make the nature of women 
 different in such places. But when I was a younger man 
 and more given to paying attention to the frivolities of 
 maids, if Bess Merridew or Patience Talmash had sent 
 me such a scribble all written in her own hand, with 
 words crossed out and written over, I should have known 
 what to do." 
 
 " What would you have done ? " 
 
 " Nay," laughed the little man, " I have not passed 
 by all these follies and become a head-man in Zion to be 
 giving advice to young men what they should do. Let 
 their own hearts determine. But if it be Colonel Crom- 
 well's orders for us to capture and bring away this 
 spritely maiden, I do not think we shall need to trouble 
 about a gag for our prisoner. She will not cry out loud 
 enough to alarm anyone." 
 
 The night of Wednesday about ten of the clock saw 
 the entire Hog Lane Troop ranged in a wide demi-lune 
 about the woods of Rusty Crow, and only the path from
 
 134. HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 the castle left free. It was difficult to keep the horses 
 from tossing their heads and the accoutrements from 
 jingling, but the men managed it somehow. They 
 tethered their beasts to fir trees under which the three- 
 foot couch of dry needles gave no sound. They bandaged 
 the horses' eyes and sank soft noses into nose-bags, 
 cloaks were thrown over chargers' necks and stirrups 
 were caught up to prevent them clanking. Hog Lane, 
 secretly much amused at being called out to assist its 
 Captain's amours in full military array, grinned joyously 
 in the darkness. That is to say all the younger part of 
 the command did so. For the others the fact that it was 
 Colonel Cromwell's orders sufficed. Only Doe Royds, 
 fifth of the Boreham men, a strong sulky brute, tried to 
 spread a vague ill-feeling. But he lacked the delicacy of 
 touch requisite for military sedition. In fact he ran a 
 strong risk of being " buffed on the head " and pitched 
 into a ditch, a fate which would have saved considerable 
 trouble, but owing to the present good temper of the 
 company and their respect for brand-new regimentals, 
 such as he wore, the opportunity was lost. 
 
 The sense of life and adventure beat high in Hal Lud- 
 low, Captain of horse in Cromwell's new command. He 
 recalled somehow Queen Bess's words that England 
 would always be saved by her adventurers. He loved 
 England, or at least he thought so. At any rate, he 
 loved the adventure he was on — Crow Wood, high and 
 black overhead, the distant lights of the castle, and the 
 dewy path, which led through the waist-high meadow- 
 sweet and high brome grasses to the stile of the Red 
 Cow pasture. Would Molly bring an escort with her? 
 Would she come at all? Was it not rather a trap, and 
 would they not find themselves surrounded by the entire 
 garrison of the Towers and all the Brown Octobers whom 
 Rupert had not swept off in his company? 
 
 Hal waited and listened. It would be a strange love- 
 tryst, within reach of sixty pair of eyes had the night
 
 LADY MOLLY LEARNS TO SAY "PLEASE" 135 
 
 been lighter and, dark or light, of as many ears. Im- 
 mediately behind was his faithful Lieutenant, Zered Tuby, 
 who held Hereward ready to mount. But of all this 
 nothing appeared. The wind sighed among the tall 
 rookery trees. The birds awoke with sleepy squabblings 
 and dropped off again. Not the clink of a buckle or the 
 jingle of a spur came to his ear as he stood with one hand 
 laid lightly on the broad top of the Red Cow stile, waiting 
 for the arrival of the chatelaine of Danbury Towers, 
 presently in arms against the Parliament — but his own 
 little Molly Woodham just the same. 
 
 He was standing thus, every sense alert, when out of 
 the underbrush between him and Zered a slim figure 
 flitted. He heard the click of Zered's pistol as the dog 
 was pushed full cock. 
 
 The figure vanished again. Five minutes — ten minutes 
 passed and nothing happened. The strain was telling 
 upon Hog Lane and chiefly upon Hog Lane horses, which 
 did not understand the necessity of standing still so 
 long. 
 
 But at last Hal became conscious that someone was 
 approaching him by the path which leads across the tall 
 grass. He could hear the swish of skirts, and the fall of 
 hasty footsteps. A curlew, scared from her nest, flew 
 straight towards him, and then doubtless scared by the 
 semicircle of mounted men, soared suddenly higher and 
 disappeared with a shriek in the direction of the sea. 
 
 " Are you there, Hal Ludlow ? " cried the voice of 
 Molly Woodham, sounding quite unnecessarily loud; 
 " come and speak with me if you are not afraid. Ah, you 
 are there — how gallant a gentleman! Now you keep 
 your side of the stile and I shall keep mine. What have 
 you to say to me, now that I am here ? " 
 
 " I say that I love you, Molly," the Captain leaned across 
 and spoke low and earnestly. He was morbidly conscious 
 of more than fivescore male ears trained upon him, all 
 most anxious to know how he would acquit himself.
 
 136 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " I love you, and I cannot bear to leave you among a 
 pack of ribald squires and foreign runagates." 
 
 " I notice that you have carefully abstained from 
 attacking those whom you abuse," said the Lady Molly 
 loftily ; " you always were free with your tongue, Hal 
 Ludlow, but that proves nothing." 
 
 " We are coming to that, Molly. Basing will fall, and 
 the Towers will fall. The men who do the storming are 
 not tender-hearted at such times. They lose distinction. 
 I cannot expose you to the risks of a capture by as- 
 sault " 
 
 " You — you — and pray who are you to say you cannot 
 have this and you forbid that where I am concerned? 
 Why, my own father dared not " 
 
 " The more's the pity then, for I dare, Mistress Molly, 
 and I shall see to it that you obey me ! " 
 
 He leaned suddenly towards the slender cloaked figure 
 on the other side of the Red Cow stile. A long arm 
 gathered her up (by surprise or not, who shall decide?) 
 and in a moment Molly was lifted clear across into the 
 shelter of Rusty Crow wood. She heard the rustle of 
 horse trappings. Her cloak was wound about her arms 
 and head. Willing arms deposited her in before Hal 
 Ludlow, a sharp word of command, and through the 
 night, the troop of sixty Hog Laners took their road for 
 the county boundary. 
 
 " Be quiet for ten miles, Molly," said Hal Ludlow ; 
 " you have been a good girl so far and show your sense by 
 not crying out. We should only have to gag you and 
 tie your ankles. Wait till we get to Witham and you 
 shall have a horse of your own to ride." 
 
 " I am not complaining," said Lady Molly. " I never 
 knew that you were so much O'f a man before." 
 
 "Oh, very well, so be it," said Hal; "I am all the 
 man you shall need, little Molly. But do lean a little 
 back and keep your finger off my bridle-rein. Can't you 
 see Hereward does not like it?"
 
 LADY MOLLY LEARNS TO SAY "PLEASE" 137 
 
 " How can I see anything with this cloak about my 
 head?" 
 
 " Well, Molly, wait a little — there, you have more air 
 that way. You shall see everything in good time. I have 
 all I can do to keep Hereward up in this abominable wood. 
 I cannot see to avoid the fallen timber. There goes 
 someone over his horse's head with noise enough to 
 bring all the thieves in Essex upon us. Who is that 
 man? " 
 
 "Doe Royds, Captain!" 
 
 " I have a new mount, Captain," growled Royds, 
 gathering himself up ; " won't obey the bridle." 
 
 " What are you doing in front of the command? " Hal 
 snarled angrily. " Go to the rear and stop there." 
 
 Doe Royds had ranged himself as close as he could to 
 the Red Cow stile, so that he might hear the better. If 
 the Lady Molly ran for it and made good her escape, he 
 might chance to be able to give her a lift on his horse. 
 He would then decide whether there was most to be 
 gained by turning his horse's head back towards the 
 troop to deliver up his prisoner, or by riding in triumph 
 to the Towers as the chatelaine's deliverer. 
 
 Doe Royds believed in making each service pay its 
 own charges. He was a brute who thought himself 
 cunning, and had long got rid of any sentiments of honour 
 or sensibility. Left to himself, he would doubtless 
 have preferred to serve, if serve he must, under Rupert 
 or Maurice, because of the opportunities of rapine and 
 plunder there to be enjoyed unchecked, without Crom- 
 wellian articles of discipline. But in joining the Hog 
 Laners he had hardly been a free agent. He knew so 
 many oi the secrets of the Boreham Barns' men, that 
 with Loud Tom and his comrades it was a choice of 
 bringing him with them or putting a bullet in his head. 
 They were tender-hearted men and thought they were 
 doing him a service by compelling him to swear allegiance 
 to Colonel Cromwell and the Parliament. Neither re-
 
 138 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 ligion nor morals, neither honest feehng nor the possi- 
 bihty of honest action, had Doe Royds — only a great 
 brawny carcase given up to all lusts and appetites — a 
 most strange trooper to take his place in a troop of God- 
 fearing, devil-defying Anabaptists. One grace he had, 
 which at first covered everything else. He was no 
 coward. He could and would take blows with any man. 
 He rode undismayed in the charge, rejoicing in the 
 plunder which would be his, and the vinous and carnal 
 joys the sale of them would procure him in the slums of 
 the first garrison town. 
 
 At Great Withani a pony was procured for the Lady 
 Molly. The saddle was old and small, but she mounted 
 with alacrity. Behind her Zered Tuby smiled sardoni- 
 cally. 
 
 "What did I tell you?" he whispered to his Captain. 
 " She is happy to be rid of them. Blood will tell. The 
 wind was contrary and lo ! off she went in a fluff of flame 
 like a dry whin bush when a match is set to it." 
 
 The Lady Molly would gladly have ridden alongside of 
 Hal Ludlow all the way. But as they were not yet out 
 of the zone of danger, it was judged best to keep her in 
 the middle of the troop under care of Lieutenant Zered 
 and the big ex-oversman of Boreham, Tom Christo- 
 pher. 
 
 Molly's temper, serene in the moment of capture, 
 flashed out at this indignity. 
 
 " Do you think that I would try to escape?" 
 
 " Ye might, my lady." 
 
 " And if I give you my word, and solemn promise ? " 
 
 " Ye might change your mind, my lady ! " 
 
 Zered Tuby's responses came prompt as " Amen " in 
 a church. 
 
 Lady Molly spurred her pony to force a way through 
 the ranks, but solid Hog Lane kept a wall of horse-flesh 
 all about her, and her bridle-rein was seized by Zered 
 Tuby. Then little Molly Woodham gave way. Her face
 
 LADY MOLLY LEARNS TO SAY "PLEASE" 139 
 
 flushed with anger. Her ears grew pink. She looked at 
 Zered with assassinating eyes. " Mighty pretty she did 
 look," affirmed that cool warrior afterwards, " all in a 
 storm, within five seconds. War, fury, and inky-black- 
 ness, lightning and thunder-crash and rattle-bang about 
 a man's ears — then all over and packed away till the 
 next time in the inside of five minutes. That's the 
 woman she is. No duck-ponds for me ! " 
 
 " Hal, they are laying hands upon me — come and 
 help ! " she cried to Captain Ludlow, whose helmet 
 plume she could see stolidly rising and dipping in the 
 front of the array. 
 
 " Nor she don't stick at a good whopping lie," medi- 
 tated Zered, without letting go. " Why, nobody has set 
 a finger on her. 'Pony frisky!'" he explained to his 
 Captain, when the latter wheeled to know what was the 
 matter. " Might have run away with the lady — had her 
 halfway back to the Towers by this time, but for Zered's 
 carefulness ! " 
 
 His irony angered Lady Molly. 
 
 " Ride by me, Captain Ludlow," she commanded 
 haughtily. " I am not used to such freedom from under- 
 lings." 
 
 Hal looked awkward, for such a word could hardly be 
 applied to the man to whom he owed the incorporation 
 of the Hog Lane Troop. But Zered, over the angry little 
 shoulder of his enemy, winked appreciatively. 
 
 " If it be your will, Captain, I can lead the troop. 
 The country is more open here, and there is less danger 
 of that restive pony giving us the slip." 
 
 And Zered rode his charger towards the head of the 
 column. 
 
 " He is very insolent, that little man with the black 
 curls," said Lady Molly, tossing her head ; " he spoke 
 familiarly to me, and snatched at my horse's bridle! 
 Why not get rid of him? " 
 
 " His ways are not ours," said Hal soothingly, " but
 
 140 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 he is a good and faithful soldier and a great admirer of 
 yours ! " 
 
 " Admirer — an insolent psalm-singer ! " 
 
 " There are worse things than psalms, when one knows 
 how to lead them to a good tune." 
 
 Captain Hal took a soothing tone. He had no desire 
 to quarrel with free-spoken Molly Woodham within 
 hearing of Hog Lane. So, like many another man, he 
 temporised, till he could with safety resume his natural 
 manner. 
 
 "Whither are you taking me?" she demanded sud- 
 denly. " This is not the way to my father's house. He 
 is in London." 
 
 " No," said Hal lightly, " the road to London is far 
 from safe, and besides, you had so lately left your father's 
 house against his will that — I judged you might not care 
 to be taken back so soon." 
 
 " Taken back — you speak as if I were a child in dis- 
 grace — to be whipped and sent supperless to bed ! " 
 
 " If you had chanced to be my daughter," said Hal 
 smoothly, " that is precisely how I should have looked 
 at the matter." 
 
 " Tell me where, Hal — not to prison?" 
 
 Lady Molly's voice grew pleading as it was wont to 
 do when, in the days of Woodland play, Hal Ludlow had 
 lifted her into the high crotch of a tree or upon the top 
 of a wall. 
 
 " Let me down, Hal — I will say ' Please.' " 
 
 And now Lady Molly, grown to be a woman, was 
 learning to say " Please " in earnest.
 
 XV 
 
 THE LEAGUER OF TRUMPINGTON 
 
 THAT night they stopped at the mill of Trumping- 
 ton, a little way from Cambridge. There the 
 troop lay that night, uncomfortably enough, but 
 Hal did not wish to venture on into the town, where his 
 prisoner would be less easily guarded than in the coun- 
 try. His mind was set upon carrying her straight to Ely, 
 to put her under the powerful protection of his father and 
 Colonel Cromwell. 
 
 The best chamber of the miller's house was made ready 
 for her service, and there she and Captain Hal supped 
 together, with Lieutenant Zered going out and in, super- 
 intending, not (as he was careful to explain) from any 
 desire to play Miss Priscilla Precise of Nag Street, but 
 for the sake of the troop. 
 
 " Tut, Zered," said Hal, " go and put them to bed, if 
 they are such particular young ladies." 
 
 " It is not the young ladies I am thinking of," said 
 Zered, " but the Hog Lane old maids, of whom the chief 
 is named Zachary Elsegood." 
 
 In Molly Woodham's mind a little scheme was hatch- 
 ing. She had certainly had as good a run for her money 
 as any girl in London — the daughter of a Parliament Lord 
 holding a castle for the King, levying war and leading 
 forays. That was something worth doing and she had 
 done it. But now it was over, and she could not hide 
 from herself that she had had quite enough of it. Be- 
 sides, she had let herself be trapped almost too easily. 
 She would put a little spoke into Master Hal's wheel. He 
 
 141
 
 142 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 was getting to think himself all too clever. A little 
 cutting of cockscombs would be good for him. 
 
 So Molly resolved to escape, to take the first horse she 
 could lay hands upon. They were stabled quite near. 
 She could hear them tossing their heads and rattling 
 their head stalls. She would ride off astride and bare- 
 back, but she would escape, if only to prove that she 
 could. If, as she hoped, she was retaken — well, there 
 was no dishonour in that, with a whole troop of Colonel 
 Cromwell's New Model horsemen launched in pursuit. 
 
 It was twelve of the clock. The chimes of Cambridge 
 came faint and sweet through the still night air. The 
 Lady Molly drew her cloak about her and approached 
 the door. She turned the handle carefully. She heard 
 the latch rise and the way was open. How they had 
 trusted her ! They had not even locked her in. But as 
 she moved forward to go down the stairs which led to the 
 kitchen door, she touched something hard like a rim or 
 rail which, however, gave a little under her hand. She 
 pushed a little more strongly and immediately brought 
 Captain Henry Ludlow to his feet, asking if he could be 
 of any use to her. She went in without a word and 
 slammed the door, bolting it viciously at top and bottom. 
 The shameless traitor had placed four oak chairs with 
 their backs to her bedroom door and laid himself down 
 upon them — "just as if I were not to be trusted! " she 
 said. 
 
 Well, she would show him, she would wait another 
 hour and try the window. She sat on the edge of her 
 bed and being wearied, kept awake with difficulty. At 
 times she dozed, swaying forward, and bringing herself 
 up with a jerk. She seemed to have slept hours. The 
 dawn would soon be coming — so she stood up, and with 
 some silent temper discovered that her right foot had 
 gone to sleep in earnest. When she had patted and fric- 
 tioned it into wakefulness, she crossed to the window, 
 walking uncertainly because of the pins-and-needles
 
 THE LEAGUER OF TRUMPINGTON 143*^ 
 
 which succeed such localised slumbers. Over the irregu- 
 lar mill building the stars were glittering. It was still 
 deep night. She was in time. Hope flattered her heart. 
 She opened the window cautiously and looked out. A 
 man in a steel helmet with white plumes stood directly 
 underneath. She could see the dull glint of light on his 
 musket barrel, and the broad luminosity of the shining 
 breastplate. 
 
 " A good night to you, my lady," said Lieutenant 
 Zered Tuby, in his calmest manner, " but the river fog 
 is treacherous on the marshes. If I were you I should 
 shut the window and go prettily to sleep." 
 
 The window was shut instantly, and the Lieutenant 
 chuckled. Molly was so offended by the mistrust of 
 these men that she resolved out of revenge not to sleep a 
 wink that night. That would show them. She took off 
 her riding habit, tossed abroad her hair and lay down, 
 resolved to spend the night brooding upon her wrongs. 
 
 And no one who knows what such wrongs are at 
 twenty years of age will be surprised to learn that the 
 Lady Molly Woodham was fast asleep in two minutes 
 of the clock. 
 
 Next morning the little lady's temper was no better, 
 but contrariwise if anything a little worse. 
 
 "How can I ride a brute like that?" she declared as 
 she looked at the pony being saddled in the mill yard, 
 " bow-legged, hunchbacked, and goes like a caterpillar." 
 
 " I had thought of that, Molly," said Captain Hal, 
 '*' so from the stables of the ' Royal Charles ' I procured 
 a pretty mare of good Arab blood which once belonged 
 to my Lord Buckingham." 
 
 " I will ride none of your hired horses ! What, go to 
 Ely like a travelling packman — I would rather walk ! " 
 
 To this Hal made no answer. Though he had an 
 answer ready, this was not the time to give it air.
 
 144 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " I will not ride at all. I will ride in a coach, like my 
 Lord Essex. Send and order one." 
 
 " You would not like it, Molly — believe me the roads 
 across the fens are far from good. Six horses could not 
 get you through All Hallow Marsh. The carrier's ordi- 
 nary went in a month ago and is sticking there yet." 
 
 "Can I have nothing I want? I shall complain to 
 Colonel Cromwell how you have used me. For shame, 
 Hal! Think how we used to run the wood, you and I, 
 listening to the moor birds " 
 
 " If you listen now you will hear them, and riding 
 with me all day, sufficiently far ahead of the clamour of 
 the troop, we shall be alone in the midst of them. The 
 fen is populous with them ! " 
 
 " The birds weary me. I will not be deafened with 
 their foolish noise, as I am with your talk. 'Tis enough 
 to drive one mad ! " 
 
 " My dear," said Hal tolerantly, " you have slept ill. 
 To-morrow you will feel better. Soldiers' quarters, you 
 know — we shall lodge you differently to-night." 
 
 " Hal Ludlow, I shall not move an inch — either on 
 your borrowed horse or in a coach. I order you to send 
 me back to Danbury where men are men." 
 
 Hal took the big cloak which had enwrapped her on 
 the edge of Red Cow pasture. He cast it about her with 
 a cunning swirl, pulled it over her head and swung her 
 up in his arms. 
 
 " Now, madam," he said, " it is all the same to me if 
 you prefer to go to Ely City wrapped about like a cocoon 
 on my saddle-bow. Only make up your mind, my little 
 lady." 
 
 He was half down the stairs with his burden on his 
 shoulder when the spirit of the old Molly Woodham re- 
 turned upon her, and she pled with him as from the 
 crotch of the high tree, " Oh, Hal, do let me down, I will 
 say ' Please.' "
 
 THE LEAGUER OF TRUMPINGTON 145 
 
 It was an hour after Colonel Cromwell's return from 
 the North after making an end of the Cavendish forayers 
 and their chief for ever, that Hog Lane made its second 
 entry into the Ely of steep gables, red roofs, and creamy 
 whitewash. 
 
 They were now no longer the scattering crowd of 
 irregular horsemen which had brought in Dick Lucy from 
 Gedney Hill. Hard bitten, close ranked, looking straight 
 before them they passed up the street, their arms shining 
 and their red coats, pride of the New Model men, well 
 adjusted about them. 
 
 Captain Ludlow rode at their head with a wonderfully 
 handsome girl at his side — no other (so ran the whisper) 
 than the famous Lady Molly Woodham, Lord Woodham 
 Walter's wayward daughter — she who had ridden with 
 Rupert and held Danbury Towers for the King. 
 
 Some said that Hal Ludlow, their own little Hal, 
 whose pranks and mischief were still a winter night's 
 talk about Ely firesides, had with bow and spear taken 
 the castle and its chatelaine. Others, and these were 
 more numerous and mostly of the female sex, would have 
 it that she had followed him for love. He had held up 
 his finger and lo ! " O'er moss and moor she followed 
 him." 
 
 It may easily be seen that the second was the favourite 
 theory in the Calvinistic City, for Calvinism always 
 induces much sentiment among its women and young 
 men. For all things produce their contraries, and even 
 down to mid- Victorian times, Defoe's " Religious Court- 
 ship " and Dr. Brown's " Blessed State of Matrimony " 
 were reprinted and distributed in neat little keepsake 
 editions with vignettes in red and blue, surrounded with 
 wreaths of gilt roses (I have even seen a bevy of blue 
 cupids each as bare as my hand) engarlanding a page 
 about affinities or the choice of a partner in life. Ah, 
 Mr. Daniel Foe was deeply versed in the ways of the 
 human heart when he edited those two hundred pages of
 
 146 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 commonplace reflections and called them " Religious 
 Courtship." The title was a guarantee of immortality, 
 for the book passes current to-day, unread but not un- 
 bought, especially in certain corners of the Celtic fringe 
 where grave men with long beards enforce the law and 
 the prophets. 
 
 At any rate, the theory that the Lady Molly had come 
 at the crook of Captain Hal's finger hurt nothing of his 
 popularity. Nay, an indefinite number of well-doing and 
 highly respectable young women felt as they looked after 
 his plumed helmet that they would most gladly have 
 done the same. 
 
 The cavalcade turned sharply to the left at the head 
 of the market square, and the next moment they were 
 defiling two by two into the great empty yard of the 
 Tithing House. 
 
 " Where are you taking me, Hal ? " 
 
 " To a family where you will find a mother . . . and 
 sisters, fine spirited girls who will love you, and half a 
 dozen soldier brothers, coming and going at all times." 
 
 " Whose house is this ? " Molly demanded, suddenly 
 afraid. "This is not a prison?" 
 
 She was alarmed at the air of silence and ordered quiet 
 which impressed most people making their first ac- 
 quaintance with the official side of the Cromwell mansion. 
 Hal laughed aloud and glanced up at the windows. 
 
 " Look," he whispered, and turning her face as he 
 indicated, Lady Molly saw the smiling faces of Dame 
 Elizabeth, of Bridget and Bess making signals of welcome 
 with their white kerchiefs, and higher up Henry Crom- 
 well, with a tousled head looking out of a garret window, 
 brush and towel in hand. 
 
 " Hold hard, Hal," he cried, " I will be down in the 
 crack of a pistol." 
 
 " If it be a gaol, you will admit that the prisoners seem 
 fairly content." 
 
 " Yes," said Molly anxiously, " but who are they ? "
 
 THE LEAGUER OF TRUMPINGTON 147 
 
 The question was soon answered. On the top step 
 appeared the tall stern figure which already was the 
 best known in all the Eastern Counties, as it was soon to 
 be throughout the three kingdoms. 
 
 Him Hog Lane saluted with swiftly bared blade, and 
 at the sight of the lady the tall man came down, moving 
 with a certain calm stateliness to greet her. He did not 
 need to be told that Hal Ludlow with Hog Lane at his 
 back had fulfilled his mission. 
 
 He bared his head before the girl and courteously 
 assisted her to dismount. 
 
 " The Lady Molly Woodham ? " he said deferentially. 
 
 " I am Lord Woodham Walter's daughter," answered 
 Molly a little uncertainly, for she knew not what re- 
 ception her escapade might receive from the grim man 
 before her. She would have been more alarmed but for 
 a tag of blue ribbon which had been pinned to his hair, 
 and of which he was obviously unconscious. (He had, in 
 fact, been playing in the Sundial Court with Mall and 
 the Baby when the sound of hoofs caught his ear.) 
 
 " I am Colonel Oliver Cromwell," he said, " your 
 father's friend — and for his sake, Miss Molly, you 
 must allow me to be yours also. I am counted a rude 
 man, and little given to idle words, but you will find 
 deeds very much in my way." 
 
 He led the way up the steps, taking Lady Molly's hand 
 with more of old-fashioned courtesy than was used by 
 the young rakes who diced and fought in the train of 
 Rupert and Maurice. 
 
 " Dame, Dame, where art thou, Lizzy ? " he called 
 out as soon as he was within the hall, and out from 
 the parlour came Dame Elizabeth Cromwell, always 
 pleasantly maternal. She had hardly welcomed Molly 
 when a rush from above, a pounding of footsteps which 
 took the ancient staircase six at a time, announced a new 
 arrival. 
 
 " My wretches ! " said Cromwell, with a wave of his
 
 148 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 hand by way of introduction, " Bridget, Bess, Mary, and 
 Baby — I am astonished at your behaviour. Take ex- 
 ample by your mother, you never saw her sHde down 
 the banisters." 
 
 " No," answered pert Bess Cromwell, " but grand- 
 mother says she did right from the top to the bottom 
 without once touching, which not even the boys can do, 
 and the mark across the bridge of her nose comes from 
 falling into the staircase well and cutting herself on the 
 tin mug she was carrying." 
 
 " That will do, Bess. My dear heart, I leave our 
 guest to your care. She has had a long journey and needs 
 rest. I have some business to transact with this gentle- 
 man — so send Harry to the ofifice immediately. I know 
 he is in his room. This way. Captain Ludlow. Dismiss 
 your troop. We may be some time detained. Lady 
 Mary, my best salutations ! " 
 
 " A wonderful man," thought Hal. " He never men- 
 tioned a word about levying war and receiving raiders. 
 Yet if she had had a brother he would have been swing- 
 ing by this time from the joists of the Tithe Barn. 
 Colonel Cromwell does not jest with such things as the 
 succour and entertainment of enemies within the seven 
 Associated Counties." 
 
 Harry Cromwell came hurrying in, his boyish face 
 still bright with the towel friction, and his hair sleek and 
 undried. 
 
 " Take a note, Harry," commanded his father, " I 
 shall have something to report to the war commission, 
 and still more and better news to give my Lord Woodham 
 Walter than he has been looking for." 
 
 After he had heard Hal's story he sat silent awhile, 
 thinking deeply. 
 
 " You are the better soldier than I, Captain," he said, 
 " you have come back having done your commission 
 without the loss of a man. But we also have shown our 
 mettle. We caught the Candishers as they were making
 
 THE LEAGUER OF TRUMPINGTON 149 
 
 off and rode them down man to man. They had barely 
 time to fire their huts before we were upon them. But 
 we lost four good men, and many wounded." 
 
 Harry Cromwell broke in. 
 
 " But the Lincoln men who have not our model and 
 drill fled by companies and Newcastle's horse rode them 
 down. Then my father with three troops only charged 
 the rear of the pursuit, drove the enemy down the hill, 
 and broke to pieces the reserve when Captain-Lieutenant 
 Berry killed Charles Cavendish with a thrust in the short 
 ribs." 
 
 " I would that I had been there," mourned Hal, with a 
 sigh of regret. 
 
 " Nonsense," said Cromwell, " you young men think 
 there is nothing in making war beyond charging the 
 enemy. I tell you, sir, you did as much good by obeying 
 orders. The fine gentlemen at the Towers will soon 
 scatter, or if old Septimus Hepburn holds a few together 
 behind his Dutch dykes, we will send down a score of 
 my Lord Fairfax's loud-tongued persuaders to talk with 
 him." 
 
 ' " I would that I were at the taking — I have several 
 men who know the country well." 
 
 " I daresay, Captain Hal," said Cromwell drily, " but 
 I have other work for you to do. We were a little too 
 closely pinched with only six squadrons. The sight of 
 Hog Lane and its Captain on my right flank would have 
 been blithe and profitable to me as we put our horses 
 to the pace down the slope."
 
 XVI 
 A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS 
 
 COLONEL CROMWELL heard Hal's narrative 
 with an attention at once serene and balanced. 
 The house of Danbury Towers, deprived of its 
 figure-head, would give no more anxiety. The gay young 
 sparks would ride ofif Oxford-wards. The Brown 
 October Squires would think that they had done enough, 
 and so not unthankfully take their ways back to their 
 halls and granges in Norfolk. In short, the defence 
 would fall to pieces. And if not — why, so much the 
 worse for those who should remain. Most important of 
 all, my Lord Woodham Walter would be spared any 
 painful family scandal. 
 
 Oliver bent his brows suddenly upon his young cap- 
 tains. " Now, Harry, and you, Hal Ludlow — remember, 
 I will have no shaking of lovelocks and twirling of 
 moustaches among my officers on account of the lady." 
 
 "No fear, father," said his son, laughing; "we all 
 know she is Hal Ludlow's prize — legal capture, cut out 
 fairly under the guns of the enemy ! " 
 
 " I have seen occasions, Harry, when you were not 
 quite so wise. But remember what I say, I will have no 
 black blood or promiscuous brawling in my camp. Your 
 swords are to be exercised upon the skullcaps of the 
 enemy, and if I catch one of you vapouring and pom- 
 posing for any cause whatever, he shall be expelled my 
 command so quickly, that he shall not know in what 
 direction he is travelling! Let this be known, you two 
 Hals — warn the lieutenants as well, that if they quarrel 
 with anybody it shall be with me." 
 
 150
 
 A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS 151 
 
 " I assure you, sir," said Harry Cromwell, " there 
 is not the least intention " His father cut him short. 
 
 " So much the better, son Harry," he said. " I am 
 understood — see to it that I am obeyed." 
 
 When he was gone and the young men were left alone 
 they looked at each other at first soberly but, after a 
 little, smilingly. Then Hal Ludlow took Harry Cromwell 
 by the arm and they strolled up and down the wide 
 emptiness of the Tithe House yard as they had been wont 
 to do in the school playing fields. Perhaps the thought 
 of the open windows of the Tithe House parlours and 
 bedrooms was not quite absent from the minds of these 
 two young Puritans — Puritans indeed, but young men 
 withal and of as gallant a spirit as any Danby or Stanley 
 in all the King's muster. 
 
 Since Hal Ludlow had been made a captain like him- 
 self, Harry Cromwell had regained all his old loyalty to 
 their ancient friendship. It is difficult to exercise due 
 military discipline over a comrade who a few months 
 before cheerfully rubbed your nose in the mud ! Harry 
 Cromwell was not in the least jealous of Hal Ludlow. 
 On the contrary, it was natural to resume allegiance 
 to one who had always been his mentor and model, who 
 was two years older than himself, and who in spite of 
 " petticoating " and absenting himself without leave was 
 still his oldest and dearest friend. 
 
 What they talked about is no great matter. After an 
 hour or two they could not have told themselves. They 
 were, indeed, both of them marking time and waiting for 
 the call to supper. 
 
 But they were disappointed, neither Lady Molly nor 
 Bess Cromwell appeared, and the good motherly Dame, 
 after she had served her end of the table, heaped a silver 
 tray and carried it upstairs with her own hands. It was 
 clear that the Lady Molly had been packed off to bed, 
 and that there she was being duly " mothered " by a 
 woman of much experience. Which would be a thing
 
 152 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 new and strange to the girl reared without family re- 
 straint, except that of going occasionally to her father to 
 ask for money. 
 
 Supper was eaten in unwonted silence. The head of 
 the house, after a brief word of greeting, sat moodily 
 abstracted at the table-head. Good Dame Cromwell, in- 
 deed, bustled out and in. But Bridget, unbacked by her 
 lively sister, kept a discreet silence, and the two young 
 men seated side by side spoke low one to the other. 
 
 When Hal went forth into the night with Oliver's 
 voice, lately uplifted in family devotion, still in his ears, 
 he remarked, high above the court of the Tithe House, 
 two windows glowing athwart the darkness. Shadows 
 moved across and across, and through an open casement 
 trilled a burst of gay laughter. Hal smiled sympatheti- 
 cally. He wished he had been there to join the mirth. 
 Very likely they were laughing at him. But if so, it made 
 no matter to Hal Ludlow, He was troubled with none 
 of that super-sensitiveness which cannot bear to be 
 laughed at. He knew that men did not laugh at him, and 
 had a shrewd idea that in such matters women are much 
 influenced by men's opinion. 
 
 He strolled slowly towards the Intendance, to which 
 were consigned for the night the horses and cavaliers of 
 the Hog Lane Troop. Hal Ludlow was not so absorb- 
 ingly in love with Lady Molly that he could think of 
 nothing else. He had known her all his life, and in a 
 certain way had always been in love with her — not to the 
 extent of telling her so in set phrases, but only to that of 
 immediate belligerence and personal attack upon any of 
 his own sex who seemed inclined to infringe his rights of 
 property. 
 
 So it was rather of the coming campaign in Lincoln- 
 shire that he was thinking, of riding side by side with his 
 old friends of the Slepe Troop, of the council of the Cap- 
 tains where now he would have a place, and of the 
 thousand Ironsides coming down upon the enemy swift
 
 A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS 153 
 
 and resistless — with the great Cromwellian shout, " The 
 Sword of the Lord ! " clearing the way before them. 
 
 He became conscious of something darker than the 
 night which flitted in front, seen so vaguely that had he 
 not been a man well armed and fearless by nature, he 
 might have suspected some lurking assassin. 
 
 But when he came out into the open square opposite 
 to his father's official residence, he saw that the figure was 
 that of the gipsy girl who had so strangely crossed his 
 path more than once. 
 
 " Neiia — Neiia la Fain," he called out, and she an- 
 swered to her name as a dog to its master. 
 
 " What is the matter? " he asked of her kindly, for he 
 felt that the girl instinctively shrank from his eye. So as 
 his manner was with women when he wished them to 
 obey, he laid his strong hand upon her shoulder and 
 wheeled her directly in front of him. His motto was, 
 " For women older than yourself, all the forms and rever- 
 ences, but as for the girls, lead them tambours hattants 
 — drums beating and colours flying." Which was very 
 well for Captain Hal Ludlow in his dealings with his 
 ancient playmate, Molly Woodham, but he had yet to 
 learn that his experience with one did not suffice for a 
 knowledge of all. But as yet Master Hal was young, 
 forceful, and remarkably arrogant in his dealings with 
 women. And there is no need to hide the fact that 
 his theory, such as it was, had served him well so 
 far. 
 
 Nefia la Fain trembled under the weight of his hand. 
 She felt the warmth of his fingers through her thin dress. 
 
 " Captain," she said, " I would not have troubled you 
 for myself, but Jacques the Wassailer lies dying on the 
 Isle Jatte for want of a doctor, and the first I went to 
 pushed me from his door, cursing my impudence and 
 threatening me with the watch." 
 
 " Ah, who was he ? " demanded Hal, kindling not a 
 little. The maid was as nothing under his hand and her
 
 154 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 eyes shone darkly. She seemed so helpless that she 
 appealed to hun, but the next words disabused him. 
 
 " I should have put my knife into him if he had been 
 worth the trouble, but then I might have seen the inside 
 of the guardhouse in earnest, and the Wassailer would 
 die without a physician. So I thought of you — that you 
 would surely know someone. There is a medicine — 
 Jacques says, but it is very precious, but I have brought 
 six golden plovers and half a Jacobus in gold to pay 
 for it." 
 
 Hal Ludlow knew the Isle Jatte. He had lain long 
 nights in a ducking boat on its desolate borders and 
 hidden himself to watch decoys along its winding creeks. 
 It was a long road and to come and go would take the 
 better part of the night. There was no one whom he 
 could ask except — why, of course, their second regi- 
 mental surgeon, Roy Lorraine, just returned from his 
 laureation at the Paris school of medicine. Lorraine 
 lodged in the Cathedral Close, and thither, with a brief 
 summons to the girl to follow him discreetly, Hal betook 
 himself. 
 
 Go? Of course he would go if the girl could find the 
 way. What did Hal Ludlow take him for? He was a 
 surgeon, not an old wife. 
 
 And Lorraine fired questions at the girl from his 
 window as she stood below in the darkness, dressing him- 
 self and gathering information all the time. Jacques 
 Wassailer was hot — yes, very hot, and shook. (" Of 
 course he would shake living on Isle Jatte ! ") But it was 
 not just chills or ague — something worse. Oh, his skin 
 was the colour of orange peel, was it? And, of course, 
 the medicine he wanted was Jesuit's bark from Peru. 
 He had not much of that. It cost dear, but Hal would 
 go and rout out Samuel Tilling, the herbalist. He had 
 always a great supply, and though he was a noisome 
 tick, he would give credit to the son of the Commissioner 
 of Parliament. Lorraine himself had not credit for three
 
 A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS 166 
 
 clipped farthings! How should he, on a bare shilling a 
 day, and that mostly unpaid? 
 
 So Hal went off well pleased through the silent streets. 
 Ely in the moonless night was like an enchanted city, 
 not a heel on the pavements, not a light in a window, but 
 from the end of one alley which looked upon the open 
 country, far out on the marsh the ghostly flicker of some 
 Will-o'-the-Wisp. The houses with their upshooting 
 gables and beehive-topped staircases, the shutters 
 tightly closed against the night air, took strange forms 
 overhead, enormous and sepulchral, like a town stricken 
 dead in a moment by some black death. 
 
 Hal, who had a reminiscence of Shakespeare upon him, 
 called loudly, " Ho, apothecary ! " And the sound of his 
 voice came back sharply from the walls of the dark 
 houses behind. Through the gap of a window-shutter 
 protruded the wavering bell-mouth of a ducking gun. 
 
 " Go away from there, brawling play-actors," called 
 out the man of drugs from his chamber-window. 
 " Shake not my door, neither rattle the rasping-pin, or a 
 charge of good shot shall you have." 
 
 " Come down, you old thief," cried Hal; " think shame 
 of yourself, Samuel, to lie like that. Your old blunder- 
 buss has not smelt powder for forty years." 
 
 " I should loiow that voice, my young friend," creaked 
 the voice above ; " if you be a young gallant seeking his 
 mercurial potion at this hour, I would have you know 
 that I charge double after eleven of the clock " 
 
 " Let me but get my fingers about your wizened 
 thrapple, old weasel of the dyke, serpent's egg, frog's 
 spawn, I'll give you something worse than a filthy potion. 
 I am Captain Harry Ludlow, the Commissioner's son, and 
 if you are not down in one minute I swear by my sword- 
 hilt I will have you set in the stocks and pelted by the 
 mob!" 
 
 " I come — I come ! " 
 
 And apothecary Samuel Tilling of Dorcas Alley came
 
 156 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 with such haste that his greasy flannel dressing-gown 
 was closed only by the waist-cord, and his ropy, twisted 
 throat, waggling beard, and stork's legs flitted and shifted 
 in the light of the unsteady lantern which he held above 
 his head that he might see the features of his visitor. 
 
 " The Jesuit's bark, Captain," he wheezed ; " pray 
 come inside — that is very rare and very precious, as 
 doubtless your Honour knows. But I ask nothing better 
 than your Honour's signature — a note of hand as it were 
 — fifty silver pieces will buy a small quantity, on account 
 of its rarity, but you shall have it, Captain, because of 
 the respect I owe to you, and to your most worthy 
 father." 
 
 " Keep the rest of your words, Father Samuel, as one 
 might say vulgarly, for the cooling of your porridge. I 
 shall pay army prices in cash for the bark. Pa)anaster 
 Sam Squire shall tax the amount and if it be charged too 
 high, I promise you a sore back and a promenade at the 
 cart tail through the town." 
 
 The bark, with a double handful added by Hal for 
 luck, was weighed and carefully done into a package for 
 transport, and the apothecary in his perilous dressing- 
 gown of -dirty yellow accompanied them to the door, 
 where he stood bowing over his smoky lantern. The 
 night air tasted keen and sweet as they emerged from 
 the musty atmosphere of powdered spices and desiccated 
 bitumen which pervaded the apothecary's den. 
 
 Roy Lorraine was waiting for them at the door. 
 
 " You have the bark — how much ? — why, you must 
 have robbed the old man. How disgraceful, but when 
 were soldiers other than plunderers ? " 
 
 " Come on, man," said Hal, " since when have Scots- 
 men and Scots doctors been so particular? We must 
 tramp to the boat." 
 
 Neiia had at first her hand firmly clasped about Hal's 
 fingers, and seemed to drag him after her, but as soon as 
 she had made quite sure that both men were coming, she
 
 A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS 157 
 
 loosened her grasp and sped ahead into the rank grass of 
 the water meadows. Her well-accustomed feet made no 
 sound, but the two men tramped like bullocks, and in so 
 doing awakened the creatures of the fen. A great heron 
 flapped clumsily up, from where he had been standing 
 sentinel on one leg, a huddled and consumptive shadow 
 against the grey water. Goat-suckers smote their great 
 white wings together as they struck into the alder bushes 
 where the pale fat moths congregate. Lapwings started 
 up at the sound of footsteps and circled clamourously. 
 The peewit sleeps more lightly than any other fen bird 
 and is more suspicious and persistent. It startles all the 
 others and sets them running. A hare rushed by and then 
 another, and the white scuts of the rabbit lolloped by 
 dozens into the dusk and are lost even before they have 
 time to pass. The sedge warbler begins his imitations — 
 the blackbird's flute followed by the triple triumph of 
 the thrush's carol, " Hear me — hear me! Hear! Hear! 
 Hear ! " Then came the robin, the chaffinch, and the 
 tit, all marvellously imitated, but all the work of one 
 small mimic on the willow branch, the mocking bird of 
 the fens. 
 
 The night about them was far less silent than in the 
 sleeping city. In the water meadow ahead of them 
 towards the Isle Jatte a crake told its name monotonously, 
 and from among the bent grass, the white prickles, and 
 the short buU's-wool heath, came the dry whirr of the 
 grasshopper warbler. Halt! That rustle among the 
 withies may be an adder or a concealed " Candisher " 
 making his way towards the marsh smugglers from whom 
 he hopes to beg or buy a passage to Holland. Three 
 heads peered eagerly between the tail bullrushes, thick 
 as a cranebrake. Something long and sinuous oared its 
 way through the black water. The snake-like head 
 was that of an otter, and the fish warned too late, fled to 
 their pool depths with the loss of the plumpest patriarch 
 of their number.
 
 158 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Twenty yards farther on, in a little covert of broom 
 cunningly arranged, Nena la Fain showed them the boat. 
 The doctor crouched in the stern, but Hal took an oar 
 along with the girl. He placed himself under her orders. 
 
 " Straight out till we reach Stand-ground Creek," she 
 said, speaking low as if still among enemies ; " we can 
 pole all the way. The pass is narrow, but then we can 
 put about and row to Isle Jatte. We shall be in time for 
 the tide. It comes to the flood about one o'clock and 
 the geese float up and guzzle among the grass on the edge 
 of the flat. Then I should have something for the doctor 
 to carry home." 
 
 " Do not trouble about the doctor — he is my friend 
 and therefore yours ! " said Hal, fending off the scrubbly 
 bushes of the canal with the butt of his oar. Nena was 
 silent. It was pleasant thus to be assured of his friend- 
 ship, yet in his voice her quick ear told her there was 
 something lacking. 
 
 They turned into Stand-ground Creek from which the 
 " broad " stretches away clear to the low brushwood of 
 the Isle Jatte. The dry peaty ridges crowned with pine 
 were over now — lost in the night. Only the water, the 
 flowing tide, and the salt marshes on either hand made a 
 morose and livid landscape which stretched to the 
 horizon. 
 
 Neiia rounded the spits of ooze and " slub " with 
 practised ease. The sea grass, loved of fish, tickled the 
 bottom of the boat as they slid over the swampy bars. 
 Away on the far side of Grande Island a solitary light 
 could be seen — the open door of Old Man Peter's hut, 
 where doubtless he would be making ready for the 
 morning's catch. He was, as Nena said, their nearest 
 and, indeed, their only neighbour, but Peter was a 
 roisterous man and a great breeder of game cocks in the 
 days before the coming of the saints. Now, however, he 
 had little to do except fish the water and bang off his gun 
 at the ducks in the pools. Though they did say that
 
 A MIDNIGHT SUMMONS 159 
 
 sometimes he would call a main, and fight his red bantam 
 rooster against the grey, all alone on the isle, with no one 
 to look on the night but himself — whereby he swore that 
 he had as great pleasure as when he got fifty pieces from 
 the gentlemen of the cock-pit for the exhibition. 
 
 Before them stretched the water dead under the night 
 stillness, but as the salt tide began to push up the scum, 
 growing living again with the breath which the great out- 
 side sea breathed into it, the sea of breakers, of green 
 waves shouldering each other, and the white wings of 
 gulls. Here they were among brackish lagoons. Dead 
 Men's Lanterns pulsed fitfully incandescent on either 
 hand, and the doctor snififed and grumbled, " We shall 
 have fever if we do not take care. Give me some of the 
 bitter bark and take some on your tongue yourself." 
 
 " A dose of Hollands will stand you in better stead," 
 said Hal, producing the silver flask which his father had 
 given him. So they drank one after the other to wash 
 down the bitter drug. Nefia, chafing at the delay, re- 
 fused both and continued to scull on her own account. 
 
 At last they came in sight of the Isle Jatte — a low 
 purple bar of denser cloud to the eastward. 
 
 Presently they were nearer. The brushwood of the 
 isle mounted higher. The girl told Hal to bring his oar 
 inboard. She stood up balancing herself lightly in the 
 prow and swaying from side to side as she paddled. A 
 little jutting pier stole alongside, building itself up out 
 of the blacker dark. 
 
 " The Isle Jatte ! " said the girl, holding the boat 
 close in for them to land. She took the doctor's case 
 and led the way. 
 
 And as they followed through the man-high scrub of 
 willow bush and bog alder, over the lagoon came to their 
 ears the distant mellow clamour of the Cathedral bells, 
 striking midnight.
 
 XVII 
 BLIND MAN'S FERRY 
 
 « yi GALLOPING pulse, hot dry hands, tongue like 
 
 /■\ smoked beef, and chills that shake the house — 
 what, my friend, can any man make of that ? " 
 
 "Marsh fever. Doctor?" said the Wassailer; "no, 
 Doctor, I have had marsh fever too often not to know 
 that when it comes — besides, 'tis not the time of year, 
 early spring and late autumn I get the shakes as regular 
 as seed time and harvest. But the March winds and the 
 ice on the pools drive out the poison. Neither cold nor 
 heat can the chills abide, but this is worse and grips 
 deeper, Doctor. I doubt it be my call from a far land." 
 
 " Nonsense, man," said the Scott, " we will have you 
 right and fit again as fast as a kitten frisks. My friend 
 Captain Ludlow of the Seventh Troop has brought 
 you enough of the precious Jesuit's Bark all the way 
 from South America to physic a sick elephant. Little 
 demoiselle here will see that you take it regularly — mind, 
 three times a day, and oftener, till you hear your ears 
 buzzing as if bluebottles had got into them. That and 
 good Hollands will see you through. Hillo, who is this? " 
 
 The door opened and two men came in, whereupon 
 the hermit of Isle Jatte turned his head with a gesture 
 of involuntary annoyance. 
 
 " Well, Wassailer," said the cracked voice of the 
 smaller man, who wore a kind of cloak like a thatched 
 umbrella about his neck and throat, " I came over to 
 bring you a bit of fish just fresh out of the net, and to 
 present my friend — why, where is he?" 
 
 He turned about, but the taller man had slunk back 
 
 160
 
 BLIND MAN'S FERRY 161 
 
 again into the circle of the night. Old Peter went to the 
 door and called, but his voice only roused the wading 
 birds along the ragged isle-edges. They rose in clouds 
 and circled curiously about the fowler's hut. Old Man 
 Peter, the fighting-cock breeder of Grand Isle, came 
 back into the room with a cracked cackle of laughter. 
 
 " Can't abear the military — them as is in authority, 
 as the good book sez. My friend was frightened by your 
 helmet and war-gear. Captain. He has had the mis- 
 fortune, like many other gentlemen, not to be quite sure 
 which side he is on in this war, which naturally makes 
 him careful. But he will come again. He has taken 
 quite a fancy to your little maid. He has noticed her at 
 the market many a morning." 
 
 " Thank you, Peter," said the sick man, " you mean 
 well. But your ways are not my ways, nor those of your 
 friends those of my little maid. I will thank you to see 
 that she is left alone." 
 
 " Aye," said Hal savagely, " and you had better take 
 that as said once and for all, Master Cockfighter of Grande 
 Isle. I am Captain Ludlow, son of the Parliament Com- 
 missioner, and I tell you plainly, my father and Colonel 
 Cromwell know all about your bog-trotting shebeen over 
 there. You make it a refuge for traitors, sir, and we are 
 almost at the end of our patience." 
 
 The old man combed his mud-coloured beard ner- 
 vously. " There is some error," he said. " I shall go and 
 see Colonel Cromwell this very day. By my faith of an 
 honest man who earns a pittance by supplying the 
 forces with fish and fowl, I have never had anyone about 
 my place unfriendly to the Cause. Of course, when an 
 odd time I do fight a main of birds, many gentlemen 
 come from the three counties. Can I ask them all their 
 politics before they set foot in my pit? I would soon 
 get a quarter yard of steel through me if I did. Come, 
 sir, be reasonable." 
 
 " Ah," said Hal, with his most insolent expression.
 
 162 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " Did you not know that the fighting of cocks for money 
 was against the statute ? " 
 
 " In market towns, yes, or where there are troops — on 
 account of the young gentlemen betting — but not on the 
 Isle Grande. But why should you not come and see for 
 yourself. You have the figure of a most noble young 
 cocker. I know a gentleman when I see one. We have 
 very fine company at the Grande Isle, I do assure you — 
 why, only three months ago we had Master Dick himself 
 — such a fine young gentleman with a skin like a lady's 
 and his handkerchief scented when he pulled it from his 
 ruffled sleeve — it was like scattering violets on May Day, 
 so sweet it were." 
 
 A sharp pang ran through Hal's heart — fear lest he 
 understood only too well. 
 
 " What Dick ? " he demanded fiercely, " young Dick 
 Lucy of Charlcote ? " 
 
 " No, then, soft — ee — there," said the cocker, " no 
 rough-riding Candishers among my gentlemen. What 
 Dick, sez you? Why, who should it be but Master 
 Crummle, as fine a young spark of the game as ever 
 you would wish to see twirling a double gold piece on 
 his thumb nail." 
 
 " Idle Dick, by glory ! " exclaimed the Scotsman, " ab- 
 sent without leave from my Lord Essex and his regi- 
 ment." 
 
 " Perhaps not without his mother's leave," whispered 
 Hal, in the doctor's ear. " I must frighten this fellow." 
 
 And he turned upon Old Peter, who having launched 
 his arrow, now stood with a smile of sycophantish 
 triumph at the corners of his long ill-scraped upper 
 lip. 
 
 " See here, fellow," he said, in a tone of military 
 brusqueness, " if you want to be hanged, you have only 
 to let that come to the ears of his father. I give you 
 warning. A rope you shall have, my man, and no 
 questions asked."
 
 BLIND MAN'S FERRY 163 
 
 " I will tell nothing. It would be very poor advice to 
 my pocket to tell tales of any gentlemen who come to 
 Isle Grande for a little innocent diversion. But Master 
 Dick made no secret of his coming. There were a hun- 
 dred gentlemen on Grand Isle, besides collegians. Any 
 of their tongues might wag, and am I to be held re- 
 sponsible? Ha, listen!" 
 
 He stole to the door and stood with his hand behind 
 his ear. Then an expression of triumph twitched his 
 lips and his great goat's beard wagged with excitement. 
 He beckoned feverishly with the right hand. Hal 
 stepped to the door and listened. The cool purple dark- 
 ness which circled them told the eye nothing. But from 
 far away, every note distinct, came the bugle-call from 
 the distant town — first the reveille and then, immediately 
 on the back of that, the " Boot and Saddle." Every note 
 was distinct, but diminished to the daintiest fairy echo, 
 a bugle blown to summon True Thomas by the trum- 
 peters of the elfin Queen. 
 
 " If that be not Levi Allister, music to the Slepe Troop, 
 may I never touch feather or fin more! " 
 
 It came again, each note ringing light, clear, and 
 delicate, but to the ear of Hal Ludlow distinct as fate 
 knocking at the door. Then with a " Hallali " of joyous 
 sound, the bugles of the other troops took up the sum- 
 mons. It was a general muster and he not there ! 
 
 Pulses beat in his head and he would have run for the 
 shore, but that he knew himself upon an isle girt about 
 by lagoons. 
 
 " The alarm can only be because of some foray in the 
 north," said the doctor, who had been thinking the 
 matter over; " perhaps you can yet overtake them." 
 
 " They must cross behind Blind Man's Ferry," 
 said the girl ; " a guard has been posted there watch- 
 ing the bridge of boats ever since the return from Gains- 
 borough." 
 f " You may be right," groaned Hal, " but what good
 
 164? HAL O' THE IRONSmES 
 
 can that do me? I shall miss my troop. They must 
 ride without me — and then all is over with my Captaincy." 
 
 The girl became at once alert and vivid with life. 
 
 " It is my fault," she cried, " but we shall save you 
 yet. Come with me and we will cut the marsh at the 
 Ferry. Wolfenden Creek leads to Blind Man's crossing 
 where is the bridge of boats. The flood is running a 
 good five miles an hour, besides what we can make by 
 pulling. We shall have the start of them. Come ! " 
 
 And she pulled at his sleeve almost fiercely. 
 
 " Go," said the doctor, " I shall wait till your boat 
 comes back. It does not matter for me, Chief Surgeon 
 Baker will be with the troops, and Colonel Cromwell 
 never takes more than one man when he makes a 
 dash." 
 
 He came to the door with Hal and walked a few steps 
 with him, so as to be out of earshot. 
 
 " I saw the fellow who slunk away so quickly. He was 
 wearing your troop's coat and badge. I wager he is the 
 man who sent the bullet at your head. If you come up 
 with your Hog Laners get your senior corporal to call 
 the roll. Good night and good luck." 
 
 Hal was soon in the boat. After the bright light of 
 the hut, the blackness seemed denser, but Neha la Fain 
 never hesitated a moment. She launched herself into a 
 maze of lanes and cross-ways till she reached a wider 
 creek through which the salt water from the sea was 
 rushing with a soft continuous rustle of reeds and whis- 
 pering benty grass. 
 
 " Wolfenden Creek," the girl explained, handing him 
 a pair of sculls. " Row — I will keep her head right." 
 Which she did with a steering oar over the stern. She 
 did not speak again but stood alert and easy, leaning her 
 weight on her oar and taking the boat where she wished 
 it to go in spite of the imperious pour of water. Land- 
 marks were low and to Hal's untrained eye almost 
 invisible. Sometimes they shaved the bank so closely
 
 BLIND ]VIAN'S FERRY 165 
 
 that a little shoot of broom flicked his cheek, dropped a 
 colourless petal or two, and then dropped sharply back 
 like an unbent bow. 
 
 The higher they went the more rapid seemed the 
 current, till presently they were whirling along. The 
 bushes on the creek's edge fled behind as trees and 
 hedges do during a midnight gallop. Hal's oars would 
 hardly bite so swift was the current, till finally he drew 
 them in lest one or other should tangle the boat or be 
 snapped off in the impetuous rush of the tide. But ex- 
 cept for an occasional eddy, where the mud and scum 
 boiled up in oily bubbles and chattered under the keel so 
 that she danced dangerously, the boat went smoothly 
 enough. 
 
 " Steady there ! Back water with your left — hard — 
 hard ! " 
 
 Hal obeyed the order just in time to escape shipwreck 
 on a long dark embankment which crossed the fairway 
 in front of them. Something told him that they were at 
 Blind Man's Ferry and that this was no other than 
 Colonel Cromwell's bridge of boats laid down after Gains- 
 borough Fight. 
 
 The boat swerved aside easily and lightly, glided behind 
 a brow of turf and brought up in a little backwater. 
 Nena put aside the reeds, drew the boat to the verge, and 
 fastened her to the stiff roots of the heath which over- 
 spread the place. 
 
 The air smelt different here, lighter, stronger, less salt. 
 The wolds were already making themselves felt. Neiia 
 la Fain gave her hand to her passenger, and in a moment 
 they found themselves among the birch copse and strag- 
 gling pines marking the beginning of the sand stretches 
 which lie between the fen and the wolds. 
 
 They were at the bridge and Hal was trying to make 
 out by the appearance of the road whether the regiment 
 had already passed. But it was dark and, even if he 
 had seen all that there was to see, the constant passage
 
 166 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 of troops had worn the pathway into mere trampled 
 sand. 
 
 Nena discovered a reason for better hope, however. 
 From a Httle knoll of dwarf pine by the waterside they 
 could look down upon the bridge. At either end a couple 
 of torches flared murkily, while sentinels moved back 
 and forward guarding the passage, their helmets and 
 breastplates glittering in the ruddy glow of the flaming 
 pine knots. 
 
 No, the troops were yet on their way. He was in time, 
 and Hal was thanking God when a fear came upon him, 
 gripping his heart, that they might be riding south to 
 attack Danbury Towers. But after all he decided that 
 this was unlikely. For the Colonel would certainly have 
 mentioned the matter to him, seeing that he had just 
 come thence. It must be a sudden alarm, a messenger 
 riding in through the midnight, with some tale of a terri- 
 fied country-side, of smoking and roofless villages. 
 
 The night lay black and still from horizon to horizon. 
 Down by the bridge, however, there was a steady to and 
 fro, a clink of accoutrements, and once on the other side 
 of the creek a horse neighed. 
 
 But presently Nefia, who till now had been silent, 
 grasped him by the sleeve. 
 
 " I hear them coming," she whispered close to his 
 ear, " then you will not be angry with me. I can go back 
 happy to nurse the Wassailer ? " 
 
 " I am not angry, Nefia ; how should I be angry for 
 that which you could not help ? " 
 
 " Listen — listen," she cried, " your head close to the 
 ground." And then Hal became conscious that the 
 unstable earth of the fen was all tremulous, throbbing 
 and humming like a smitten harp-string. Yes, they were 
 coming. The lights multiplied at the bridge end. 
 Presently the hoofs of the first horses resounded hollow 
 on the planking. Then came a pause, the first troop had 
 passed over in safety. Rumble — rumble — these were
 
 BLIND MAN'S FERRY 167 
 
 the field-pieces which were always taken when the 
 brigade moved out for more than forty-eight hours. It 
 was then to be an expedition of some duration. Again 
 the tramp of troop horses and soon the Ironsides (with 
 OHver at their head, a majestic figure cut in blackness) 
 were defiling past. 
 
 First came the Slepe Troop, which on account of its 
 early enrolment had the right to that position, then the 
 St. Neot's men, which ought to have been Idle Dick's 
 had he not been sent in disgrace to my Lord Essex. 
 
 " Thank God, I have yet a chance," muttered Hal to 
 himself. His own seventh troop would be the last. He 
 would certainly find a spare horse in the command. He 
 crouched behind a bushy alder looking into the doubtful 
 shadows, scarce conscious of the slim little figure which 
 crouched beside him or the touch of that small hand so 
 warm within his. He was thinking of strong warlike 
 things — things in which little Neiia la Fain had no part — 
 his career — his command, his general. He watched the 
 seventh troop disengage itself from the bridge. That, he 
 thought, must be Hog Lane. Black and sinuous the 
 column made its way up the pathway of trampled sand. 
 
 At last they came. He could see little Zered. He 
 could see his own horse, his Hereward, led in his place. 
 Zered had not forgotten him. He started down the slope 
 and with one easy spring he was in the saddle. Zered 
 let go the rein. Hereward turned to bite his master's 
 leg in a friendly fashion, while behind, their Captain 
 being restored to them, all Hog Lane rejoiced. 
 
 But under the scrub thickets a little figure watched. 
 He had never said good-bye, but her heart was too proud 
 of what she heard and saw to care. 
 
 He, the man she loved, riding his great horse, his 
 white plume blowing out on the night air, his sword 
 clanking against the sabretache — and then the relentless 
 march of the squadrons blotting out the silent stars.
 
 XVIII 
 THE HARDENING OF HOG LANE 
 
 AFTER this there was no rest for the Ironsides till 
 j\ the great fight was over. The business of the war 
 pressed fiercely. The King gained mightily. From 
 north, south, and west came daily tidings of his successes. 
 Hopton had swept the south. Rupert was everywhere 
 in the Midlands. The traitor Hotham had delivered up 
 Hull and the road to London lay open. 
 
 But between them and victory over the Houses lay 
 one enemy whose force they had not yet tried — the New 
 Model regiments raised by the Governor of Ely, Colonel 
 Cromwell. But the secret had been well kept. Only 
 Hotham suspected. 
 
 *' Above all things," he wrote, when he proposed to 
 deliver up Lincoln, " Colonel Cromwell must be pre- 
 vented from riding hither," his way with traitors was 
 known to be an exceedingly short one. 
 
 The swords of Hal's seventh troop mowed a bloody 
 swathe down Slash Lane on the day of Winceby Fight. 
 They cleared all Lincolnshire. They rode with Colonel 
 Cromwell all the way to Gloucester. They captured 
 strengths and country-houses by the dozen — Danbury 
 among the number, lying deserted with no man to 
 defend it, save stout old Hepburn, who, being offered a 
 choice betw^een the gallows and an employment with 
 Fairfax's gunners, very wisely decided for the artillery, 
 where he began most philosophically to do his duty and 
 organise his charge like the stout old soldier of fortune 
 he was. 
 
 Once my Lord Woodham Walter came to Ely to see 
 
 168
 
 THE HARDENING OF HOG LANE 1G9 
 
 his daughter, riding in unawares and finding her with 
 sleeves tucked up and shortened kirtle, learning how to 
 make shortcake. Whereat, great man that he was, he 
 stood under the portal of the passage door, and, clap- 
 ping his hands together, cried, " Bravo, Moll, this is a 
 better sight for a father's eyes than if I had caught 
 you riding, booted and spurred, by the side of Prince 
 Robber." 
 
 Molly, with the stirring stick in her hand, turned to 
 her visitor and said, " Better for you, father, for in that 
 case I should have caught you ! " My Lord Woodham 
 Walter, after taking counsel, brief and to the point with 
 that exceedingly busy man, Colonel Cromwell, Governor 
 of Ely City, and after smoking much excellent tobacco 
 with his friend, Mr. Ludlow, the Parliamentary Commis- 
 sioner, decided that he could not do better than leave 
 his daughter where she was, among the lively young 
 people of the Tithe House, which stood open-doored all 
 day long, filled as to its great yard with the rolling of 
 waggon wheels and the clank and clatter of arms, the 
 comings and goings of stafT-captains and the breathless 
 entries and exits of gallopers bearing missives from this 
 post and that. Within the house, too, there was stir and 
 bustle. Idle Dick had taken it upon himself to ride with 
 the Slepe Troop as a private soldier. His mother had 
 bought him (secretly, as she supposed) a horse and outfit 
 — and Colonel Cromwell, alert but saying nothing, grimly 
 awaited the outcome. But he conveyed to Cornet Sam 
 Squire a hint that Idle Dick was to be kept remarkably 
 busy, and to Captain Harry Cromwell that he was to 
 overlook no breach of discipline in his troop, no matter 
 who the offender might be. 
 
 " If you mean Dick," the lad had answered, " I will 
 thrash him till he can't stand if he so much as cocks a 
 feather at me." 
 
 " Well, lad, he is your brother, and what is more to 
 the purpose your mother's son; but first of all, if he is
 
 170 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 to ride with the Slepe Troop, he must submit to disci- 
 pHne, which you are there to see enforced." 
 
 As for Captain Hal Ludlow he was kept busy in the 
 north all the winter season. Colonel Cromwell was 
 hardening Hog Lane, and during all these weary months 
 he used them mercilessly in the business of pacifying the 
 country. 
 
 He would come into the red-hung winter parlour, 
 where his wife and daughters were sitting with books and 
 workbaskets in the lights of the candles, and with their 
 feet towards the cheerful blaze. 
 
 " A good night to you, good folk," he would say ; 
 " and whom have you had to see you to-day ? " 
 
 It was usually his favourite Bess who was quickest to 
 reply. 
 
 " Oh, father, we had a visit from Hal Ludlow ; he 
 came to see us all, but of course Molly in particular 
 (because he calls her his ' prisoner ' and asks to see her 
 chains and fetters!). But he had hardly begun to tell us 
 what he had been doing, when that horrid little Zered 
 Tuby came in to tell us that the troop was ordered to 
 Lincoln City. We bade Zered begone and leave his 
 Captain in peace, for Hal was weary with much riding. 
 But he would not, and poor Hal must go. I would have 
 given Zered a box on the ears, and I did give Hal a hearty 
 kiss — yes, I did — and I am not ashamed. So did mother 
 and all of us." 
 
 " Poor young man, indeed," said Cromwell, gravely 
 sympathetic, " to be snatched away from such sweet- 
 meats." 
 
 " Oh, if he had stayed he would not have had the 
 kisses " 
 
 " So perhaps on the whole Master Hal is better ofif as 
 it is," commented Oliver, pinching his daughter's ear, for 
 Bess was ever his comrade. 
 
 " Oh, but we had a thousand things to ask him. He 
 has been away for full three months and we have only
 
 THE HARDENING OF HOG LANE 171 
 
 seen him twice — and both times he hath been swept off 
 before he had time to answer a hundredth part of our 
 questions." 
 
 " My Lord Fairfax is a very hard general," said Crom- 
 well, with mock sympathy. " I suffer from his restless- 
 ness daily myself. He is always finding something new 
 for me to do." 
 
 " Father, could you not speak to him for Hal and 
 Harry? The poor lads grow lean as rake handles. Why 
 not let Dick have a troop and go out in his turn? " 
 
 " He is helping Sam Squire with the accounting and 
 is more use to us there than commanding any number 
 of troops." 
 
 " Richard is a good lad, and I will not have him spoken 
 against in this house," put in Dame Cromwell. 
 
 Colonel Cromwell patted his wife's comfortable 
 shoulder. " Dick shall not suffer for being a good son 
 to his mother. Length of days shall he have, but he is 
 less fitted for the hard tumble of battling with Rupert 
 and the Newark rough riders than either of our two 
 Hals." 
 
 " Richard hath much heart and a delicate nature," 
 said Dame Elizabeth with an air of offended dignity. 
 
 " The trouble lies just there," said Cromwell; "if the 
 Cambdeners and Rupert's men wereallasdelicate-natured 
 as Dick, there might be some use sending him to deal 
 with them, but you see they are plain robbers and strong- 
 handed marauders. So rough, stout, honest fellows like 
 Hal Ludlow and Harry Cromwell must go to argue with 
 them — not at all delicately." 
 
 " Oh, husband, is it true that my Henry has killed a 
 man in fight and hanged prisoners ?" 
 
 " They were plunderers and deserved no better ! " 
 
 " Still it is true that he hanged them, and he was such 
 a pretty baby ! " 
 
 Colonel Cromwell turned away to hide a smile. He 
 humoured his wife and did not argue with her.
 
 172 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " He has his orders for all he has done," he said ; " a 
 soldier must obey orders." 
 
 "Whose order had Harry?" persisted his wife. 
 " Whose orders caused a sweet boy like my Harry to be 
 set to doing the work of the common hangman?" 
 
 " Mine ! " thundered the head of the house explosively, 
 suddenly putting an end to all discussion. " Bridget, 
 bring the Books for the evening worship of God." 
 
 Hal Ludlow was wholly happy during this period of 
 his life. He was young and weather-hardened. Hog 
 Lane became a seasoned troop, working together like 
 well-oiled machinery. He had quite forgotten the sweet 
 carelessness of summer and the idle days on the edge of 
 Crow Wood which had so nearly cost him his life. His 
 men he now knew one by one. There was no coward 
 among them — how could there be a traitor? Certainly 
 the doctor must have been mistaken. 
 
 He met him on his way to the Tithe House the night 
 when the troop was summoned to the relief of Lincoln. 
 He had hailed him to ask after Nefia and the Wassailer, 
 and also to give him a dozen gold pieces to expend for 
 their benefit if he found it possible or necessary. The 
 Huguenot was a difficult object of charity, but the 
 Edinburgh doctor well understood his feeling — a common 
 one among his own country-folk. But he lied most 
 boldly in prescribing medical comforts, and in declaring 
 that they must return thanks to Providence and to the 
 Parliament whose servant he was for the pension which 
 the Wassailer consented to receive. 
 
 He had given what help he could, but he told the 
 Wassailer, with the bluntness of his race, that doctor's 
 drugs even of the best would be of little good so long 
 as the Huguenot remained among the dank thickets of 
 the Isle Jatte. 
 
 " Man, three months on the hills would do ye more 
 good than a whole apothecary's shop — what am I say-
 
 THE HARDENING OF HOG LANE 173 
 
 ing? Three months — one month would do the business. 
 There's no firm soil here. If ye stamp your foot, the 
 island rocks on the rotten water beneath. Never an 
 honest burn running clitter-clatter over the pebbles and 
 the very grass neither glad nor wholesome — and all as 
 weary as Doomsday morning! " 
 
 " But how are we to hve away from the fens? " asked 
 the Wassailer. " The birds are here — the fishes are in the 
 hand of God. There are good markets near by where 
 we can sell them ? " 
 
 The doctor lifted up his hands with a hopeless gesture. 
 
 " I don't know where you can live," he announced a 
 little brutally ; " but I know very well where you will 
 die if you do not flit before long! " 
 
 Hal went away sadly enough and often thought of the 
 lonely couple on the Isle Jatte — the man slowly dying 
 of marsh fever and the girl bound sooner or later to go 
 the same way. 
 
 But he was soon in the midst of his marchings and 
 fightings again — night surprises and sudden onfalls in 
 desperate winter dawnings, w^hite volleys of musketry, 
 and King's horsemen who must be instantly charged and 
 ridden down. For times were changed indeed. No more 
 mere summer campaignings, with my Lord Essex lying 
 months inactive while the enemy swarmed and ravaged 
 up to his very outposts. Colonel Cromwell taught his 
 men during these months that there is no weather too 
 bitter in which to make war. If the enemy was to be 
 reached, no time was better than the long blackness of a 
 winter night. No charge was more certainly successful 
 than that made through the whirling drifts of an easterly 
 snowstorm. 
 
 More than once Hal dismounted his men, lined hedges 
 with musketry fire as a dripping enemy toiled heavily 
 up hill in the face of a tempest of rain, waited till they 
 had turned about, and then remounting and reforming 
 his troop, charged like a thunderbolt, and so conquered.
 
 174 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Conquered ! Rather so, indeed. For by this time the 
 twenty troops of Cromwell's regiments had come to this 
 of it, that they never thought of failing. They knew they 
 would conquer. The enemy also knew it, and so the 
 issue of each event was certain. The Ungodly trembled 
 at the name of Hog Lane and, remembering certain 
 former escapades, wondered what Hal Ludlow was doing 
 among the Anabaptist prophets. 
 
 Rupertian plunderers, long accustomed to the license 
 of locusts, were now hanged upon convenient trees, rid- 
 dled with bullets against opposite walls, or more fre- 
 quently driven in, hungry and unsatisfied, upon the main 
 army of the Robber Prince. He was hungry also — 
 angry too, and disgusted with the new turn of aiTairs. 
 Everyone knew that soon an outbreak on his part was 
 to be apprehended. Twenty thousand men could not 
 swagger in idleness along Oxford High Street, gaunt and 
 hungry bellied, merely to see the college windows 
 lighted and the loyal fellows going in to dine. If 
 work was not to be found for these haggard riders there 
 would be the devil to pay one day not far off in the 
 college butteries. 
 
 To Colonel Cromwell and the wise cool heads who 
 acted under him (for the most part in perfect independ- 
 ence), Oxford became the puzzle which needed solution. 
 What was going on there? Of what were the King's men 
 thinking? On what were they living? When and 
 whither would they march? 
 
 Externally the King had never been so prosperous. 
 But though Essex lay inactive, while Manchester like a 
 good Presbyterian prayed for the Scots, the new Eastern 
 Association troops knew the King's weakness. 
 
 All that winter the fighting troops of Cromwell's regi- 
 ments were kept moving and hardening themselves. The 
 fens were frozen. Sufificient snow had fallen to make 
 every canal an admirable highway of ice. 
 
 All South Lincoln from Lindsey to the verges of
 
 THE HARDENING OF HOG LANE 175 
 
 Kesteven and Holland were swept bare as the palm of 
 a man's hand. Wherever the King's men were met with, 
 day or night, they found themselves charged and swept 
 off the face of the earth, in a hurly-burly of barking 
 muskets and flashing swords — the feet of galloping 
 horses in pursuit falling upon hard earth with the thun- 
 der of surf on a pebbly beach. 
 
 Hal Ludlow became as weather-beaten and bronzed 
 a veteran as any general could wish to see, silently 
 obedient mostl}', but when left to himself full of resource, 
 and when asked for an opinion, giving it with quick self- 
 respect, 
 
 " A precious lad ! " Colonel Cromwell had said of him 
 to Ireton, '' There is now hardly a hair to choose be- 
 tween Hog Lane and the Slepe Troop itself." 
 
 But Master Hal himself was not by any means so satis- 
 fied, which was the best of all signs. 
 
 He had been victorious. Castles and defended manors 
 had fallen to him, but he had found no men within, cap- 
 tured few prisoners of note, and even the St. Xeot's men, 
 with whom Idle Dick now rode (the Slepe Troop having 
 cast him quietly out), triumphed openly over them when 
 it came to the division of spoil. 
 
 For this last Hal cared little, but he spoke bitterly to 
 his lieutenant of the way in which they were allowing 
 themselves to be distanced. 
 
 " There is a traitor somewhere," he declared to little 
 Zered ; " our plans are known to the enemy. Only last 
 week when we surprised Belvoir, we fell upon a hornet's 
 nest sent from the Newark garrison. Yet the intention 
 was not known outside the troop, and to them only a 
 bare twelve hours." 
 
 " Somebody is certainly a very good guesser," said 
 Zered. " But I cannot believe in treachery. Every man 
 fights well and only cowards are traitors. But let us 
 have in the rolls and take the men name by name." 
 
 But they could make nothing of it. " A few men may
 
 176 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 be lukewarm and careless in religious observances," here 
 Zered cocked his eye at his Captain, " but they have 
 always stood to it stoutly when blows were going and 
 steel was flashing." 
 
 The man who brought in the muster sheets, Doe Royds 
 — now on account of his courage and bodily strength 
 doing duty as guard corporal — stood at a distance and 
 watched with sombre eye the discussion he could not 
 hear. 
 
 He had in his belt at that moment a rouleau of gold 
 pieces which had never been paid out of the regimental 
 treasury. But though he knew that on account of his 
 late and irregular recruiting he was bound to be an 
 object of suspicion, he moved no muscle, but stood to 
 grave attention at the proper distance while his officers 
 were consulting together, altogether impassive and ap- 
 parently conscience-free. 
 
 Zered made a mistake. It takes a great deal of very 
 real courage to be a traitor of the right sort — one, that is, 
 whose information is worth paying for. He risks igno- 
 minious death every moment from the side he is betray- 
 ing, while from the other he has nothing to expect except 
 money. He knows that he will be disowned if taken, 
 and despised if he escapes. Yet there are men who 
 undertake all this and carry it through with a sort of 
 fierce pride to be thus juggling with the gallows or the 
 firing party. And of such was Doe Royds.
 
 XIX 
 
 THE LAST OF ISLE JATTE 
 
 ON the Isle Jatte winter had slain the fever of the 
 marshes, but the bitter season sealed the ponds and 
 made shooting difficult for a man as weakened by 
 malaria as the Wassailer. But Nefia la Fain, having 
 now to be trapper as well as saleswoman, took blunder- 
 buss and powder-horn in the old fowler's place. 
 
 A new freshness sent the colour to her olive cheeks, 
 rounded her figure delicately, and with her wild locks 
 tightly banded about her head Nefia added (as it seemed 
 quite suddenly) a full cubit to her stature. 
 
 The latent youth within her was breaking bounds, and 
 she never went to market now without receiving tokens 
 of admiration, impertinent or respectful after their kind, 
 to which she had been previously unaccustomed. On 
 more than one occasion the roisterous hermit of Grande 
 Isle, Old Man Peter, had brought with him to Jatte Isle 
 the soldier who had retreated so precipitately at the 
 sight of Doctor Lorraine and the Captain of the Seventh 
 Troop. 
 
 Neiia did not like the man, but she quite understood 
 his anxiety to escape the capacity for anger she had sur- 
 prised once or twice in the eyes of Captain Ludlow, and 
 which had been one of Colonel Cromwell's principal 
 reasons for appointing him. For a captain of Ironsides 
 without a capacity for wrath would have been useless 
 indeed. Nena la Fain, ever willing to screen a culprit, 
 never for a moment dreamed of delivering the soldier to 
 justice. She went about her work and left him in the 
 hut talking with the Wassailer and Old Man Peter. But 
 
 177
 
 178 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 the word to the doctor was not spoken, and Hal Ludlow 
 she never saw but once during all that winter. He was 
 leading his troop towards their quarters at the Intend- 
 ance, the horses plodding wearily with drooping heads, 
 and the men with snow crusted upon their shoulders and 
 blown into the plies of their huge grey cloaks. 
 
 But the friend who came to see the Wassailer along 
 with Old Man Peter was no other than acting troop 
 corporal Doe Royds of the Seventh Troop, and the secret 
 friend whom he came out to meet was his old master, 
 Silas Seale, of Boreham Barns, Quaker and spy. 
 
 It was no wonder, therefore, that between Isle Jatte 
 and Grande Isle a very burbled skein had been reeled up, 
 almost impossible to unravel. 
 
 If Nefia had had the least idea that such a man could 
 in any way have harmed her Captain Hal, white-plumed 
 and clad in steel, she would have laid information im- 
 mediately, but to her Hal seemed a hero invincible, and 
 the more so that each market day she made a pilgrimage 
 to the town house, where on a board were placarded up 
 all the exploits of the troops on active service in the 
 government of the Isle of Ely. 
 
 She was standing before the sheet on which was writ- 
 ten: "7th Troop, Captain Henry Ludlow: taking of 
 Wisby House ; dispersal of two troops of Newark for- 
 agers under Ensign Cockerill ! Capture of thirty men, 
 ten horses, and much provender — wounded in the troop. 
 Oak and Le Blond. Recommendations for gallantry in 
 action, Gordon Ewell and Corporal Royds." 
 
 How was it possible for Nefia to suspect so brave a 
 man? There was that in the eyes of Doe Royds which 
 she instinctively avoided, but she could not help looking 
 at him with respect as one recommended for bravery by 
 her own Captain Hal, who better than any knew what 
 it was to be brave. 
 
 As she stood there a man passed slowly by, and then 
 struck by the immobility of the young figure standing
 
 THE LAST OF ISLE JATTE 179 
 
 in front of the army reports board, he turned and laid 
 a hand on her shoulder. Nefia looked up to find a tall 
 old man in long Geneva cloak of rustling silk, a high- 
 crowned broad-brimmed hat and under it fine white hair 
 falling to his shoulders. Nena knew vaguely that this 
 must be Doctor Peter Fisher, the great Presbyterian 
 divine, who, in the time of Laud's greatness, had been 
 expelled from Cambridge. He had taken refuge in Ely 
 and was now pastor of the High Church, where he was 
 listened to as an oracle. 
 
 " Why, little one," he said, touching her head pater- 
 nally, " have you a brother or a sweetheart among 
 the wounded? I have seen you here every market 
 day." 
 
 Nefia shook her head. She came to sell wild fowl and 
 fish, she said. She lived on Isle Jatte with an old man 
 who had been kind to her. 
 
 " Do you mean Jacques the Pluguenot? " 
 
 " Yes, the Wassailer — he has been very ill. The 
 surgeon says he will die before the summer if he does 
 not go to a higher place where the air and water are 
 wholesome." 
 
 " Come into my house," said the minister, after a 
 moment's thought. " We must not let a fellow-religionist 
 die if we can help it. They were kind to me once in his 
 country. Do you follow me to my study? " 
 
 So Nena followed the stately Doctor of Divinity to a 
 door with a great brass knocker which shone like gold 
 upon the panel. He opened it with a small key 
 and let them both into a wide hall filled with warmth 
 from a great fire of logs which burned upon huge 
 andirons. 
 
 Another moment and by the opening of a door Nena 
 found herself in the most marvellous place she had ever 
 seen in her life, the theologian's study — rare books, in 
 serried rows all about it, their backs giving off a kind 
 of golden clarity of light, mellow and soothing to every
 
 180 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 lover of letters, but simply amazing to a wild girl like 
 Nena la Fain. 
 
 Yet she had within her an instinctive love of books. 
 She read and re-read with avidity the few books which 
 Jacques the Wassailer had brought with him — the 
 Chronicle of the League in six dumpy volumes, the big 
 folio History of Provence, with the pictures and armorial 
 bearings, the French Genevan Bible, identical in type 
 and arrangement with that famous one of 1560 published 
 by the English exiles in their own tongue. But after all 
 what were a few battered volumes tossed about in a 
 wanderer's sea chest to this great four-square enclosure 
 of books? 
 
 The minister struck a gong by the door. A kindly- 
 featured elderly woman came upstairs drying her hands 
 on a towel. 
 
 " This is the daughter of a Protestant brother, exiled 
 for conscience' sake upon Isle Jatte. Take her and make 
 her comfortable till I return." 
 
 He took up his high-crowned felt hat, planted it upon 
 his white locks, and staff in hand sallied out. He turned 
 his steps first towards the Intendance, where he found 
 Mr. Commissioner Ludlow laboriously passing and 
 signing the reports prepared for him by his pay and 
 forage clerks. With him was another gentleman, who 
 sate in the fireplace with a long Dutch pipe, warming his 
 hands at the blaze and puffing complaisantly up the wide 
 chimney. 
 
 " A good day to you. Doctor," said the Commissioner 
 heartily. For he was an elder in the High Church, as 
 became every good Presbyterian of note in Ely City. 
 " This is my friend and fellow-elder, my Lord Woodham 
 Walter — whatever you have to say can be said before 
 him." 
 
 The stately theologian bowed. Lord Woodham Walter 
 rose, put away his pipe, and held out his hand. 
 
 " I had the happiness of hearing you preach on Sun-
 
 THE LAST OF ISLE JATTE 181 
 
 day," he said ; " that day the wall was daubed with no 
 untempered mortar ! " 
 
 The doctor had preached in the hearing of Colonel 
 Cromwell, and as it were under his nose, a most faithful 
 sermon against the Sects which the great soldier was 
 understood to favour, Independents, Brownists, Baptists, 
 and Anabaptists. 
 
 " I only spoke the message as it was given to me," 
 said Doctor Peter Fisher. 
 
 " I would that all men had as faithful a tongue and as 
 clear a vision," said my Lord Woodham Walter ; " but 
 I detain you from your business." 
 
 And without any further apology he resumed his low 
 stool of black oak set within the great fireplace, and 
 began to draw away at his pipe, leaving the two gentle- 
 men to speak together by the great desk where Mr. 
 Commissioner had been writing. Doctor Fisher told the 
 story of Jacques the Huguenot exile of Isle Jatte, as far 
 as he knew it. The man was dying of chronic marsh 
 fever. The surgeon declared he would not see the sum- 
 mer heats, yet he could live nowhere else in all that 
 region. He had been a fisher and bird catcher on the 
 salt lakes of Provenge. He was too old and too shaken 
 to learn a new trade. It was likely, indeed, that trans- 
 plantation to a town would be as fatal as continued 
 residence on Jatte Island. 
 
 The Parliamentary Commissioner had a mind that 
 worked slowly. He had, he said, nothing to offer except 
 about the barns and stables of the Intendance, or in his 
 counting-house in Lombard Street, but as these seemed 
 barred, he did not see what he could suggest. 
 
 Up jumped my Lord Woodham Walter, his pipe 
 falling neglected against the brick wall of the chimney 
 corner. 
 
 " Heavens and earth, man," he exclaimed, " but you 
 are of small device to be a Parliament member. I al- 
 ways knew that we of the upper house could beat you.
 
 18a HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 man, though God knows little enough attention is paid 
 to what we say." 
 
 " You are all too busy keeping our armies idle," re- 
 torted the Commissioner, with a grin, which showed that 
 the subject was no new one. 
 
 " Tut, Ludlow, you never find a jest but you ride it to 
 death out of sheer surprise at your own wit. But I have 
 something to propose to your Wassailer better than 
 forage guard or stable boy. You have heard of our 
 famous Osea Island — no, of course not, how could a 
 Parliament man hear of anything which did not lie 
 between Westminster and the Tower Hamlets? But 
 Osea is part of my estate in Essex. It lies out from 
 Maldon in the full wash of the tides. It is healthy as the 
 German Ocean, My late guard ran off to Oxford during 
 the disturbances — that wretch of a girl of mine ought 
 to be whipped. The place and house are at your friend's 
 service. Fish and fowl there are in plenty and no fever 
 within scores of miles. There is a boat which he can 
 sail, a couple of skiffs besides, and I shall pay him the 
 same wages as my late rascal." 
 
 Doctor Peter bowed his stateliest thanks to the em- 
 phatic little nobleman. A bargain was struck, and the 
 minister of the High Church hastened back to find Neiia 
 comfortably installed by the kitchen fire and in talk with 
 his housekeeper. 
 
 " I will come with you to see your father," he an- 
 nounced as both the girl and the woman rose simul- 
 taneously to their feet. 
 
 The elder cried out against such a venture — his health 
 — the time of year, the inclemency of the weather, the 
 shortness of the winter days — all were vainly invoked as 
 reasons why he should not stir from home. The doctor 
 was going, the doctor would go ! 
 
 They went by hard-bitten paths through the winter 
 woods, where the leaves crackled crisp under foot, many 
 of them ice-covered and shining. Neiia's young shoulder
 
 THE LAST OF ISLE JATTE 183 
 
 bore up the old man's hand, and with his stout oaken 
 staff in the other he made brave progress. Only at the 
 point of the Isle could they cross, for there the tides had 
 kept the water free and the ice in motion. They arrived 
 at last, and found the Wassailer preparing supper for 
 Nena on her return. The old Huguenot, by race and 
 training an admirer of order and decency, drew up his 
 long lean body to salute the great preacher and notable 
 man of God. 
 
 Solemnly with upraised hand Doctor Peter invoked 
 a blessing upon the humble shelter of clay and wattle. 
 He could not have done more nobly for White Hall or 
 St. James's. 
 
 Then he sat down and began to speak, sweeping away 
 doubt, objection, and difficulty in the flow of his argu- 
 ment. It was dark before the anxieties of the Wassailer 
 could be set at rest. But at last he declared that he was 
 ready to go to Osea Island and would serve my Lord 
 faithfully to the best of his ability. Snow also had begun 
 to fall, and as the signs were those of a three days' storm 
 which might block the Isle for weeks, Doctor Peter 
 ordered the Wassailer to pack up his most precious 
 belongings, and return with him to his house in Ely till 
 such time as the remainder of the household gear and 
 hunting traps, the nets and tackle could be recovered. It 
 was past eleven of the clock when Mistress Martha Vines, 
 standing on the storm-beaten threshold of the presbytery, 
 went indoors without a word of welcome, her anxiety 
 concerning her master turning instantly into resentment 
 as soon as she knew him safe. She went into the kitchen 
 and prepared a foot-bath dusted thick with mustard, 
 which she carried to the doctor's bedroom, and com- 
 pelled him to sit down in his dressing-gown while she 
 peeled off a pair of perfectly dry socks with vicious jerks, 
 exclaiming against men who would follow any run-the- 
 hedge for the sole purpose of causing work and worry to 
 honest people. Then she inserted his feet one after the
 
 184. HAL 0' THE IRONSn)ES 
 
 other into the mustard bath, wholly unmoved by his 
 protestations that she might just as well have thrust 
 them between the bars of the grate. 
 
 " I have stood the Star Chamber and in the pillory, 
 but honestly. Mistress Martha, this is worse than either." 
 
 He submitted, however, and presently, re-hosed and 
 warmly vestmented, he was allowed to go down to enter- 
 tain his guests.
 
 XX 
 
 MARSTON MOOR 
 
 IN the North the armies were gathered. All a sum- 
 mer's day they had watched each other, the Parlia- 
 ment and the Scots upon the ridge, and upon the 
 open moor towards York all that was most renowned 
 and gallant of that England which stood for the King. 
 
 Newcastle's famous Whitecoats, who had sworn to 
 dye their uniforms in the enemy's blood, Porter's foot, 
 my Lord Goring's horse, and as Commander-in-Chief 
 over all, the Prince Rupert, with his brilliant division 
 of cavaliers which had never yet known defeat. 
 
 Rupert knew that the most famous generals of the 
 Parliament were in front of him — Leven, Leslie, Craw- 
 ford, and the two Fairfaxes, father and son, but for him 
 only one man counted. 
 
 " Is Cromwell among you ? " he asked a prisoner, who 
 was brought before him. " Where is he posted ? " 
 
 The man showed the extreme left of the enemy's posi- 
 tion above the village street. Along the smooth verge 
 of the hill shone the steel " pots," the white feathers 
 and red coats of the Ironsides of the Eastern Associa- 
 tion, 
 
 "Will they fight?" demanded Rupert. 
 
 " Aye," said the man, who had seen Gainsborough and 
 Winceby, " wherever Colonel Cromwell is they always 
 fight." 
 
 " Go and tell your Cromwell that if he will fight, he 
 shall have fighting enough." 
 
 " If it please God," said Cromwell, when he had lis- 
 tened to the message, "so shall he!" 
 
 185
 
 186 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Hal was posted in the very centre of the line with all 
 his Hog Laners behind him. Right and left were the 
 Slepe Troop and the St. Neot's men. Only a few hun- 
 dred yards divided the armies after Rupert had brought 
 his cavaliers to the ground where he was at last to 
 measure swords with Cromwell. 
 
 It was weary work under the blazing July sun, but 
 Hog Lane was conscious of its responsibilities. At last 
 that was going to happen for which they had endured 
 such rigours of discipline, such ardours of combat. 
 
 They knew without being told, that if they were de- 
 feated and York relieved, it was all over with the Eastern 
 Association, all over with the Parliament. King Charles 
 would rule absolutely over the three kingdoms. But in 
 each man's heart was the belief that Hog Lane, Slepe, 
 St. Neot's, and Downham were invincible. Colonel 
 Crornwell (who that day and ever afterwards was Gen- 
 eral Cromwell) spoke no word to his officers. The offi- 
 cers had not an order to give their sergeants or corporals. 
 Each trooper silently looked to his equipment, and took 
 his appointed place in an impressive silence. 
 
 Their cause was the best, their discipline was the best, 
 their General was the best any army had ever known. 
 Some of them would surely die, but all of them would 
 conquer. 
 
 The heat of the day was passed when over the moor 
 came the reinforcements for which Rupert had been 
 waiting, the old soldier Eythen, Newcastle's chief of 
 staff, with the Northern battalions of York Castle garri- 
 son, a dense and serried array of twenty standards and 
 four thousand men. The sun began to descend towards 
 the west. It was six of the clock when the distant 
 cannon began to be heard. 
 
 A kind of shiver ran along the ranks — by no means of 
 fear, but rather of men settling themselves more easily 
 in their saddles. Steel " pots " were driven more firmly 
 over the four thousand cropped polls of Oliver's horse.
 
 MARSTON MOOR 187 
 
 There was an involuntary edging out towards the left 
 and a measuring of distances so that nothing should 
 impede the rise and fall of the sword-arm. 
 
 With his eye Hal marked the ground. He found it just 
 enough for the charge to gather force. The ditch in 
 front of Rupert's men? — he knew that would not stop 
 Hog Lane for a moment. Posedly, with the confidence 
 which men have in a great leader, Hal watched Crom- 
 well, who was sitting his horse a little in advance of the 
 troops. He could see him put his hand frequently to his 
 helmet to shade his eyes in order to judge the number 
 and force of the opposition he must encounter. He knew 
 better than any that the moment for which he had worked 
 and prayed for eighteen months was now close at hand. 
 
 The great Prince with all his invincible horsemen was 
 now in his front, come there expressly to try the mettle 
 of the New Model. If they were beaten, all was over. 
 Lucky they who managed among the cargo of a trading 
 ship to escape to the shores of New England. 
 
 " Into this battle," said Cromwell over his shoulder, 
 as Hereward, nervous with the waiting, and the flies, 
 ranged up closer to the Colonel's grey, " let no man go 
 lightheartedly. If we are beaten it were better that we 
 should not come out alive." 
 
 The sun, sinking lower, flecked the rugged surface of 
 the moor with innumerable flashes of fire. Immediately 
 in front and quite close was the whole division of Ru- 
 pert's cavaliers, proud and unbeaten, a mass of brilliant 
 accoutrements, tossing heads of noble horses, and hel- 
 mets with floating plumes. Many among the princely 
 regiments disdained the fluted casques, calling them 
 " Puritan pots," " Scots' saucepans," and other more 
 opprobrious terms. They were gentlemen, they said, and 
 would go into the battle like gentlemen, with a Vandyke 
 hat and sweeping plumes of blue and white. The red 
 Montero cap which Rupert ordinarily wore had also 
 been adopted by a great number of troops.
 
 188 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Away to the right Hal could see the long array of 
 infantry regiments, now being strengthened by the 
 garrison of York which had come out with Eythin. 
 Every moment the colour of the array changed as a 
 new regiment moved into place. But in the centre the 
 renowned Whitecoats of Newcastle held the van, giving 
 the effect of a patch of close-growing marguerites or 
 gowan daisies upon the brown barrens of the moor. 
 
 To the extreme left not much could be seen, except 
 standards pricking out of the dense gorse-cover which 
 encumbered that part of the field. 
 
 After that rapid glance Hal succeeded in reining back 
 Hereward to his troop, though that lordly animal snorted 
 indignantly, and kept up a dance of restless feet, as if 
 to remind his master that the business of a war-horse 
 was to charge. Hereward did not understand this wait- 
 ing hour after hour. He had seen the enemy and he 
 snuffed the battle from afar. He had been accustomed 
 to the short thunder of the charge, the breaking noise 
 of hostile squadrons meeting, and then to the sight of 
 the enemy fleeing wildly every way before him while 
 he and his master careered as fleetly after them. This 
 was Hereward's programme and he was restless and un- 
 easy, because that grey horse in front was blocking the 
 way. He had tried to pass, but had been roughly checked 
 back into place, an operation he hated. Oh, if only he 
 could bite the grey horse with the tall man who sat so 
 stolidly upon it. Then perhaps they might be permitted 
 to fall upon that insolent array in a thunder of hoofs and 
 a storm of whirling swords. 
 
 The artillery spoke more often from the moor, and the 
 great shots ploughed up the hill behind. A galloper 
 brought word to Cromwell that his nephew, young Val 
 Walton, had been killed. 
 
 But Cromwell never took his eyes off Rupert's array 
 as he received the news. He heard as though he heard 
 it not. But with a great forward leap of his heart, Hal
 
 MARSTON MOOR 189 
 
 saw that his commander suddenly straightened himself 
 in his saddle. Up went Cromwell's sword high in air, 
 a slender flicker of gold in the level evening light. A 
 single trumpet stridently sounded the charge. The 
 charge ! All down the long line of two thousand sabres 
 the answering flashes burst into flame. Cromwell glanced 
 once behind him and even his iron composure was 
 stirred. 
 
 "Behold, Great Babylon that I have built!" 
 
 In his heart the words rose unbidden, but he checked 
 them back. " Not I, but the Lord," he muttered, and 
 waved his sword. Already he was a score of yards in 
 front of his battle front. 
 
 " Charge ! " 
 
 Two thousand men heard Cromwell's voice of thunder, 
 his " battle " voice as the men said. The mass of the 
 troops, marvellously ranked, rocked with the coming 
 excitement. The horses began to trot, quite quietly at 
 first. Instinctively the enemy's fire concentrated itself 
 upon the Slepe and Hog Lane Troops which Cromwell 
 led in person. The speed of the horses quickened as the 
 ground sloped. The whole line was galloping now and 
 the horses were as eager as the men. Cromwell kept his 
 distance from the main rank, but Hal and Zered were 
 close behind him. They could see the cavaliers of Rupert 
 in solid masses preparing also to charge, but not clearly. 
 All had become swathed in a mirage, as though they saw 
 through a thin veil of golden mist with rainbow lights 
 shooting through it. Otherwise it seemed to Hal that 
 all these two thousand men behind him were charging 
 silently as in a dream. He saw nothing but a misty 
 glamour shot through by lightning flashes. He heard 
 not the thunder of the hoofs, only the beating of his own 
 heart. He seemed to ride, not upon honest Hereward, 
 but upon the viewless air. Yet his brain was wide, cool, 
 and empty as after extreme bodily pleasure. 
 
 Gradually the command drew together till each rider's
 
 190 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 boot could touch that of his neighbour — that they might 
 fall in a more resistless avalanche upon the enemy as 
 they serried their ranks more and more. They would not 
 let a single man through their files. 
 
 The gallop had become wild and desperate. The 
 horses stretched themselves like coursed hares. More 
 than one man shouted aloud from mere tension of 
 nerves. 
 
 " The ditch ! Beware the ditch ! " shouted Cromwell 
 over his shoulder, and the Captains repeated the warning. 
 But strangely enough the squadrons passed it as if lifted 
 over by the mere impulse of their speed. Fifty yards 
 more — thirty — ten! And then the crash, when with a 
 noise which was heard all over the battle-field, the Iron- 
 sides flung themselves upon Rupert's battalions. 
 
 Thq first lines of the Prince's force had been planted 
 too near the ditch. There was no room for their horses 
 to gather way. But the Ironsides came upon them with 
 scarce diminished speed, rolled them up and cast th^ 
 back upon their supporting squadrons which in turn were 
 thrown into instant disorder. But Rupert had kept well 
 to the left with many unbroken regiments, and with his 
 usual audacity pushed a charge upon the head of Crom- 
 well's column. 
 
 But it did not seem to Hal that their advance was 
 much more difficult. The Ironsides, accustomed to 
 victory, continued to carry all before them. 
 
 Suddenly they saw Colonel Cromwell, whose sword 
 had been rising and falling like a flail on a threshing- 
 floor, bend forward and snatch at the pommel of his 
 saddle. Two Rhineland men had attacked him at once. 
 One he had killed, but the sword of the other had slipped 
 from his helmet and wounded him in the neck. Hal and 
 Zered were at once by his side. The Hog Laners opened 
 out and checked long enough to allow a handkerchief 
 which had served Hal as an arm badge to be tied round 
 Cromwell's neck. The wound proved nothing but a
 
 MARSTON MOOR 191 
 
 scratch, but the blow on the head had momentarily 
 beaten the leader down. 
 
 Nevertheless, the few seconds requisite for adjusting 
 the handkerchief caused a slackening, during which the 
 fate of the day hung in the balance. But the moment 
 that Cromwell was again seen erect in his saddle, the 
 Ironsides swept all before them " like a little dust." 
 
 " The Sword of the Lord ! " he shouted. 
 
 "And of Cromwell!" chorused the triumphant Iron- 
 sides as they chased the hitherto unconquered Rupertians 
 ofif the field. 
 
 In the centre, of which they could see nothing, the 
 Scots grimly gained ground little by little, but on the 
 right the army of the Fairfaxes had been utterly swept 
 away by the charge of Lord Goring's horse, which had 
 lain in wait for them as they struggled up by the narrow 
 lane which led through the wilderness of furze. 
 
 The wind from the south bore back the gunpowder 
 smoke, so that when Cromwell checked the pursuit to 
 face about he found himself quite unable to see his 
 whereabouts. He detached five hundred men to follow 
 up Rupert and see that he did not return. 
 
 Cromwell hesitated what he should do. To the right 
 and in the centre the enemy were evidently still unbroken, 
 for there was no pour of fugitives such as trickles back- 
 ward from an army which is getting the worst of it. He 
 took off his helmet and tried to fan away the smoke. 
 Hardly had he replaced it when out of the swirling reek, 
 limping and wounded, came a figure so black with smoke 
 and red with blood as to seem hardly human. 
 
 " They swept us away," it cried ; " they crushed us. 
 I have lost my father." 
 
 It was the younger Fairfax. 
 
 " Why, man, what has happened? " 
 
 " We were caught in the Moor Lane like mice in a 
 trap," young Fairfax answered. 
 
 " Who caught you ? "
 
 192 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " Goring's horse. They were all over us in a moment, 
 and now they are plundering the waggons." 
 
 " Come on," cried Cromwell, " give him a charger, 
 someone. Now do you lead us, and we will catch them 
 as they come back with their loot. Ha, whom have we 
 here — white on the left arm — our men then. Sir David, 
 I never was so glad to see you. Between us we shall 
 make this a great day for the Houses " 
 
 " And for Scotland," quoth Sir David Leslie drily, who 
 had with him the Scottish horse, the pick of his country- 
 men ; " we come from painting the Whitecoats red." 
 
 " Are they broken? " demanded Cromwell. 
 
 " They are dead to a man ! " said Leslie. 
 
 " God rest all gallant souls this day," said Cromwell. 
 " Now lead on, Tom, and we shall make a good end." 
 
 The reinforced Ironsides rode straight across the grim 
 tussle of the central battle where the three Scottish foot 
 regiments were standing firm, and pushing back Porter 
 and Eythin inch by inch, till they came to the head of 
 the lane where the Fairfaxes had been overwhelmed. 
 Goring's men were now returning laden with plunder, 
 riding easily with loosened rein, the battle being well 
 over for them, when like a thunderbolt Oliver fell upon 
 them, David Leslie at his elbow, Hal and Hog Lane, 
 Harry Cromwell and Slepe leading the onslaught. They 
 were taken unawares. They had not even time to draw 
 their swords. They were rolled over and over, pushed 
 out of the narrow lane and slaughtered among the gorse, 
 holding out in little knots, while Fairfax's vengeful mus- 
 kets had their turn. Few of them escaped, for the Iron- 
 sides were between them and the road to York. 
 
 So in the gathering gloom of that summer twilight 
 there was a long killing, done with full intent and purpose 
 — to break once and for all the King's power in the 
 North and to finish with it before the night should fall. 
 
 So Hog Lane, smiting and glorying, rolled the fight 
 up like a crimson carpet into the glowing west, so that
 
 MARSTON MOOR 193 
 
 only when darkness fell so black that friend could no 
 longer be distinguished from foe, did the fighting cease. 
 Bugles called here and there unheeded. Men picketed 
 their horses and cast themselves down in the darkness to 
 sleep, the living among the dead. But Hog Lane kept 
 watch and ward with Slepe and Downham and St. Neot's, 
 while on a piled " biggin " of peat, a formidable figure in 
 glancing armour and steel-capped head, his neck bound 
 in Hal's napkin, sat Colonel Cromwell, the conqueror of 
 Rupert, burnishing his bloody sword with tuft after tuft 
 of dry bent grass plucked at the hazard of his arm from 
 the trampled face of Marston Moor,
 
 XXI 
 
 A LITTLE ESCORT DUTY 
 
 LIEUTENANT-GENERAL CROMWELL was strid- 
 . ing up and down his office, biting his under Hp 
 and frowning, six steps and turn — six steps and 
 halt at the window, as if the empty clean-swept yard of 
 the Tithing House would bring him council. Save in the 
 presence of danger he made up his mind slowly. 
 
 Presently he turned sharply upon Hal Ludlow who 
 stood respectfully at the far side of the plain deal table, 
 ink-stained and knife-hacked like a school desk. 
 
 " I think it had better be so," he said. " You will 
 conduct my family to Danbury which my Lord has put 
 at my disposal. I myself shall be infinitely busy for some 
 time. The King's successes in the West are nothing to 
 the babbling fools at Westminster, and our own divided 
 counsels." 
 
 " I shall faithfully perform all your orders," said Hal, 
 feeling that he was speaking as one of the foolish, for the 
 thing was a matter of course. But the General's eyes 
 were fixed upon him with such intensity that he was 
 compelled to say something. To the spoken words 
 Cromwell paid no attention. It is unlikely that he even 
 heard, his mind being upon the battle he was to fight — 
 one that irked him more than the prospect of many 
 Long Marston charges. 
 
 " You will have Dame Cromwell and my four daugh- 
 ters — it is not likely that Grandam Bouchier will con- 
 sent to leave the Tithe House, but as to that, no matter — 
 the serving-maids look after her. The Lady Molly also 
 must go with you. I shall explain my wish to her, and 
 
 194
 
 A LITTLE ESCORT DUTY 195 
 
 Doctor Fisher hath been wearying me with a certain 
 Huguenot and his daughter, to whom my Lord hath 
 given employment." 
 
 " I know them, Jacques the Wassailer and Nefia la 
 Fain." This time Cromwell paid attention. 
 
 " Ah, you know them — how so ? " 
 
 " I took Doctor Roy Lorraine to the Frenchman, who 
 was in a fair way to die on Isle Jatte from marsh fever, 
 and the girl saved my life at Gedney Hill when we cap- 
 tured Dick Lucy." 
 
 The Lieutenant-General darted a look at Hal which 
 searched his soul, but the young captain's conscience 
 was so much at rest that he did not even observe the 
 scrutiny. Slowly Cromwell's eyes returned after taking 
 in Hal from head to foot, weighing his words and 
 peculiar usefulness, and laying out future work for him 
 to do. 
 
 He nodded his head with the grave sententiousness of 
 an elder. 
 
 " Look," he said, " you are now one of my senior 
 Captains and I look for an example. Let me tell you 
 that I have a service to be performed so difificult and 
 dangerous that whosoever satisfies me and returns alive 
 shall not have to wait for his colonelcy." 
 
 Hal flushed hotly. He had not dared to acknowledge 
 even to himself that this was his thought by day and 
 night. But he was loyal to those who had been loyal to 
 him. " I would rather," he said, " serve as Captain to 
 the Hog Lane Troop till the end of the war, than leave 
 them behind to command other troops who do not know 
 me " 
 
 " Ah, yes, I remember — ' under Captain Ludlow and 
 no other, with Colonel Cromwell and no other ' — I 
 know your articles of association. But pray remember, 
 young man, that the Parliament cannot be dictated to 
 twice." 
 
 " Nothing shall stand in the way of the service,
 
 196 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 sir," said Hal, " but I shall not do it for the reward's 
 sake." 
 
 He was in hopes that the General might there and then 
 tell him the nature of the service. Cromwell divined the 
 unspoken question and shook his head a little grimly 
 with the words, " All in good time, young man, when I 
 have need I will send for you. Then will be the time to 
 put spurs to your horse." 
 
 " Hereward needs no spurring, General," Hal said 
 proudly; " he is as keen as myself." 
 
 The procession which Hal conducted to Danbury, a 
 healthy spot within riding distance of Westminster, re- 
 sembled a royal progress. His father had offered his 
 own coach, a huge, unwieldy, but comfortable vehicle, 
 with wheels as broad as those of a wood merchant's 
 " jankar," and quite as roomy inside as an average cot- 
 tage. It was drawn by six stout horses, while as many 
 more could be attached by chains and cordage in bogs 
 and sloughs, or where the hills were steep and difficult. 
 
 Hal detached Loud Tom Christopher with his Boreham 
 following to ride on ahead and make arrangements for 
 shelter and provisions along the road. Hal went slowly, 
 not more than twelve or fifteen miles in a day, because 
 Dame Cromwell, no hardened traveller, was unhappy 
 without her honest three meals a day, and what was 
 sometimes more difficult to obtain — quiet for a siesta 
 of an hour in the afternoon. 
 
 Hal solved this last difficulty by constructing a plank 
 couch within the coach, requisitioning a feather bed, and 
 setting a guard — a duty which was popular enough, for 
 Dame Cromwell always woke up in her most pleasant 
 and generous mood. And the well-advised youth of Hog 
 Lane, though they freely gave their lives for the husband, 
 were not above accepting a little of the wife's money. 
 Moreover, they earned it. For the road, roughly mended 
 with masses of earth and stone and even trunks of trees,
 
 A LITTrE ESCORT DUTY 197 
 
 often taxed the united skill of Hog Lane to conduct their 
 charge to the next stopping-place. 
 
 Dame Cromwell kept Bridget and the little girls with 
 her in the coach, but Lady Molly, who had had experi- 
 ence, refused to set foot within, and as she could not be 
 left quite alone among the troop, Mistress Bess, nothing 
 loath, was told off to ride with her. 
 
 Never had late August been more magnificent. The 
 still hot days, resplendent with sunshine, but cooled by a 
 slight breeze out of the north, succeeded each other day 
 after day and week after week. 
 
 In the Parliament army it was called " Marston Moor 
 weather," and sometimes " Rupert's bane." 
 
 In the rear of the cavalcade, as humbly and as unob- 
 trusively as possible, Jacques the Wassailer rode a cream- 
 coloured pony which had been given to him by Doctor 
 Peter Fisher, along with a copy of Calvin's Institutions 
 printed in the French language. The theologian accom- 
 panied the whole with so detailed and rigorously logical 
 a Benediction that Bess Cromwell (who heard it) said 
 that it might well provide even the Almighty Himself 
 with matter for consideration at His leisure. 
 
 Had this speech been repeated to the young lady's 
 father it is probable that she would have remained upon 
 bread and water in her chamber at the Tithe House 
 instead of trotting on ahead of the troop with hair 
 streaming in the wind, tempting Lady Molly to similar 
 follies. 
 
 Hal often dropped behind to see the Wassailer, for he 
 was no respecter of persons (a certain Oliver Cromwell 
 excepted). He loved the old man's rambling talk of 
 white limestone hills, scented with thyme and romarin, 
 of wondrous high heavens sweltering in light, a world 
 still, blue, and mild, the sea one sapphire, and all day 
 and every day the cool wind at its appointed hour singing 
 arnong the cordages. It was good hearing, and the 
 home-keeping Hal, all whose life had been love and war,
 
 198 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 with some taste of books from his brief days at college, 
 set himself to picture the wild sea-board of Provenge 
 which (said the Wassailer) was Italian or Spanish — and 
 still more African — anything indeed but French. 
 
 " But you are French? " Hal objected. 
 
 " I speak French, but I am Latin by race, and French 
 is not my mother tongue, but another richer and better 
 for those who understand it, as all do between Genoa 
 and Barcelona, whether they be Catalans, Provengals, 
 or Ligurians." 
 
 Hal with a natural (as well as a cultivated) taste in 
 feminine beauty listened while he watched Nefia la Fain 
 managing a wild troop horse, sitting astride the saddle, 
 booted and spurred, wearing the red coat and white 
 badge of the Eastern Association and armed at all points 
 like one of the Hog Lane Troop. 
 
 Somehow she had managed to make good interest with 
 Zered who winked at the masquerade, and Hog Lane, in 
 consideration of the high Puritan standing of the Was- 
 sailer and also agreeing in the main with Milton as to the 
 flighty irresponsibility of women, permitted her to follow 
 the troop with an indifference which was almost con- 
 temptuous. 
 
 Nefia however had a serious purpose in thus arraying 
 herself. She knew that the uniform of his troop was dear 
 to the heart of Captain Hal and she judged, not without 
 cause, that it would give him pleasure to see her wearing 
 the badges of his corps in which she had, hov/ever irregu- 
 larly, early enrolled herself. 
 
 Of course Hal would not have suffered such a thing in 
 Ely, or where Hog Lane had to range with other troops. 
 But out on the open road, with nothing to do but escort 
 ladies, the matter was altogether dififerent. The figure 
 of the young girl took on a new beauty. She rode better 
 than scout-master Wishart — almost as well, he admitted, 
 as he rode himself, which was no slight thing for Master 
 Hal to allow.
 
 A LITTLE ESCORT DUTY 199 
 
 It was moreover, he owned, a pleasant sight, and 
 together with the conversation, always instructive and 
 agreeable of Jacques the Wassailer, brought Captain Hal 
 Ludlow very often to the rear of his cavalcade, especially 
 on long up grades, where trace horses were put to, and 
 the men dismounting, eased girths, loosened straps, and 
 walked for three-quarters of an hour or more to rest 
 their horses. At such times Hal would often put Here- 
 ward under charge of his groom and walk between the 
 small-booted foot with its silver spur (his own contribu- 
 tion) and the Wassailer 's cream-coloured pony. He 
 talked so frankly that Nefia would laugh heartily and then 
 be astonished at the sound of her own voice. She had 
 attracted his attention, and, wonder of wonders, he was 
 talking to her as gaily as he ever did with Mistress Bess 
 Cromwell or the Lady Molly. 
 
 She began to tell herself fairy stories. She was still 
 the little gipsy girl abandoned by the gipsies, but some- 
 how or other (her mind glided lightly over particulars) 
 she had become a fairy princess. She had delivered a 
 fairy prince and now that prince, in gladness and grati- 
 tude, was walking bareheaded by her bridle-rein. Then 
 Nefia would swing her foot over, smooth down her brief 
 kirtle, and for the space of a mile or two (as long as 
 Captain Hal remained by her side), she would ride as 
 became a princess of the ancient house of Bois Dor- 
 mant guarding the litter of True Thomas and attended 
 by an exceedingly hard-featured troop of elves and fays 
 all in steel " pots " and the red coats of the Eastern 
 Association. 
 
 When Captain Hal talked to True Thomas (that is, to 
 the Wassailer), Nefia liked it quite as well as when he 
 told her stories of the herding and sweeping operations 
 of South Lincolnshire when he rid that district of the 
 Candishers. 
 
 For when he talked to the Wassailer, she had time to 
 continue her tales to herself. She imagined conversa-
 
 200 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 tions such as she had read in books, but decided very soon 
 that her fairy prince would not throw himself at her feet 
 and cry, " My life, fortune, and crown are thine, most 
 adorable Princess ! " She had heard with what sharp- 
 ness he had chid Bess Cromwell and the Lady Molly 
 for riding too far ahead, and she recognised that it was 
 thus that a man ought to speak. She liked it better so, 
 and she made her horse curvet and rear, she even put 
 him to a gallop, swung him round and reined up again 
 beside the slow-padding ministerial pony which carried 
 True Thomas, with a kind of wilful defiance in her man- 
 ner, at once defiant and provocative. But Captain Hal 
 only watched her with an expression of amusement and 
 the desired reprimand did not come. 
 
 Still she was content, for each time that he rode away 
 to take the head of the column and assure himself of the 
 well-being of Dame Cromwell and her brood drowsing 
 and jolting inside the richly padded coach of the Parlia- 
 mentary Commissioner, she repeated over and over to 
 herself, " He has found me, I am no longer alone — my 
 prince — my prince 1 " 
 
 The incidents of the route amused Neiia, and to these 
 she adapted herself with admirable readiness, for she was 
 a true daughter of the road. 
 
 The scattering of the King's forces in the North and 
 the Draconian laws enforced within London city had 
 brought out a great many plunderers who watched for 
 ill-guarded coaches and weak bands of merchants. The 
 Essex marshes where the road from Cambridge passed 
 southward harboured many of these, and gave occasion 
 to an incident, often afterwards told in Hog Lane and 
 throughout all the north bounds of Essex with applause 
 and glee. 
 
 It chanced one rare fine day towards eventide that the 
 cavalcade had come to a long and difficult ascent a few 
 leagues from Maldon, Hal had ordered a half-dozen 
 men to strip and corduroy the road with branches and
 
 A LITTLE ESCORT DUTY 201 
 
 brushwood, before attempting the long pull up the slope. 
 Then he had allowed the rest of Hog Lane to dismount 
 in one of the sunk roads common to the neighbourhood, 
 where they sat down each man by his horse's bridle and 
 shared the provender they had brought with them. Now 
 the sunk road chanced to be within eye-shot of an out- 
 post of the Maltover Troop (captained by Guy Maltover, 
 a deserter from Lord Essex's horse). The coach was a 
 large one and in manifest difficulties. The men in the 
 grey shirts who were labouring with rope and mattock 
 were evidently peasants and would run at the first alarm. 
 There were rich ladies on fine horses, and some great 
 moneyed magnate would doubtless pay dear to get them 
 back. 
 
 " Come on, then, Maltover men, Standerton men — all 
 who love loot or love a lass ! " So from the shadow of 
 the woods where they had lain all day in hiding, sucking 
 straws and eating wild berries, the Maltover gang came 
 down yelling. They hooted, thereby meaning to put to 
 flight the yokels at the trace ropes. A few bullets would 
 settle the outriders, and that great coach, the finest ever 
 seen on the Marshes, packed with riches and ransomable 
 grandees, was their own. They arrived in a whirlwind 
 of noise and pother, Guy the renegade at their head. 
 
 The coach was surrounded. A huge hairy varlet had 
 his fingers on the handle and was feasting his eyes on the 
 ladies and children within. He reached over to snatch a 
 bag which Dame Cromwell had kept upon her knees, but 
 at that moment, out of nowhere in particular, armed 
 Ironsides in full panoply rode them down before they had 
 time to turn their horses. Hog Lane gave no quarter to 
 these plundering wretches, and though they were not 
 half their numbers, when they pulled up to return to- 
 wards the coach, Maltover and Standerton had ceased 
 to exist. Renegade captain and cruel lieutenant lay on 
 the ground, honourably cleft by the steel which had 
 chased Rupert across the moor of Long Marston.
 
 202 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Hog Lane laughed. For the idea of a gang of cut- 
 throat plunderers of their own free will charging a full 
 troop of seasoned Ironsides seemed to them humorous 
 beyond measure. But Hal and Zered bade the girls ride 
 on and keep their horses near the coach windows on 
 either side till they had left behind the scattered relics 
 of miscellaneous rascaldom which bore too eloquent 
 witness to the power of the Puritan sword-arm. 
 
 Such was the adventure of the Sunken Road, long a 
 merry jest among the Roundheads, but somewhat less so 
 to the slashed and haggard survivors of the renegade's 
 band, who painfully dragged themselves into various 
 woods and shelters, a very few to get well and plunder 
 anew, but most to die of cold and exposure. For Hog 
 Lane had fulfilled the Scripture by making the way of 
 transgressors hard indeed.
 
 XXII 
 WITHOUT ARE WOLVES 
 
 THEY were approaching Danbury, and Hal was 
 riding in front with Lady Molly and Elizabeth 
 Cromwell, when from the gate of the Barns of 
 Boreham an escort of well-mounted and equipped gentle- 
 men rode out to meet them. 
 
 My Lord Woodham Walter had taken some pains to 
 have the best blood of Essex there to welcome his some- 
 time prodigal daughter back to a reorganised and purified 
 Danbury. 
 
 Young Walter Barrington, son of the county member 
 and a most promising youth, had given three long weeks 
 to undoing the work of old Hepburn, the Scots engineer. 
 Ditches had been filled up and planted. Earthworks 
 levelled and made into gravel walks. He had brought 
 many thousands of plants from his father's nurseries at 
 Colchester. A score of the finest young men of the shire, 
 all of ancient family and agreeable person, had come out 
 with my Lord Woodham Walter to bring home his 
 daughter and to welcome the wife and daughters of the 
 new Parliamentary General, whom Marston Moor had 
 made the idol of one half of England and the bogey of 
 the rest. 
 
 Hal Ludlow, after a brief salute to my Lord, fell back 
 to his troop. His steel cap and war-worn uniform were 
 more in place there, and he left the presentations and 
 pretty speeches to be made without him. 
 
 Doubtless something of jealousy mixed with this 
 abstemiousness, but there was in it something noble as 
 well. Why were there here so many bold young men who 
 
 203
 
 204? HAL O' THE IRONSmES 
 
 might be organising, commanding companies and troops, 
 merely riding at ease, tricked out and befeathered like 
 so many idle cavaliers? 
 
 He vented this bitter feeling upon Zered, who, as was 
 usual with him, had an answer ready. 
 
 " Not at all surprising," said Zered Tuby, in that 
 keen, high-pitched preaching voice which had carried 
 conviction during his anti-Zachary crusade in the old 
 Hog Lane. " Do you not see, Captain, that in these 
 counties, and I suppose everywhere except in Lancashire 
 and the West, the Parliament, disposing of money and 
 favours, took over the official, his sons and his nephews, 
 his ox and his ass, and everything that was his." 
 
 " I know," said Hal, peevishly enough, " but look at 
 these fellows. Why, Colonel Cromwell, with a month's 
 drill, could make an excellent troop of them — of all, that 
 is, whom he had not hanged or sent home. And what 
 good are they now? They cannot sit on committee and 
 advise. They are too young for Parliament, even sup- 
 posing their fathers did not block the way. Yet they are 
 tall young fellows who, if they were of the King's party, 
 would be captains under Hopeton, or better still privates 
 in Rupert's horse?" 
 
 No wonder Hal regarded the laughing group about 
 Lady Molly with sullen and malevolent eye. 
 
 " I wish I had these same pretty gentlemen in my 
 company," he growled ; " I could find them other em- 
 ployment for their leisure moments." 
 
 Zered knew well enough that his officer had been 
 " broken " while in the Slepe Troop for *' petticoating " — 
 indeed, what was there which could long remain un- 
 known in such a close commonwealth as the original 
 " Tawny," or Ironside companies? But he allowed noth- 
 ing of his secret amusement to appear on his countenance. 
 He merely continued his explanation more posedly than 
 before. 
 
 " Official class propagates officials," Zered's eyes were
 
 WITHOUT ARE WOLVES 205 
 
 less complimentary than his tongue, " so you must not 
 blame them if, while waiting for dead men's shoes, they 
 flaunt their town-bought finery somewhat too garishly." 
 
 " But if they are town bred and official born, I more ! " 
 broke in Hal, unsatisfied and truculent, " What are these 
 little justices and district committee men to my father, 
 for twenty years adviser to the Exchequer and Clerk of 
 Requests? HI could fight, so surely can they! " 
 
 And Captain Hal showed his ill-humour by a tug at the 
 reins, which pampered Hereward at once resented by 
 lashing out behind. 
 
 " Easy, my Captain," said Zered soothingly ; " all 
 )^oung roosters cannot grow spurs and become cocks of 
 the main. But here comes my Lord." 
 
 Hal saluted the great man with respect. He was his 
 father's friend, and, what had still greater weight, he was 
 Lady Molly's father. 
 
 " Why, sir, have your Marston Moors laurels made 
 you so bashful that you will not wait to receive our 
 thanks?" 
 
 " I thought, my Lord," said Hal readily, " that you 
 and your friends might wish to inspect the Seventh 
 Troop." And he wheeled Hereward, so that my Lord 
 might have a good look at the steadfast front of Hog 
 Lane, which Zered had drawn out in array of battle. 
 Very grim and dour looked Hog Lane under the gaze 
 of the Peer of Parliament and his finely attired com- 
 pany. 
 
 " I would little like to meet them when their blood is 
 up," said my Lord, thinking to show himself compli- 
 mentary. But Hal, who at that moment could take 
 nothing well, answered that perhaps Hog Lane was most 
 to be dreaded when most humorous. Whereupon he 
 related the story of the renegade and his attack upon the 
 coach. Hal did not tell the story well. He was too 
 sulky, but his very sulks gave pith and dourness to the 
 facts.
 
 206 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " Rob the Ironsides ! " cried my Lord, clapping his 
 hands. " What will Speaker Lenthall and Dr. Prynne 
 say — a hundred rake-hells knaves to cry, ' Stand and 
 deliver ' to the veterans of Marston Moor ! I hope you 
 have brought them to us — your prisoners, I mean. There 
 are several justices of the peace present to-day, and we 
 can empanel a jury." 
 
 Hal stared with a bewildered expression at the man. 
 Could he be jesting? But my Lord called two of the 
 local squires. Cook and Calthrop. 
 
 " You will act with me — it seems there are some 
 rascals to try." And he glanced towards Jacques the 
 Wassailer and Neha la Fain, waiting patiently in the 
 rear of the troop. My Lord Woodham Walter told his 
 two friends of the renegade's mistake, and they also 
 laughed, though not so heartily, for they resented the 
 coming of General Cromwell's men into their county as 
 a kind of coercion. 
 
 " Essex money for Essex men " had been their answer 
 once when Colonel Cromwell had asked them for their 
 share of the subscriptions due from the seven Associated 
 Counties. 
 
 " Wait a little till I come," Cromwell had retorted, 
 " and I shall take Essex men and Essex money 
 too." 
 
 They feared that that time had come. 
 
 Lord Woodham Walter waved his hand with the large 
 gesture he used when leading the House of Lords. 
 
 "Let us see your rascals," he said. " I caught just a 
 glimpse of them, but I would fain speak with them face 
 to face. Such daring knaves one does not meet with 
 every day ! " 
 
 " There are no prisoners," said Captain Hal, a trifle 
 impatiently. " The Seventh Troop does not take prison- 
 ers of that class. You will find the rascals over yonder 
 in the bottom of the valley and scattered along the slopes 
 of Sunk Lane Hill. But they are in no state to be tried
 
 WITHOUT ARE WOLVES 207 
 
 by jury. Not one of them could plead — no, not before 
 a Committee of both Houses." 
 
 A clang of bitter irony had in spite of himself crept into 
 Hal Ludlow's speech, and the peer started at the sound. 
 It was the first authentic ring of the new spirit of justice 
 by armed force which was to end the lies of Charles at 
 Oxford, and clear Westminster Hall of the plague of 
 vain babblers which already had begun to infest it. 
 
 " For God's sake, Hal, you don't mean to tell me that 
 you slaughtered them all in cold blood without a trial ? " 
 
 " They had had a good trial — of strength," said Hal 
 grimly, " and all that I regretted was the waste of good 
 cut-and-thrust on such paltry rascals." 
 
 " I presume you had your orders," said my Lord, 
 " otherwise you took a somewhat serious responsibility 
 upon yourself." 
 
 " That I am quite willing to take," said Hal, with the 
 same irritating ring of authority which had grated on the 
 peer's respect for law-and-order. " General Cromwell 
 sent me hither to assume responsibility." 
 
 My Lord turned sharply and rode away, muttering to 
 himself, " Cromwell and his Captains take a great deal 
 too much upon themselves. If we do not look to it, they 
 will put us all under foot — Lords, Commons, and Civil 
 
 powers 
 
 And though he did not at the time believe it himself 
 he never spoke a truer word. 
 
 When the cavalcade arrived at Danbury Towers, the 
 retainers of my Lord were turned out to welcome his 
 guests — among whom, however, he did not appear to 
 number Hal and his company of Hog Laners. Dame 
 Elizabeth was received in front of the gates by an ele- 
 gantly equipped guard in lace cloaks, velvet knee- 
 breeches of my Lord's colours (vermilion and puce), and 
 what provoked the secret laughter of Hog Lane, dress 
 swords at their sides in velvet scabbards.
 
 208 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 The Ironsides were evidently expected to go no further. 
 
 " We are my Lord's guards," said a young man, scented 
 and ringleted like a girl ; " you can have no passage 
 here." 
 
 " We are come by General Cromwell's orders to be 
 responsible for the defence of the place, and of the ladies 
 whom we have brought hither. Deny us at your peril ! " 
 
 Hal's voice rang out dangerously. He was not in a 
 pretty humour, and a curious chill traversed the marrow 
 of the fine young man with the velvet-sheathed sword of 
 office set so sprucely at his side. He was the son of a 
 rich city merchant to whom the exchequer had more 
 than once been much beholden. 
 
 " Take care what you do," said the young man. " I 
 would have you know that I am my Lord Woodham 
 Walter's secretary ! " 
 
 " Forward there, Seventh," said Hal, " and do you, 
 Mr. Secretary, come with me. If you stay you may get 
 hurt." 
 
 So Hog Lane defiled two by two into the gate of the 
 Towers, and soon filled the courtyard with the clangour 
 of champing bits and ironshod hoofs. The delicately 
 attired young men who had challenged their right of way 
 had been driven against the wall by the mere scour of 
 the running tide. 
 
 *' Now find me stabling for my horses, and sleeping 
 accommodation for my men ! " commanded Captain Hal. 
 " Your master? I will charge myself with your master — 
 only as you value your neck, do as I bid you now ! " 
 
 *' I know not a great deal about this matter," said the 
 perplexed youth, who wished himself safe back in the 
 offices of Whitehall ; " the grooms have always attended 
 to such things." 
 
 " Then call a groom," thundered Hal, " my men can- 
 not wait all night while my Lord's underlings find their 
 wits. Ho, there, a groom, I say ! " 
 
 What might have happened it is difficult to imagine,
 
 WITHOUT ARE WOLVES 209 
 
 if Alured Promise had not slipped from his saddle and 
 run like a terrier which tries one rat-hole after another in 
 the ranges of stabling. At last he brought out an ancient 
 man in withered moleskins, bespattered from head to 
 heel. 
 
 " Ah," cried Hal, " we have left behind the velvet and 
 dress-swords, the bow-knots and the ribbands. So much 
 the better. We shall chance to get some sense out of this 
 fellow. Now, Gaffer, show us the best stables." 
 
 " They be all filled with gentlemen's fine horses," said 
 the old man, but he led the way notwithstanding. Hal 
 glanced within. He knew that four hundred horses 
 had been stabled at Danbury Towers in the days of 
 Rupert and the Brown Octobers. 
 
 " Show me the cavalry quarters, sirrah," said Hal, 
 " where the Prince's men put up their horses." 
 
 " Lord now, what be oi thinkin' upon," said the old 
 man, slapping his knee ; " of course, being soldier-men — 
 'tis the great bam ye are seeking. Brave comfortable 
 quarters be the great barn — yes, yes, as ever was." 
 
 So the doors of the great barn were thrown open and 
 there were the rough mangers, the whitewashed walls, 
 the huge fodder racks leading from the lofts above, and 
 the tiles laid down for sluicing purposes on either side. 
 
 "Make yourselves comfortable, lads," Hal called out; 
 " this is good enough for us." He had just come down 
 the ladder from the loft. " With excellent bedroom 
 accommodation above stairs ! " 
 
 And he went off to arrange about supplies. 
 
 He was passing through the court when my Lord 
 Woodham Walter looked out of a first-floor window. 
 His face was flushed and angry and he spoke hastily, his 
 words tumbling over each other. The secretary had been 
 talking to him. 
 
 " Go away, I cannot have you here," he shouted ; 
 " get away at once. You will find quarters for the night 
 at Boreham Barns."
 
 210 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " Sir," said Hal coolly, " I do not discuss my instruc- 
 tions by bawling through windows. All I have to say is 
 that I call upon you in General Cromwell's name to 
 supply me with three cooked meals a day for fifty-three 
 men, for which I shall give you daily a requisition in the 
 morning and a quittance in the evening." 
 
 Which having said, he went about his business. 
 
 The Hog Laners made themselves as comfortable as 
 possible, chatting outside upon the well-kerb and scat- 
 tered about wooden benches. As the twilight deepened 
 they saw the lights being kindled in the banqueting hall 
 which ran along one entire side of the court. My Lord 
 was entertaining a great company to dinner. And Hog 
 Lane noted with surprise and indignation that its Captain 
 had not been invited. 
 
 They waited, however, patiently for their own supper, 
 content that the great folks should be served before 
 them, but jealous also for the honourable standing of 
 their leader, and prepared to back him in any quarrel 
 which might arise. 
 
 Hal paced to and fro in front of the great barn, be- 
 tween the winnowing floor at the windy south-east cor- 
 ner and the great door of the faggot-house where the 
 winter fuel was beginning to be stored. 
 
 He raged incessantly, sometimes in speeches which 
 would have cost a man of the troop the statutory twelve- 
 pence a word. But Zered, who alone heard, was far too 
 anxious to quiet ,him to pay any attention to oaths, 
 either broad or minced. 
 
 " Let me go," he pleaded ; " no man in anger is fit to 
 carry out a delicate negotiation. If it were not for the 
 ladies, I would leave it to you. But remember our 
 General's wife and four daughters are here, besides there 
 is my Lady Molly " 
 
 " I care not," interrupted Hal, who was indeed hardly 
 responsible for his words or actions ; " I want provender 
 for my men. I have asked for it in my General's name.
 
 WITHOUT ARE WOLVES 211 
 
 I have waited two hours, and I tell you, Zered Tuby, I 
 shall wait no longer. I will see my Lord and demand 
 an explanation, if we have to force the doors with musket 
 butts." 
 
 " Captain," said Zered soothingly, " we all love you 
 and will follow you through hotter places than the Moor 
 Lane at Long Marston. You can depend on the Seventh 
 Troop, but you also must trust it, and yet more you must 
 trust a grizzled old fellow who loves you. There must be 
 no brawling before the ladies. It would do us small 
 honour. Let me take a dozen men unarmed, and I war- 
 rant you I shall bring back supper for all the troop." 
 
 Zered had his way. He chose with care a dozen of the 
 spriteliest and most active of the young men, as carefully 
 pruned them of their helmets, breastplates, and weapons, 
 whispered some private instructions, and disappeared in 
 the direction of the kitchen. 
 
 Here he found the cooks, as he reported afterwards, 
 " In a prodigious pother." Men and boys hasting to and 
 fro from the banqueting rooms kept the place in a 
 clamour. "For the High Table! For the Long! For 
 the Cross ! For the Gentlemen-in- Waiting ! " they cried, 
 sometimes snatching dishes to which they had no right 
 out of the cooks' very hands. Zered, undertaking the 
 policing of this turmoil, cried, " Stand back there — ^faces 
 to the wall — all except the servants of the High 
 Table ! " 
 
 And to emphasise his order he made his scabbard ring 
 on the stone floor — for he alone had kept his full equip- 
 ment. 
 
 The London valets and drawers obeyed mechanically. 
 They stood with their noses to the wall, studying the 
 whitewash most attentively. 
 
 " Now when you are ready, Cook, serve for the High 
 Table!" 
 
 The waiters rushed to seize the dishes where, on the 
 long service tables, roast and stew, beef, mutton, venison
 
 212 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 pasty, and fowls both wild and tame were planted down 
 in smoking rows. 
 
 " Now, lads, let us see you march — Alured, ready with 
 the lantern — the others help yourselves from the fork 
 basket." 
 
 Hog Lane armed itself with that highly persuasive 
 instrument, a two-pronged fork, 
 
 " Face about there. Take up the dishes and follow 
 the lantern-bearer out at the kitchen door." 
 
 A few turned in the direction of the stairs which led to 
 the banqueting hall, but the forks in the willing hands 
 of Hog Lane soon brought them back to the right way. 
 
 The meats, thus borne out in triumph, were served 
 under the soft glow of the stars upon the benches in 
 front of the great barn, and Hog Lane rejoiced, though 
 it drank only pure water drawn from the well by the 
 strength of its own arms. While at the Great Table aloft 
 knives clattered and tongues wagged as the viands dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 But the Middle, Cross, and Gentlemen's Hall tables sat 
 glum and silent, wondering when they were going to be 
 served.
 
 XXIII 
 GREAT PAINS TO LITTLE PURPOSE 
 
 BUT the next day it became evident that the disHke 
 of my Lord Woodham Waher extended no farther 
 than the Captain of the Seventh Troop. He sent 
 a couple of foresters to conduct the Wassailer and his 
 daughter to Osea Island. Breakfast, also, was brought 
 out and set upon tables improvised in the court. A 
 youUg marmiton (or kitchen servitor) in flat white cap 
 of linen, white smock to his knees and wide French 
 " slops," directed the manceuvres. 
 
 To him Hal paid no attention, engrossed in writing a 
 letter to Cromwell which he knew must be sent off at 
 once. From this task he was presently distracted by the 
 coming of the Wassailer and Nefia la Fain. They were 
 setting out for Osea Island, and there Hal, in order to 
 have peace to finish his letter, promised to visit them as 
 soon as he was settled in his quarters. 
 
 After the Wassailer had mounted his cream-coloured 
 pony and ridden away with the foresters, Neha tarried 
 behind. Hal fidgeted, pen in hand. At last the girl 
 broke silence. 
 
 " She does it pretty poorly," she said, pointing to the 
 white-bonneted " marmiton," under whose orders the 
 scullions were clearing the tables after breakfast. 
 
 "Eh, what is that you say?" exclaimed Hal, turning 
 bewildered eyes in the direction of Neha's pointing finger. 
 
 " You do not mean you do not know that the Lady 
 Molly has come among your men in masquerade ! How 
 blind men are! Do you not see how she has her hair 
 turned up under her cap behind, and then her figure, that 
 
 213
 
 214. HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 is never a boy's figure. It would not deceive any woman 
 for a moment. Now when I ride as a boy, neither man 
 nor woman shall be able to tell the difference." And she 
 followed her adopted father without once turning her 
 head or crying adieu. 
 
 Yes, now when he came to notice, the slim youth in the 
 kitchener's whites was without doubt the Lady Molly. 
 
 Hal's humour was instantly restored. He threw his 
 pen on the table, slipped the unfinished letter into the 
 case which contained the troop papers, and strode across 
 the yard to thank such a benefactress. 
 
 " Lady Molly," he said, more ceremoniously than was 
 his wont, " I did not perceive your presence amongst us 
 till this moment. Though the costume is no suitable one 
 for your father's daughter, I owe you my best thanks." 
 
 " Oh, the ingratitude of man ! Now I think it is rather 
 pretty." She held out a small white-sandalled foot, 
 above which the ill-fitting slops showed a few inches of 
 shapely ankle. 
 
 "Pretty enough," said Captain Hal, softening; "but 
 if your father knew, Molly, what would he say ? " 
 
 " He would have me locked in my room. The key 
 would be in his pocket, and you would be gaily doing 
 without breakfast ! " 
 
 " But some of these underlings will be sure to tell him 
 — if only to curry favour! " 
 
 " I do not think so," said Lady Molly ; " the others 
 would trample the life out of any tale-bearer. I am, 
 you see, somewhat popular among them." 
 
 " So I see," said Hal gravely ; " but are we to have no 
 food save what you manage to procure us by opening the 
 buttery?" 
 
 " Oh, no, you are to have enough till a messenger can 
 get back from General Cromwell." 
 
 " From General Cromwell ! " 
 
 " Yes, he left early this morning, carrying letters from 
 Dame Elizabeth and one from my father, asking for your
 
 GREAT PAINS TO LITTLE PURPOSE 215 
 
 recall. I saw it. I looked over his shoulder when he was 
 writing." 
 
 " You are entirely capable of it," said Hal. 
 
 " Be thankful then," retorted Molly ; " your attitude, 
 let me tell you, is neither grateful nor becoming. But, 
 it is entirely v/hat I should have expected of Mr. Senor 
 Captain Ludlow ! " 
 
 She gave her marmiton's broad, flat bonnet a saucy 
 cock, and strutted away in a transport of righteous in- 
 dignation. But midway she turned, and running back to 
 him she caught him by the embroidered sleeve. 
 
 " Hal," she said, " if I were you I would send someone 
 to Ely who could get there before young Calthrop ! " 
 
 " Thank you, Molly," said Hal. " Indeed, I am very 
 much of your mind." 
 
 " But we are not friends for all that," she explained, 
 " so do not imagine it." 
 
 " I shall keep my imagination in check," he said 
 calmly; "and now if you will kindly be gone, I shall 
 finish my letter." 
 
 " Brute ! " said Lady Molly, and went within. 
 
 In half an hour Zered, with an escort of two men, was 
 riding towards the North. At first Hal had been un- 
 willing to let him go. But Zered soon showed him that it 
 would be wiser to send someone who could answer the 
 General's questions — someone who knew all that had 
 taken place, who knew how well Hog Lane had conducted 
 itself — how their Captain had dealt with the Renegade 
 and his band, and how entirely without excuse a quarrel 
 had been forced upon him by my Lord. To this reasoning 
 Hal could not but yield, especially as he knew that of all 
 the Hog Laners no one but Zered would be able to speak 
 to Cromwell. And even Zered Tuby admitted that it 
 thickened a man's tongue and dried the back of his 
 throat when the Colonel turned his eyes full and looked 
 you through, body and soul. 
 
 Still, Zered was a man of courage and Hal left him
 
 216 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 free to plead his cause as he judged best. He had good 
 reason for trusting Zered. The Lieutenant of the Hog 
 Lane Troop reached Ely Tithe House eleven hours before 
 my Lord's man came jogging in, and long before that 
 Cromwell knew the story of the rupture in its minutest 
 details. He wrote a letter to his Captain which contained 
 no word of blame, and indeed as much praise as he ever 
 bestowed. " I am glad to know that you acted wisely 
 and promptly in the matter of the Renegadoes, as well as 
 in other things. While my Lord Woodham remains, 
 leave a small party in his house, and occupy yourself with 
 the defence of Maldon harbour and Osea Island. I send 
 you a requisition for supplies and tools, also for men to 
 dig, to be given to the Mayor and Councilmen. For 
 the payment of necessities bid them look to me. Spend 
 nothing but what is needful — of that I need not warn you. 
 For, as you know, money is harder to come by than men 
 or arms, and I will send down Sam Squire, my assessor, 
 to see that you are not cheated." 
 
 " Captain Hal Ludlow is a brave and most useful offi- 
 cer," General Cromwell wrote to my Lord. " I have 
 no fault to find with his conduct, and any private griev- 
 ance you may have with him will be sufficiently removed 
 by my sending him to lodge in Maldon, where he will 
 busy himself with the defences of the port and adjacent 
 island. A section of his men only will remain at your 
 charge, as I cannot allow such a strength as Danbury 
 Towers, so lately defended against us, to be completely 
 without garrison. I trust to see you at Westminster dur- 
 ing the week when I will again thank you for your 
 kindness to my family. 
 
 " Your faithful servitor, 
 
 " Oliver Cromwell." 
 
 " The man is little better than a sectary and an Ana- 
 baptist himself," growled my Lord. " So that a man
 
 GREAT PAINS TO LITTLE PURPOSE 217 
 
 be a good soldier and useful to him, he cares not for 
 remonstrances from the whole body of peers." 
 
 In saying which my Lord was entirely within the facts. 
 Hal Ludlow's value to the organiser of the Ironsides was 
 entirely personal. He would have risen just as high if 
 he had been a " homespun " Captain, who (as smart 
 young men in Westminster Hall jested) were "filling 
 dung-carts this time last year." A man's value was his 
 fighting value, his obedience, his initiative, his readiness 
 to take responsibility. To be his Excellency the Chief 
 Commissioner's son was no assistance to a man in Colonel 
 Cromwell's regiments, but then neither was it any draw- 
 back. 
 
 It did not take Hal Ludlow long to make his disposi- 
 tions. He left Sergeant Pascal and Corporal Royds at the 
 Towers with ten men to mount guard and report to him 
 daily at Maldon. Pascal was an excellent steady fellow, 
 and nothing was known as to the treachery of Doe Royds. 
 He was, indeed, accounted sullen, but he had conducted 
 himself bravely when it came to blows, had steadied the 
 charge when Rupert attacked at Marston Moor, and 
 though little accounted of by Hog Lane was understood 
 to merit his rank. Like his General, Hal took a man at 
 his fighting value, but not always with Cromwell's long- 
 sightedness. For with Cromwell " fighting value " meant 
 all-round serviceableness to the Cause, not mere strength 
 of arm when steel clashed against steel — though that had 
 its value also, especially in a soldier of the troop. These 
 two were to keep camp week about with the Osea engi- 
 neers and the garrison of Maldon. 
 
 The Maldoners had suffered much from the raids of 
 the King's garrison while Lady Molly kept the royal flag 
 flying. They therefore took a more serious view of the 
 situation than their neighbours, being within an easy 
 half-hour's ride of the castle gate. 
 
 The experience had been amusing for Lady Molly, no 
 doubt, but not so much for the merchants and forage
 
 218 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 sellers whose cellars and stockyards had been pillaged. 
 Now they counted on Lady Molly to speak a word to her 
 father on their behalf, but my Lord had refused to grant 
 them the least remission. 
 
 " After all," said my Lord, " it is your own fault, 
 Essex is a backward shire. You should have raised a 
 couple of thousand horsemen as Colonel Cromwell hath 
 done in Cambridgeshire." 
 
 " Very well said, my Lord," said Mayor Staines, of 
 Maldon Wester ; " but where are we to find our Crom- 
 well? I have not heard of two." 
 
 " No," said my Lord, " and I doubt if all England 
 could hold two." 
 
 Finally, though declining all responsibility for damage, 
 he let it be understood that leniencies of rent and bene- 
 fits of leasing and pasturage would be granted to such as 
 could satisfy Mr. Mayor Staines and his own agent as to 
 the justice of their claims. For my Lord Woodham 
 Walter was of those whose wrath runs so fiercely that 
 the reservoir is soon empty. So, when once he had suc- 
 ceeded in obtaining the exile of Hal from Danbury, he 
 began to feel compunctions. On the morrow he rode 
 round to see him at his entrenching work by the river, and 
 being touched by the young man's simple directness of 
 manner and speech, he proposed to send him a score 
 of stout labourers better accustomed than Hal's Hog 
 Laners to the labour of the spade and mattock. As for 
 Osea Island he would have barges loaded with stone for 
 the fort which General Cromwell had ordered to be 
 built on the point of the Island, and he would speak to the 
 masons' guild of the town that they should take no other 
 work on hand while their services were needed by Cap- 
 tain Ludlow. For all which excellent good things Captain 
 Hal very soberly thanked my Lord, while little Zered 
 grinned behind his back, thinking of the letter which 
 General Cromwell had contemptuously tossed across the 
 table for him to read. " What is wrong with that Captain
 
 GREAT PAINS TO LITTLE PURPOSE 219 
 
 of yours," the General had demanded, " to have my 
 Lord Woodham Walter write of him to me thus ? " 
 
 " Methinks," said Zered after he had glanced over the 
 letter, " my Lord hath one opinion of the Captain, be- 
 cause his daughter, Lady Molly, hath another." 
 
 "Ah, say you so, Zered?" said Cromwell thought- 
 fully. " Now I remember my scatter-brained Bess whis- 
 pering some such folly. Well, if my Lord imagines he 
 can drill and discipline the likings and dislikings of 
 young people he hath before him great pains to little 
 purpose."
 
 XXIV 
 THE SUBSTITUTE 
 
 THE wind was blowing steadily up from the sea, fill- 
 ing the estuary with short-running little waves, and 
 tossing the branches in the woods towards Wood- 
 ham Mortimer and Danbury. Oaks groaned under the 
 sudden push of the gusts. Ash trees moaned softly 
 overhead like a woman in pain, and here and there a 
 treacherous elm-branch came down with a rending crash 
 and the sullen sound of leaves threshing the ground. 
 
 Captain Hal had had a busy day. He had been over 
 to Osea Island with my Lord's stone barges. He had 
 planned and laid out the new works at the seaward end, 
 for which the General was sending down guns from 
 Westminster. Upon his return to his quarters in Mayor 
 Staines' old house between the woods of West Maldon 
 and the sea, he had found an invitation from the Castle. 
 He was to go there to dinner that night. Lady Molly 
 insisted upon it. Dame Cromwell sent her salutations 
 and Bess added a malicious entreaty urging him to come, 
 promising to keep his secrets if he would, but otherwise 
 to divulge " the records of his crimes " to the whole 
 dinner-table. 
 
 Hal smiled drily, gave the letter to his Lieutenant and 
 asked for advice. 
 
 " Go by all means. Never refuse an olive branch," 
 said Zered. " I shall take the evening trip to the Island 
 and perhaps stay all night. You can make the rounds 
 here for me before you turn in. You are likely to be kept 
 late if my Lord and his Westminster flagon-emptiers are 
 of the party." 
 
 220
 
 THE SUBSTITUTE 221 
 
 " I shall not wait," said Hal emphatically. 
 
 " I am not sure," counselled Zered with his habitual 
 finesse ; " there is never any harm in finding out 
 what the enemy is thinking — especially an enemy in 
 liquor." 
 
 Hal Ludlow laughed. 
 
 " They would soon have the better of me at that 
 game. I should be babbling before their eyes began to 
 gleam. The Slepe Troop and Hog Lane are no schools of 
 toping." 
 
 " But you were at college, Captain. I have heard that 
 the gentle Johnians sometimes look at a wine glass 
 without trembling." 
 
 " Such was never my folly," said Hal. 
 
 " No? Well, now comes back to me that I had heard 
 as much — I mean that your youth hath been singularly 
 abstemious ! " 
 
 " You mean nothing of the kind, my good Zered — I 
 understand perfectly, but since neither you nor any of 
 Hog Lane can find a fault with their Captain since the 
 troop was raised, we shall, if you please, let the dead 
 bury its dead." 
 
 " Well said, my young Captain. There you had Zered 
 Tuby, the more shame to him for pestering you in the- 
 style of grumbling Zachary. The Lord hath turned the 
 sins of your youth, such as they were, into the crown of 
 your manhood. And so much He doth not for all the 
 world." 
 
 " You speak riddles, friend Zered." 
 
 " They can be read, my riddles," said the little man 
 with the black ringlets beginning to grizzle under his 
 steel " pot." And he pointed to the invitation which lay 
 on the ground between them. 
 
 " My Lady Molly, our excellent Dame the General's 
 wife, and his daughter all pleading with the Captain of 
 the Seventh to sup with them — would they have done 
 as much, think you, for Zered Tuby ? "
 
 222 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " If they had known you as I know you — ^yes ! " said 
 Hal Ludlow stoutly. 
 
 " Do not wile me with willy-whas — do not lure me 
 with Will-o'-the-Wisps," the little man waved aside the 
 compliment, not, however, altogether ill-pleased. And 
 refusing further to discuss the subject, he undertook the 
 direction of his chief's toilette with the same scrupulous 
 exactitude with which he would have seen to the equip- 
 ment of a recruit for the Hog Lane Troop. 
 
 Hal was compelled to take a couple of stout soldiers 
 with him. The road was not safe and three men were 
 better than one, Zered averred ; and so to Danbury, 
 along the leafy lanes strewn with twigs and leaves brought 
 down by the south-east wind. Captain Hal Ludlow rode 
 with his escort. All the way he had been fearing that 
 the Lady Molly had taken advantage of her father's 
 absence to send him an invitation. He had no wish to 
 visit the Towers like a thief in the night in the master's 
 absence. Yet how delightful it would be to see the 
 girls by themselves and talk to them after dinner while, 
 with her usual consideration, the Dame Elizabeth went 
 placidly to sleep. 
 
 But when Hal rode into the courtyard, he saw my 
 Lord descending the broad staircase to welcome him. 
 The pride of Hog Lane was satisfied, the private hopes of 
 its Captain less so. Still, it would please Zered to be 
 able to tell the troop, which had spoken of ducking my 
 Lord in his own pond, for the insult offered to them by 
 excluding their Captain from the banquet of the first 
 evening. 
 
 My Lord was cordial, even with an effort, heavily 
 jovial. He asked for his friend Mayor Staines, for whom 
 he professed a great respect. 
 
 " An old family, Captain Hal — an old family, I tell 
 you. Good blood, the Staines of West Maldon — a thing 
 too little looked to in these days, father offered a 
 baronetcy by his late Majesty soon after he came from
 
 THE SUBSTITUTE 823 
 
 Scotland. And pretty daughter, ah, you dog, I have 
 heard of you before. You had an eye in your head when 
 you picked your lodging. Well, I think no worse of you 
 for it — I should have done as much when I was your age, 
 as I told the ladies to-day at breakfast." 
 
 Hal whistled softly as he saluted the great man. 
 But, as he followed him into the hall, he muttered be- 
 tween his teeth : 
 
 " So the old fox has been setting the maids against me 
 and Dame Elizabeth also with his tales. If I knew the 
 young whipper-snapper who had been priming him I 
 should twist his neck." 
 
 For he was not yet old enough to know that a reputa- 
 tion for being a favourite with women never yet hurt 
 any man with a sex which can be excellently logical upon 
 occasion. 
 
 Even good Dame Elizabeth welcomed him as a son. 
 For such prodigals the women kill the fatted calf which 
 might have grown into a peaceable ox, sooner than for 
 scores of irreproachable young men who never crossed 
 deserts or went " petticoating " into far countries. 
 
 My good Dame Elizabeth, do you know that you are 
 setting a premium on evil-doing? Young ladies, is it 
 wise or maidenly to encourage dangerous young men ! 
 
 " Very likely not," they say, " but how much more 
 interesting ! " 
 
 My Lord had some reason to doubt the wisdom of 
 women, when he noted how little chance the wise secre- 
 taries and lawyers of Westminster and the Temple had 
 with the hard-bitten young Captain of horse who had 
 been in more than fifty charges, including the great twi- 
 light of Marston Moor, and had seen Rupert broken and 
 Goring driven before the wind " like a little dust." 
 
 The Lady Molly sat silent listening, her eyes wide, 
 her pupils dilated, and her breath coming fast, while 
 Bess Cromwell lost her slipper three times under the 
 table.
 
 2M HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 For all which, and for other reasons as well, Hal had 
 made himself well hated before the dinner was half over. 
 But for all that, or because of that, he was well content, 
 and enjoyed every minute of his stay. He would not 
 remain to drink when the ladies had retired, giving as a 
 reason that he had to ride the rounds on his return. 
 
 He closed the door and the storm broke immediately 
 upon his retreating footsteps. He was a vauntard, a 
 boaster before women, a fellow who was afraid of a glass 
 of good Burgundy. 
 
 My Lord sat listening, and though he was ill-pleased 
 with the foolishness of women, he was by no means sorry 
 to have a chance of giving his young placemen a lesson. 
 
 " A vauntard, the young man is not. Our ladies made 
 him speak against his will — and it was of his chief he 
 spoke, who is to him as a god. Even if he were, he has 
 something to boast of — fifty charges before a man has 
 half as many years, with Gainsborough and Marston 
 Moor to end all — 'tis harder work than shaping pens and 
 scribbling sonnets upon the desks of Whitehall." 
 
 The young officials were abashed and surprised, but 
 they consoled themselves with abundant cups of my 
 Lord's admirable Chambertin. So that when they heard 
 the trampling of horses' hoofs in the courtyard beneath, 
 they rose with one accord and went outside with my 
 Lord to bid his guest God-speed. 
 
 The ladies were there before them. Lady Molly had 
 caused a couple of torches to be brought, and Hal, hel- 
 meted, plumed, and breastplated, a very proper man, 
 stood ready to make his adieux. 
 
 Silk and velvet, even the best the city could supply, 
 made a poor show beside Hereward and his master in 
 their stained campaigning gear, but with every bit, 
 stirrup, spur, corslet, and helm glittering in the ruddy 
 torchlight. 
 
 A courteous salutation and Hal swung Hereward 
 round, the two guards fell in behind and they rode forth
 
 THE SUBSTITUTE 226 
 
 into the blue-black night, intense with stars. The men 
 went back to their wine, but the women stood listening 
 so long as the sea-wind brought to their ears the beat of 
 the horses' feet and the light tinkling treble of their 
 bridle-chains. 
 
 When Hal arrived at the temporary headquarters of 
 his troop, he found that it wanted only a couple of hours 
 of the time he had fixed for riding the outposts. A vessel 
 of three masts had been seen that morning from the fort 
 at the point of the isle. It was known that the beaten 
 Newcastle was anxious to make a landing of the force 
 which still remained to him somewhere along the Essex 
 coast, whence he could threaten London, and it was 
 partly on this account that Hal and his troop had been 
 posted at Maldon. 
 
 Removing his " pot " and breastplate, loosening his 
 belt and drawing off his boots, Hal threw himself on the 
 straw pallet in the guard-room. 
 
 He had two good hours to sleep and he had been in the 
 saddle since five in the morning, except the time spent 
 on Osea Island directing the fortifications. 
 
 Sergeant David Pascal, in whom had grown up a blind 
 adoration of his Captain, watched Hal throw himself 
 down on the straw and fall instantly asleep. Pascal was 
 a Huguenot of the South and so a countryman of the 
 Wassailer. His Captain had rescued him once at Gedney 
 and a second time in the Goring charge, when he had been 
 isolated in the midst of the enemy. Hal had thought 
 no more about the matter, but Pascal had not forgotten. 
 
 Exiles have long memories, both for wrongs and kind- 
 nesses. So the sergeant sat and watched the energetic 
 look fade out of the boyish face. He saw the peace of 
 childhood return, and with a muttered prayer he bowed 
 his austere Roman profile towards the blonde head lying 
 on the rude pillow of hay. 
 
 Hog Lane snored peaceably all about and the hour of
 
 226 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 midnight slowly approached. Then Pascal rose and laid 
 his hand on Hal's shoulder to waken him. The five men 
 were already at the door and the horses were champing 
 bridles in the keen night air. Hal moved a little im- 
 patiently in his sleep. The sergeant's will was changed. 
 
 " Let him sleep — he is young and very tired. I will 
 ride the rounds." 
 
 So strapping on the Captain's " pot " with its white 
 plume and drawing about him the dark cavalry mantle 
 of grey, he strode out to ride the outposts in his Cap- 
 tain's place. He was, as he well knew, taking a liberty, 
 but when a man has twice saved a man's life, as his 
 Captain had saved the sergeant's, one does not stick at 
 trifles. The six men found all well along the town posts, 
 sentinels on guard and many little choruses of snoring 
 noses. They had turned to come back along the river- 
 side, when at a point opposite the fort on Osea Island, 
 a sharp voice challenged. The five drew closer together 
 their reins loose, their fingers on the triggers of their 
 pieces, vainly spying out the night. Something blacker 
 than the dark water which lapped the pier posts showed 
 in front. The sergeant rode forward alone, thinking that 
 Osea Island had something to communicate concerning 
 the brig which had been seen the day before. 
 
 "Has the fort been attacked or a landing effected?" 
 he shouted, never doubting but that he had to do with 
 his comrades. 
 
 A single shot fired steadily as from a rest struck him 
 full in the neck. He fell forward with a dull clash of 
 arms. His lurking adversary had had him clearly sil- 
 houetted against the sky. 
 
 " So much for Captain Hal ! " cried a mocking voice, 
 as the boat detached itself from the solid blackness of the 
 pier. 
 
 The muskets of the five men went oflf in a scattering 
 volley, which was followed by a laugh from the boat now 
 rapidly being lost to sight as the tide swept outward.
 
 THE SUBSTITUTE 227 
 
 When they took up Sergeant David Pascal he was 
 dead, but when they brought him into the barrack cham- 
 ber in the grey dawning, Hal Ludlow still lay asleep on 
 the clean straw of the pallet where he had thrown him- 
 self down.
 
 XXV 
 
 HAPPINESS CORNER 
 
 CORPORAL DOE ROYDS gained the foot of the 
 isle of Osea in a very exultant mood. He had 
 slain the enemy, whom he had twice missed before. 
 There was no Captain Hal Ludlow any more to order 
 him about and to take the eyes and the hearts of the girls. 
 Now Neha la Fain would cease to scorn him — she who 
 could not waste a civil word upon him, a man in her 
 own position, but would run like a dog at a whistle from 
 Captain Hal, a man who cared not the snap of his finger 
 about her, who never looked her way, who only made use 
 of her as he would have ordered about any of his 
 troop. 
 
 As for Doe Royds, he had brooded over his wrongs till 
 he actually came to think himself the most wronged of 
 men. Though he would have killed his Captain if he had 
 seen him lay a hand upon the girl whom he watched 
 with vulturine jealousy, yet he hated Hal still more for 
 not being susceptible to those pleading passionate looks 
 for one of which he would have risked his life. 
 
 Sullen, silent, intensely vindictive, he pursued Neha 
 with awkward gallantries. He brought wisps of flowers 
 plucked on the mainland thrust into his tunic where 
 they were crushed by the straps of his breastplate — or 
 a pound of butter half melted and imprinted with the 
 marks of dirty fingers, a tiny pistol, taken from the 
 breast pocket of a dead cavalier. Such were some of the 
 love-tokens of this dangerous Caliban. 
 
 He would sit watching her with a hunger of bestial 
 envy gnawing at his vitals. Never had he seen anything 
 
 228
 
 HAPPINESS CORNER 229' 
 
 so fine, graceful, and agile ! Yes, he would have her. She 
 should be his and he would use dagger or bullet against 
 anyone who stood in his way, or against Neiia herself if 
 she resisted his will. 
 
 Now Doe Royds possessed a stolid and impregnable 
 courage, without spirit or enthusiasm, but entirely under 
 control. He did not see much of the world out of those 
 small porcine eyes sunk in that massive square face dis- 
 figured with curious white marks of which no one but 
 himself knew the meaning. These stood out a ghastly 
 whiteness, the whiteness of bleached bone, as often as 
 Doe Royds took to drinking his favourite Rotterdam 
 schnapps. When his face showed purple speckled with 
 white, his comrades kept out of the way and warned each 
 other to look out for Doe Royds. These curious scars, of 
 which no one had ever guessed the origin, were bites 
 gained in the rat pits of the Borough, in a well-hidden 
 space of ground behind the Anchor Tavern. There Doe 
 Royds, in a period of acute financial disaster, had killed 
 rats with his teeth, running naked on all fours like the 
 wild beast he was, while the magnificent bucks of the 
 palace antechambers cheered him on and wagered broad 
 acres and ancestral manors that Royds would kill his 
 thirty in an hour. Once he had been matched against 
 my Lord Buckingham's Tiger which should kill the most, 
 and the man had the dog well-beaten when at a 
 "St — ssst" from his master Tiger flew at his rival's 
 throat and the bets were declared off. But Doe Royds 
 killed the dog with his naked hands. 
 
 With such episodes happening to him as a daily por- 
 tion, no great delicacy could be expected from Corporal 
 Royds. He had, indeed, boxed the compass of sordid 
 crime, served on shipboard, mutinied, and saved himself 
 by swimming, cut throats on the Kent Road for a handful 
 of coppers, played the highwayman on Blackheath, and 
 lurked under the creaking chains of the gibbet without 
 shivering, to catch the obscene crows that congregated
 
 S30 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 there, with sieve and string as in the days of his innocent 
 youth. Innocent — had Doe Royds ever been innocent? 
 If so, he had utterly forgotten the fact. 
 
 But he had happened to be of use, in the way of his 
 business, to the great Mr. Silas Scale, and had been hired 
 to protect him from the fury of enemies who disapproved 
 of his business methods. He had stood manfully to his 
 engagement because the other side would not offer him 
 a larger price. He had saved Friend Scale from tar-and- 
 feathering — if not from something worse. And the 
 grateful Quaker had brought him to Boreham Barns, 
 where he became for a while a promising convert. But 
 the Society of Friends would have none of him, and after 
 a brief trial the Anabaptists cast him out. Indeed, they 
 had never believed in him, and finally by his master's 
 advice he had taken service as a spy in the Hog Lane 
 Troop. 
 
 And the dogged sleuth-hound energy of the man made 
 a good soldier of him — as it were in spite of himself. He 
 cheated, betrayed, plotted, and murdered. But once 
 in the ranks he would ride with the best, and in the 
 charge no man save Hal and Zered fell faster or more 
 furiously upon the enemy. His badge of corporal had 
 been well-gained, well-deserved, and a source of no 
 grumbling in the troop save what came from Doe Royds 
 himself. 
 
 Why could they not leave a man alone ? He was very 
 well as he was. He asked no favours from the great and 
 he would gladly have done without this one. 
 
 Which in a way was true, for Doe Royds as a troop 
 corporal found himself a more marked man than plain 
 Trooper Doe Royds. It was harder for him to steal off 
 in the twilight unremarked, leaving a post without a 
 commander, and Hog Lane was not long in scenting a 
 mystery. 
 
 " Surely our corporal is a bold man," some of the 
 younger whispered among themselves, " to go ' petti-
 
 HAPPINESS CORNER 231 
 
 coating ' with a face on him like a badly cooked plum- 
 pudding." 
 
 Doe Royds had strong nerves, and he had need of 
 them when looking up from the polishing of his accoutre- 
 ment he saw, standing in the doorway of the fort shelter, 
 within arms' length of him, the man he had left for dead 
 ten hours before on the old Baskerville pier. 
 
 " Sergeant Pascal has been killed," Captain Hal 
 announced. " They mistook him for me, because he had 
 put on my helmet to ride the rounds. Bring over the 
 men to the funeral." 
 
 With the wailing of bugles and the blast of volley- 
 firing the Hog Lane Troop laid their sergeant in his grave. 
 And the man who seemed to grieve most decorously and 
 sincerely was his successor, Sergeant Doe Royds of the 
 Seventh Troop of the First Regiment of Cromwell's 
 Horse. 
 
 To be a good soldier covers a multitude of sins. Doe 
 Royds was not even suspected. The gap in the numbers 
 of the troop was filled by the enlistment of Lieutenant 
 Zered's nephew, a fine tall French Drover, who arrived 
 with horse, bridle, arms, and accoutrement, needing only 
 the scarlet coat of the Eastern Association and an hour 
 or two a day of extra drill, which was supplied to him 
 alternately by his uncle and Sergeant Doe Royds. 
 
 So Death, with silent mouth and inscrutable eyes, went 
 to and fro in the Seventh Troop, saluting and com- 
 manding, an obedient and dependable subaltern, a fine 
 and ready fighter, a model soldier. But for all that, 
 whether he listened to his Captain's orders, or looked 
 towards the Isle House where about the doors Neha 
 la Fain went and came, flitting like a busy butterfly in 
 her blue cloth dress sashed with scarlet. Death looked 
 out of the deepest beady eyes, and as it were. Hell fol- 
 lowed after. Yet no man was quicker in the saddle, none 
 more ready in reconnaissance, none more forward in the 
 charge, none so well fitted to lead a " forlorn." He held
 
 232 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 his own life cheap, which enabled him to do as much for 
 that of others. Certainly he had failed once or twice. 
 His bullet had miscarried, but in the long run he must 
 succeed — because, being unsuspected, he could choose 
 his time. And Doe Royds was by no means an impatient 
 man. With steel and lead he would make a wilderness 
 about Nefia la Fain, so that he alone might possess her. 
 As for love, Doe Royds took no account of that. She 
 should be his to have and to hold. 
 
 Meanwhile Hal and Zered, all unconscious, made 
 themselves strong at Maldon and fortified Osea Island 
 at their pleasure. Every day Hal rode with an escort to 
 the Towers to take news of the ladies and to change 
 the men of the guard, so that the ten men left there 
 might not miss their due proportion of spade and 
 mason work, or grow idle in that Capua of great folk's 
 cookery. 
 
 Sometimes, especially in the heart of the week. Captain 
 Hal found that my Lord with his train of secretaries had 
 departed Londonwards. He always knew this long be- 
 fore he reached the gate. The men on guard, stripped 
 of their gay coats, were busily engaged in splitting 
 kindling wood, bringing in faggots, carrying water, and 
 even under the personal conduct of the spruce laundry- 
 maids hanging out clothes — upon all which occupations 
 Hal turned an eye conveniently blind. Nay, he regarded 
 the scene with the toleration of a fellow-culprit — at least 
 by intention. 
 
 For to these days of peace Master Hal found himself 
 looking forward, and as they trod the leafy aisles and 
 deep lanes of Woodham Mortimer, the feet of Hereward 
 lifted more lightly and fell faster. For he knew that his 
 saddle and trappings would be removed, and he turned 
 out into that earthly paradise, a shady green paddock, 
 where he could roll under trees, and so fulfil the desire 
 of his heart. 
 
 After dinner (or even after breakfast if Hal came
 
 HAPPINESS CORNER 233 
 
 early) the girls would disappear, leaving Hal talking to 
 Dame Elizabeth, who on pretext of seeing to the do- 
 mesticities would presently descend upon the kitchen to 
 levy war, or ascend of an afternoon to doze behind closed 
 blinds in her own room. For Dame Cromwell, contrari- 
 wise to her Lord, was a good easy dame, who loved de- 
 lights and scorned laborious days. 
 
 This was just as well, for during those autumn days 
 a busy or suspicious chaperon of damsels would cer- 
 tainly have surprised in the deepest shade of the orchard 
 a scene which might have proved displeasing to her. 
 But Dame Elizabeth could be counted upon. 
 
 The younger children played boisterously on the far 
 outskirts, fed Hereward with sweet cakes, starting back 
 when his moist breath blew upon their bare arms, or deep 
 in the pastures lost themselves among the ragweed and 
 tall blonde clusters of meadowsweet. Bridget had for- 
 bidden the orchard to them, from the heights of her 
 twenty years. Bess, with characteristic virulence, had 
 threatened chastisement. So Bridget, Bess, and the 
 Lady Molly sat on the wall, broidering or shamelessly 
 dangHng legs and sucking apples till Captain Hal, eased 
 of his armour, a Montero cap on his head and a book 
 under his arm, appeared from the back door of the barn, 
 and strode meditatively towards them as though study- 
 ing the whole art of war. At sight of him Bess Cromwell 
 leaped from the wall and running towards him before he 
 could defend himself (poor unfortunate!) had her arms 
 about his neck, crying, " Kiss me, Hal. These others 
 won't say so, but I don't mind. Kiss me, I have not been 
 kissed for oh, so long a while ! " 
 
 Which desire being fulfilled to the lady's content, Hal 
 soberly kissed the hand which Bridget tendered to him 
 nonchalantly, but the Lady Molly from her perch leaned 
 forward with her hands on either shoulder, and offered 
 her lips — " to keep that shameless Bess in countenance," 
 she explained. But Bess rejected the glose. " Nonsense,
 
 234^ HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Hal. 'Tis because she likes it ! She would be too jealous 
 else." 
 
 So between the differing of such doctors Hal was left 
 to make his choice. In any case the result was equally 
 pleasant, for after a time or two Bridget, feeling herself 
 out in the cold, submitted with an excellent grace, as if 
 in a fit of absent-mindedness being of that large female 
 clan who permit that which, if asked, they would refuse. 
 It was a good time for Captain Hal when the children 
 were sent to play in the water meadows.
 
 XXVI 
 THE AMATEUR WIZARDS 
 
 WHEN the order came from General Cromwell, 
 now for three days only at Westminster, Hal 
 took it at once to his Lieutenant. " Zered," he 
 said, "an order is an order, and, as there is but one 
 God, so Oliver Cromwell is his prophet. This I believe 
 like any Turk. But this goes farther than my father's 
 son ever bargained for. I did not enlist in the Slepe 
 Troop, one of the first draft, to be a spy." 
 
 "A spy — how so?" grunted Zered, reaching out his 
 hand to take the letter, a broad sheet much folded, upon 
 the ample breadth of which some words were hastily 
 dashed as by a man with infinite business upon his mind. 
 And, indeed. General Cromwell had written in an ale- 
 house, his horse saddled and bridled, stamping im- 
 patiently without, audible as he wrote: 
 
 " Sir, — Deliver over the Troop to your Lieutenant. 
 There is a work which presses. We are sorely needing 
 news of Oxford. The man who went thither, a cousin 
 of the accursed Hothams, hath played us false. We are 
 wholly without knowledge of their forces or intentions. 
 I know you take your life in your hands, but so do we all 
 every day — though I do admit it is one thing to be 
 hanged like a dog and another to die like a gentleman, 
 sword in hand. Yet knowing not where to turn, I put 
 this matter confidently in your hands. I would send one 
 of my own sons, but Harry is too young and headstrong, 
 Richard without dependence, being cursed with the 
 curse of Reuben. Go then and God be with you ! Take 
 
 285
 
 236 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 what armour-bearer you will, and return as speedily as 
 may be, for the King threatens to overcrown all in the 
 South and West, making our good day's work at Marston 
 Moor of none effect. 
 
 " I am, with a faithful heart, 
 
 " Oliver Cromwell." 
 
 Hal sat watching Zered as he read and re-read the 
 General's orders. 
 
 " An order is an order," said Zered, " and must be 
 obeyed — that is point first. Point second, you must 
 depart openly as if summoned to London by the General. 
 I will call up the men and you will read Oliver's direction 
 that I take over the command. Point third, you are left 
 free as to your choice of an armour-bearer ; now I should 
 
 advise you " And here he leaned close to Hal Ludlow 
 
 and whispered a name which seemed vastly to surprise 
 that young gentleman. He gazed a long moment at 
 Zered to see if he were in earnest, and then muttered, 
 "Would you have me disgrace myself for ever?" 
 
 " Nonsense — there is no disgrace. If the business 
 should come to the General's knowledge, I will under- 
 take to make the matter clear." 
 
 " It was not of General Cromwell I was thinking," 
 said Hal dejectedly. Nevertheless he suffered himself 
 to be persuaded. 
 
 In the cornfields by the way the right yellow was full 
 on the wheat, but there were few men to be seen as the 
 little ass caravan creaked its way along towards Oxford. 
 Rupert had pressed most of them and the rest were in 
 hiding. Now in their absence their womenfolk handled 
 the reaping-hook. Children, brown and gaunt, were gath- 
 ering the crop hastily, and as each half-dozen sheaves 
 was knotted into a bundle, it was carried away by long- 
 legged lasses to some hiding-place. For these were not
 
 THE AMATEUR WIZARDS 237 
 
 times in which sheaves can be left for a single night in 
 the fields. 
 
 Yet all of them are glad to abandon the dry snipping 
 rasp of the hooked hand-sickle and the warm breath of 
 the encircled corn, to run to the edge of the road to 
 marvel at the yellow-peaked hat of the elder traveller, 
 covered with gilt pasteboard and inscribed with mystic 
 Chinese signs. 
 
 " The wise men out of the East," they cry, " give us 
 a charm, Master Melchior ! " 
 
 The Mage is a tall man with vividly red hair, a droop- 
 ing moustache, and a little apple-pip of beard in the 
 dimple of the chin. He is dressed in flame-coloured silk, 
 embroidered in black and red with squares and triangles, 
 crosses and crescents in an intimate tangle of design. 
 The flame-coloured robe reaches his feet whenever he 
 wears it, but on the silent spaces where none come to see 
 the dress of ceremony is carefully stowed in a linen 
 casing like a long sausage roll and swung across the 
 saddle of the mouse-brown donkey. The nimble appren- 
 tice sorcerer runs hither and thither, a stimulating ash 
 plant in hand, which is used vigorously whenever the 
 caravan lags, owing to the donkeys pulling furtively at 
 tempting tufts and thistle-heads by the roadside. 
 
 Melchior, the wizard healer^ and Sidi, his boy, are on 
 their way to cure the King's troops at a cheap rate, and 
 to amuse Prince Rupert, who has heard of them and 
 whose safe-conduct is ready to the hand of Melchior the 
 Mage in case of need. For Rupert's sign manual is 
 worth a hundred times that of the King among the riotous 
 and marauding troopers with whom the daring wayfarers 
 are likely to meet. 
 
 Sidi, too, is worth looking at. He is of an even hue, 
 face, hands, and legs bare from the wide white bragas of 
 linen to the sandals of leather fastened with the thong 
 which passes between the great and second toe of each 
 foot. The colour of his skin is of dusky lemon with an
 
 238 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 underglint of something metallic like dim gold shining 
 through. He wears a short pigtail carefully braided with 
 silk which he often carries in his mouth or coiled about 
 his head, caught into place with a two-pronged Oriental 
 pin of yellow ivory. His eyes are oblique and with long 
 black lashes, and the scanty down on his upper lip is care- 
 fully darkened. A handsome young barbarian enough in 
 his white turban and blue linen robe, which is generally 
 tucked up under a belt of crocodile skin so as to leave 
 his limbs free for his constant dashes after those pestilent 
 asses. These he addresses as Djered and Djebel — names 
 which, Arabic enough in appearance and provenance, 
 become in his mouth reminiscent of Lieutenant Zered 
 of the Seventh Troop and of a personage never long out 
 of the mouths of Puritan sectarians, especially when 
 set to drive asses. So " Zered " and " Devil " are soon 
 popularly known as the names of the wizard's donkeys, 
 and Sidi becomes famous all along the Oxford road for 
 the vigour of the apostrophes addressed to his charges. 
 
 " Nena," said the Mage, retucking his gown which had 
 been threatening for the last mile to break loose, "you 
 must give me another lesson in patter-talk." 
 
 " Better keep to ' Sidi,' " said the apprentice ; " you 
 might make an awkward mistake over yonder among 
 the King's men. As for the patter, you had better leave 
 the gipsy to me, and do you speak English fast and a 
 little broken. You are the learned man, and if you can 
 throw in any scraps of college Latin or odd sounding 
 names, it will do no harm. Ah, Devil — come away from 
 the beehives there, or we shall have to run for our 
 lives." 
 
 And the ash plant played a merry tune on the mouse- 
 coloured flanks of Djebel, whose evil disposition had 
 earned him the vulgar cognomen by which, at the pitch 
 of Sidi's voice, he was generally addressed. 
 
 These anathemas delivered in an unknown tongue,
 
 THE AMATEUR WIZARDS 239 
 
 with only the one word intelligible, uniformly impressed 
 the natives of the loyal counties west of the King's 
 circle of fortresses. Within this pale the Sages were 
 received with joy, and certain of Sidi's pranks, which in 
 the Puritan east would have ended in a drubbing at least, 
 were applauded and encored. But till they had passed 
 Reading, Sidi and his master observed the unobtrusive 
 decency of foreign travelling merchants. 
 
 Thereafter the wizard's outfit was added to gradually 
 according to Sidi's sure taste for the strange and exotic. 
 The silver collar which marked him as a slave had been 
 graven with his master's name by a jeweller on Tower 
 Hill, to whom as a fellow-Anabaptist Zered Tuby had 
 given them an introduction. Thick silver chains tinkled 
 at Sidi's ankles, and the key of the collar padlock hung 
 at Rabbi Melchior's girdle. 
 
 Almost the only buildings which had neither been 
 plundered nor wrecked were the mills. It was pleasant 
 to come upon them on the woodland valleys, cool and 
 quiet, the brick redder than elsewhere from the constant 
 drifting of spray from the great wheel where it splashed 
 above the pool. 
 
 " Aye," said the goodwife at one of these, " we were 
 much troubled at first, before we got our protection, by 
 the plunderers. But after the Prince had hanged half a 
 dozen at Oxford town gate and written on their breasts, 
 
 ' FOR MEDDLING WITH MILLS AND MILLERS,' they have let 
 
 us alone. You see they need us to grind their corn, and 
 cannot do without us at any hazard. How do we live? 
 Better than you might think — but what is the use 
 of telling you. Master Wizard, who must know every- 
 thing?" 
 
 Hal became absorbed and intent. He had played in 
 the Wold mills as a boy and remembered something of 
 millers and their ways. 
 
 " I see a by-pass in the great funnel," he said gently. 
 " It opens and shuts, and when the wheat is all ground,
 
 MO HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 there is a little pile far down below in the darkness of the 
 cellar." 
 
 The miller's wife was a comely dame and good- 
 humoured. She laughed merrily. 
 
 " I see that you are of the brotherhood. Methought 
 I saw the meal-dust among your hair when you came in. 
 You know that we must have our little profits, or how 
 could we live? And where would the siftings, pea-meal, 
 bean-meal, and other stuff come from for the fattening of 
 our porkers? " 
 
 So on the strength of this vague fraternity Hal and 
 slave-boy Sidi were invited to stay with Miller Tibbetts 
 and his wife, and the earnest expectation of the pair did 
 not go unrewarded. For, being too great a Mage to con- 
 descend to such trifles himself, Rabbi Melchior ordered 
 his servant to give such an exhibition of legerdemain as 
 caused the honest people to cross themselves to avert the 
 evil eye. It was all of the simplest sort, but Sidi's manipu- 
 lation was of the finest and his passes the most dexterous. 
 That night the Mage slept in a great oaken bedstead of 
 the time of King Harry, while Sidi occupied the truckle 
 bed on little broad wheels which during the day reposed 
 underneath. 
 
 It was scarcely midnight and Sidi not yet retired to 
 his truckle bed when a great noise of battering and 
 shouting arose outside the miU-door. " In the name of 
 the King — open there, miller, or we will burn down your 
 mill ! " From their chamber they could hear Goody 
 Tibbetts waking her husband, who apparently slept his 
 stoutest, as one might say, upon both ears. 
 
 " Go down and speak with them, John," she was say- 
 ing. " I'll wager 'tis the same troop of fly-by-nights who 
 came hither to rob us a month ago." Miller Tibbetts 
 groaned and gathered his clothes somehow about him 
 and groped his way downstairs. At the sound of his 
 voice the brawl redoubled. 
 
 " Open the door — we are sent by the King ! We must
 
 THE AMATEUR WIZARDS 241 
 
 have flour and meal — aye, aye, oats for our horses and 
 money for our pockets. Millers are all rich, as rich as 
 misers ! " 
 
 Hal and Sidi could not hear the miller's protestations, 
 but the answering threats came over the wall and the 
 solid wooden gate " dithered " upon its supports. The 
 chamber in which master and slave-boy lay communi- 
 cated by a small door and a flight of steps with the upper 
 part of the mill, which poked a gloomy forehead of gable 
 out over the gate. The door was open and a windlass 
 protruded. It was to this granary that Miller Tibbetts 
 lifted his spare sacks of wheat, both full and empty. Sidi 
 took an empty sack, stuffed it with straw, wrapped a 
 linen sheet from the bed round it, and tied a rope about 
 one corner, so that the head hung down in a way sur- 
 prisingly suggestive. Then having procured a large 
 sheet of paper, he printed some words upon it, and 
 leaving Hal to attach the placard to the breast of the 
 stuffed and swathed figure, set off to search among the 
 cargo of conjurer's tricks which had been placed in the 
 great storehouse on the ground-floor. 
 
 Here Sidi came upon Goody Tibbetts wringing her 
 hands. She called out at sight of him, " Oh, run and 
 hide, little wizard, else they will kill both you and your 
 master, and they will burn the mill and steal all our 
 goods and gear. What shall we do ? " 
 
 " Do ? " quoth Sidi, hastily rummaging among 
 packages. " Do — go to the window and look out ! " 
 And he sped upstairs with his find. Captain Fly-by- 
 Night's gang had no direct connection with the royal 
 forces, but was composed of those rough unstable ele- 
 ments, thieves and broken men, who sometimes took a 
 hand in the later stages of a siege in order to be first 
 at the plundering of the burghers. But they could give 
 and take blows also, though they never attacked unless 
 the odds were at least ten to one in their favour. They 
 had one fear in the world and that was Rupert, who, in-
 
 242 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 deed, plundered himself, but did not allow mere irregu- 
 lars and camp followers to strip his men of their dues. 
 
 So beneath swarmed and clamoured the crew of ruf- 
 fians, partly on foot and part mounted on lean nags and 
 stolen cart-horses. They had found the trunk of a small 
 fir tree laid out to season for next winter's fires. Of 
 this they had made a rude battering ram which they had 
 swung against the great spiked wooden gate with a thud 
 which shook the framework of the mill. 
 
 It was time to be acting, and Sidi ran out his stuffed 
 sack to the point of the windlass, and giving the rope to 
 Hal bade him " lower away." The dangling figure with 
 the bobbing pendent head over which Sidi had tied a 
 white handkerchief was let down. Dreading some trick 
 or dangerous explosive the besiegers gave back a little, 
 and the apparent corpse descended, dipping and dangling, 
 the head sagging aside in a manner horribly suggestive. 
 The troop of plunderers paused a moment uncertain what 
 to do. But from the window over their heads burst a 
 ghastly flare of blue which lit up the dangling figure, 
 and especially the white oblong of the placard pinned 
 to the breast : 
 
 " FOR MEDDLING WITH MILLS AND MILLERS." 
 
 While with one hand on the windlass, and dressed in 
 buff jerkin and Montero cap, they saw through the blue 
 glare a figure like the Prince Justicer who cried, " Rascals 
 — I know you — must I hang the whole of you that my 
 mills may have peace ? " 
 
 They scattered as if the devil were at their heels, 
 yelling to each other that Rupert was coming and pur- 
 sued even into the depths of the forest by the image of 
 that dangling figure with the swathed blind face, the 
 awful voice, and the keen blue flame which seemed to 
 write every man's name upon his brow. 
 
 From that night forth Miller Tibbetts and his Goody
 
 THE AMATEUR WIZARDS 243 
 
 were left in peace. For Captain Fly-by-Night's gang 
 spread the report to explain their defeat. The Prince 
 often spent the night there. It was not good to pass that 
 way, and they added considerations which, though dam- 
 aging to the good name and fame of the miller's wife, 
 gave complete security to her husband from all future 
 depredation. 
 
 And so did Sidi and his master, but especially Sidi, 
 requite right royally so excellent a reception. Miller 
 Tibbetts had entertained angels unawares. 
 
 But it was not often they could count upon such a 
 reception. Nor, indeed, did they greatly desire it. The 
 shelter of their tent, set up ten or twelve feet above the 
 stream, on a promontory if possible, with a wood behind, 
 and a view up and down the valley — such an encampment 
 was good fortune for them to find. Or sometimes they 
 camped high up on a side brook which came racing down 
 from the ridges, the water clean, cool, and hard from the 
 limestone. They slept soundly, the asses clicking heels 
 and pulling at their halters where Hal had tethered them 
 out, or rustling furtively among the osiers of the " rod- 
 dam." 
 
 Sidi, with his back against a great trunk and his feet 
 to the camp fire, slept and waked alternately, nor could 
 Sidi himself have told at any given moment whether he 
 was asleep or awake. But he mended the fire at the 
 right moment, and when the first breath of morning 
 blew, he opened wide the flaps of the tent door. The 
 fresh sweet air entered, fanning the sleeper into instant 
 wakefulness. Hal was on foot and alert. No drowsy 
 stretchings and yawnings such as happen to those who 
 sleep in shut houses. He had been asleep. He was 
 awake — that was all ! 
 
 In these days Sidi was wonderful. Never had he been 
 so happy. His idol went by his side all day, talked to 
 him, was instructed in all the new wisdom which is out- 
 side the range of college-bred captains of horse. That
 
 244. HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 wave which came up the stream yonder was no mere 
 wave, but an otter swimming silently as if in oil. The 
 water vole dived from the bank to cut the fresh reeds on 
 the succulent white roots of which he made his breakfast. 
 All was new and wonderful to Hal. Best of all was 
 when, gold and purple against the pale green sky of late 
 evening, Sidi pointed out the towers of Oxford, the 
 King's city, very far away.
 
 XXVII 
 
 OXFORD IN THE KING'S DAYS 
 
 RUPERT'S sign-manual and seal had admitted them 
 into a wonderful city, or rather a city which formed 
 but the kernel of a great entrenched camp, the 
 Oxford of the King. Such a press of people, such gal- 
 loping of orderlies, and gay young Captains of foot 
 walking arm in arm, ogling the damsels as they went by. 
 For the King held court in Christ Church hall and the 
 guard royal, with gilded breastplates, stood at intervals 
 along the crowded ways. The church steeples and grey 
 colleges were gay with bunting, blue and white, and from 
 many hundreds of masts floated the red cross of St. 
 George. But colleges and churches, nay, even the loyal 
 town itself, were almost lost among the wilderness of 
 tents and wooden erections which extended on all sides 
 both up and down the river. These huts of plank and 
 rough-hewn logs from the Berkshire forests were laid out 
 in regular alleys, some with pompous names — Coronation 
 Highway, Three Kingdoms' Avenue, Love-Charles Lane. 
 Others had printed placards which showed the wit of the 
 gentlemen cavaliers. " Traitors' Gate," had a lych-gate 
 in the form of a gallows from which little figures were 
 dangling. These, to prevent mistake, were labelled, 
 " Essex," " Fairfax," " Manchester." A little farther on 
 a long building of many doors and small unglazed win- 
 dows bore the sign, " Prynne's Quarters," and on looking 
 up the head, legs, arms, and trunk of the great Parlia- 
 mentarian were to be seen empaled on spikes on the flat 
 rook, drooping red rags most convincingly as the wind 
 swayed them about. 
 
 245
 
 M6 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Patiently and meekly Sidi and his master drove their 
 asses before them through a wilderness of storehouses, 
 cattle sheds, sheep pens, pig-sties, and cellars recently 
 dug, with the earth still piled high in front. They passed 
 reeking brickfields and stores of sea coal from the Forest 
 of Dean, charcoal sheds and wood reserves, hay and straw 
 in huge stacks each a hundred yards long, all duly 
 thatched and battened down. Then came a wider avenue 
 with guarded magazines of powder. Here sentinels com- 
 pelled them to keep rigorously in the middle of the road, 
 where the dust was ankle deep. Presently the camp 
 opened out on a wilderness of field tents, innumerable 
 picketed horses, all the ordered bustle and beehive 
 diligence of a long-occupied cavalry encampment. Here 
 were no gilded guardsmen, but rough-clad men sat in 
 their shirt-sleeves mending their uniforms or burnishing 
 their accoutrements. 
 
 Something told Hal in a moment that he had seen these 
 bronzed veterans before. He recognised the soft yellow 
 leather Mazarin riding-boots which were held up by 
 bands of hide, the hacked casques and scarred breast- 
 plates which strewed the ground in front of the tents. 
 
 Where had he seen these last ? It came back to him in 
 a moment. Why, where but at Marston Moor, in that 
 fateful moment when Cromwell, wounded on the neck, 
 had been beaten down upon his horse's neck — when 
 Zered and he had driven in before him, lashing about 
 them fiercely, their swords rising and falling upon hosts 
 of just such men as these. 
 
 They had arrived. Mage Melchior and Sidi his slave 
 were at last in the cantonments of Prince Rupert. And 
 there on the tall flagstaff of a whitewashed cottage of 
 two stories, garreted above with tabaliere skylights, blew 
 out the many-quartered red and gold standard of Rupert 
 of the Rhine. 
 
 As they came near, hoping to find an orderly, who for 
 an opportune greasing of the palm might take their
 
 OXFORD IN THE KING'S DAYS 247 
 
 credentials to his Highness, Rupert himself came out with 
 his brother Maurice. They were laughing heartily like 
 men who had already both eased their hunger and slaked 
 their thirst. Rupert clapped his brother on the shoulder 
 and in a voice audible to the whole square of busy 
 cavaliers, accused him of trifling with the fair fame of a 
 certain Lady Lulu — a name at which the soldiers paused 
 in their stitching or polishing, each to wink knowingly at 
 his neighbour. 
 
 But the small cavalcade of laden asses, the peaked hat, 
 gilt and tinselled in red and silver, the gorgeous magi- 
 cian's robe, Sidi with his golden skin, his blue robe and 
 silver collar, instantly arrested Rupert's attention. 
 
 The russet-clad hearty man pushed back the broad- 
 brimmed Vandyke hat from his brow that he might see, 
 the better. The asses stood patient and blinking, while 
 Melchior the Mage bowed low, spreading abroad his 
 hands in a reverential salaam, while the lithe slave 
 springing forward threw himself upon his knees at the 
 Prince's feet, and knocked his forehead three times on 
 the ground. Then he leaped up and presented a folded 
 paper to the Prince. 
 
 " Melchior the Mage out of the land of Mesopotamia, 
 and his servant Sidi from Cathay on the confines of 
 China! " he read aloud. 
 
 " So Frank Hotham hath kept his word after all," 
 Rupert explained to his brother who stood looking on 
 indifferently enough ; " I little expected it, seeing that 
 the Hothams have other fish to fry just now, than to 
 think of mages and their predictions." 
 
 He beckoned Hal to approach. The Mage strode for- 
 ward haughtily and stood waiting to be questioned. 
 
 " What can you do ? " Rupert interrogated with more 
 than his usual brusqueness. 
 
 " I heal diseases with my marvellous oil — I know all 
 herb-cures and balsams. All poisons are under my con- 
 trol. I can gain love and I can break it. Hardest task of
 
 248 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 all I can keep love — that is, for others. I can foretell the 
 future, by the lines of the hand, by the inkpool, by the 
 grounds of coffee, but especially by the peculiar study of 
 the stars after the manner of Chaldea." 
 
 " Can you amuse us ? Can you perform feats of won- 
 der-working, or legerdemain?" said the Prince, whose 
 ideas were eminently of the present, and who knew quite 
 as much about the past as he wished to know. 
 
 The Mage waved a haughty hand. 
 
 " Not I, but my slave — he is exercised in all such things 
 which are but secondary and superficial " 
 
 " Very likely," said Rupert ; " we shall have some 
 amusing secondary things this evening. I prize particu- 
 larly the superficial." 
 
 He was about to turn away when Melchior asked for 
 the Prince's gracious permission to set up his tent within 
 the cantonments, and also that by his favour he might 
 be allowed to practise his healing arts among the soldiers 
 and camp followers. 
 
 " If he will cure my Lady Lulu's spaniel for me, he 
 shall have all the protection he wants," broke in Prince 
 Maurice. " Let him follow me and he shall see the 
 brute." 
 
 " Pardon me, noble Prince," said the Mage, with 
 grave apology, " that is more difficult, for I cure by the 
 influence of mind on mind. But still, since it is your 
 desire, I shall do my best and have little doubt but that 
 I shall succeed." 
 
 The enclosure of Prince Maurice was much more 
 private than the great square about Rupert's quarters. 
 The elder loved to live in the midst of his troopers, and 
 would sit down to share their ordinary at any camp 
 kettle. He would gossip by the hour in any tent door, 
 and the men adored him accordingly. 
 
 But Prince Maurice was a young man of many good 
 fortunes in a city where such were numerous and easy. 
 He was a favourite among the ladies, especially those of
 
 OXFORD IN THE KING'S DAYS 249 
 
 heavier purse and riper years. He therefore Hved more 
 retired, in a square of sycamores, palisaded all round. 
 And in a corner of this, remote from the low ivy-over- 
 grown Elizabethan mansion, the Mage and Sidi were 
 allowed to erect their tent, and pasture out their caravan 
 asses. A door in the palisade and a fence cutting off their 
 corner were arranged for them, so that, while fully pro- 
 tected, they could neither spy upon the Prince's guests 
 nor cause trouble by entering or going out by the main 
 guard. 
 
 Prince Maurice sent down an officer with the sick 
 spaniel daintily deposited upon a cushion, and a written 
 word in a lady's delicate hand to say that she entrusted 
 her heart's darling to the wise man from the East. He 
 was difficult as to his feeding and would sometimes snap 
 when irritated. But that was only the poor darling's way. 
 To this was added a detailed list of the meals and special 
 dishes which would be sent down each day from my 
 Lady's house. 
 
 Hal glanced once at the King Charles as he lay, fat and 
 plethoric, on his cushion of down. 
 
 " I can cure him in a week," he said with the slow 
 grave smile of a true Mage. Here at least was something 
 he thoroughly understood. 
 
 The officer went his way, and the Mage Melchior rudely 
 jerking away the cushion, fastened a stout cord to his 
 gold collar, and tied him up in an empty stall beside 
 Djebel and Djered. A basin of cool water was put within 
 his reach, a little straw to sleep upon, and the darling, 
 after one whipping for snarling and another for whining, 
 was left to work out his own salvation in the dim light 
 of the stable. 
 
 When the repasts came down by my Lady's gentleman, 
 Melchior and Sidi gave thanks and shared the dainties 
 complacently between them. As for the darling, his 
 business was not to whine, to keep out of the reach of 
 the donkeys' little hard heels, and to drink as much water
 
 250 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 as he liked. He was already on the highroad to health. 
 Three days of excellent spring water changed his outlook 
 upon life, and when the wonder-worker appeared on the 
 fourth morning with a basin of crusts boiled to a sop, he 
 ate modestly and with a changed heart, not snarling once 
 but, contrariwise, licking the hand that fed him. 
 Melchior was a Mage indeed.
 
 XXVIII 
 CAMP FIRE MAGIC 
 
 UPON a platform, composed of the two waggons, 
 securely propped upon trestles with boards laid 
 crosswise, under the light of flaring torches planted 
 at the four corners, appeared nightly Sidi and Sidi's 
 master. 
 
 Overhead a crocodile grinned and swung open- 
 mouthed, and the impish tricks of the apprentice dis- 
 tracted attention momentarily from the preparations of 
 the grave Mage, who in a mood of solemn abstraction 
 was setting out his remedies. 
 
 If the night were still, as it mostly chanced in Oxford 
 camp at that season, butterflies balanced and fluttered 
 about a pair of fans in Sidi's clever hands, rising and 
 settling, or with an outward sweep falling among the 
 audience, while the apprentice wizard manufactured 
 others of filmy paper quicker than the eyes of the on- 
 lookers could follow him. When this palled, candlesticks, 
 bottles, and eggs became suddenly possessed with devils, 
 dancing wildly in the air and coming to rest where and 
 how the juggler willed. Or, most popular sight of all, a 
 stalwart trooper in full panoply was pushed up on the 
 platform, where he stood foolishly grinning, while from 
 his mouth, out of his ears, and from the stalwart breadths 
 of his back, issued yards of ribbon, bolts of shavings, and 
 links of sausage. He was invited to sit down on a bottom- 
 less chair and immediately began to lay an unlimited 
 number of eggs in view of his rejoicing comrades, while 
 Sidi imitated to perfection the self-satisfied keckle of a 
 hen proclaiming her latest maternity. But the climax of 
 
 251
 
 252 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 the joy was reached when from the hehnet of some new 
 arrival in the camp, an officer if possible, Sidi produced 
 with extreme surprise a tame rat, a pair of pigeons, a 
 live rabbit, a suit of baby clothes, and on one occasion 
 carefully led up to the actual authentic baby itself. This, 
 though brilliantly successful, could not be repeated, 
 owing to the unwillingness of the mother, a certain 
 Bridget Sheeny who followed the camp, to have her little 
 Michael laughed at. 
 
 But all these accessories were in a nioment swept away 
 and relegated to unseen parts of the caravan when 
 Melchior waved his hand in a triple spell to the four great 
 winds of heaven. He called these by their names. He 
 called spirits, Heth, Toth, Astoroth, and Demogorgon, 
 up from the vasty deep. He invoked the great healers 
 and wonder-workers, pattering names easily and con- 
 fidently, Tubal-Cain, Solomon, Cydelezius, Cornelius 
 Agrippa. 
 
 "These are my authors," cried the Mage Melchior. 
 " From them springs my power. I can tell the past of 
 any man or woman by a glance at their hands. Four 
 farthings and no more is the cost — no, not from the 
 Prince himself, by whose favour and protection I stand 
 here, do I ask more." 
 
 " Hurrah for Prince Rupert ! " 
 
 " Four farthings, two halfpence, or one penny buys a 
 full view of the past, the present, the future, but also of 
 the health of your head, heart, stomach, and bowels — 
 not dear at a farthing a-piece. Thank you. Maid Marion 
 (to a towsy-haired trollop of a camp follower). You 
 have fared hard and fared soft. But though seldom you 
 have eaten bread twice under the same roof, you have 
 kept a kind heart and a heavy hand. In your life there 
 is a fair man and a dark. Both love you. You prefer the 
 fair man because he is young and handsome, but then 
 the dark man is rich. Him you will follow, and (with 
 a sudden jerk into song)
 
 CAMP FIRE MAGIC 253 
 
 "Down the hill and up the hill, 
 He shall be Jack and you shall be Jill." 
 
 " There's enough for a penny, Marion. I defy all those 
 who know you to say that I have uttered one word con- 
 trary to verity. And now to business. I have here " 
 
 (He lets fall the lid of a case and shows blue phials 
 ranged in endless rows, each tied down with curious 
 foreign withes and capped with gold lack paper like that 
 which had glittered on the wings of the butterflies.) 
 
 " Here we have the most holy Eden oil, direct from 
 the Garden. Of this rare drug there are four sorts, 
 Euphrates, Tigris, Gihon, and Haddikil, according to the 
 name of the river on whose banks the sacred balms were 
 culled. I come from Mesopotamia, gentlemen cavaliers. 
 With my own hands, and according to the ancient direc- 
 tions of my ancestors, the Chaldeans, Assyrians, Babylo- 
 nians, Persians, and Iranians, I have distilled this mi- 
 raculous juice which heals all diseases. Gentlemen, I 
 speak to men who have seen the world and know that all 
 mankind is subject to disease. Here is a man w^ho thinks 
 himself in perfect health. Really his heart is weak, his 
 purpose feeble, his wrist easily fatigued " 
 
 " You lie in your throat, dog of a foreigner," cried a 
 tall, sturdy trooper, whom Hal had chosen to tease be- 
 cause of the wrathful countenance he carried about with 
 him. " My wrist weak? — why, I cleft a man to the chine 
 only a week agone at Basing — as I will do for you, if you 
 will take off that yellow blanket and stand up like a man." 
 
 Mage Melchior had been watching for such a chance. 
 He did not get it every night. 
 
 " I will humour you, friend," he said ; " your hand is 
 feeble on the sword-hilt — I can see it wicker, and the 
 wrist — why, it needs a full sixpenny-worth of Eden 
 Balsam." 
 
 " Step up here and I will prove it, my good Captain ! " 
 
 The man stepped up on the platform, sword in hand 
 and eager for the fray.
 
 254 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " I will carve him to Eden chops ! " he shouted down 
 to his comrades. 
 
 " I am a man of peace — will any lend me a sword?" 
 A dozen were instantly at his disposal. He took the 
 nearest to his hand quite at random, dropped his long 
 mystic robe, and showed himself in knitted jersey and 
 close-fitting knee-breeches. 
 
 " Not fair, Will Make," cried the crowd ; " how can 
 he fight against a man in armour? " 
 
 " Fair it is," quoth Will Make, " since he said I had 
 a poor heart and a weak wrist." 
 
 " Fair indeed, comrade," agreed Hal. " I have my 
 magic cap ... of pasteboard — the gift of Assur-bani- 
 pal, principal magician of Persepolis, the chief city of 
 my nation." 
 
 And he made the peaked hat revolve and pirouette as 
 if alive. 
 
 " On guard there, William! If you are strong enough 
 to stand up alone." 
 
 " I give you the lie," roared William, thrusting desper- 
 ately, only to find his sword glide aside from the ready 
 guard. 
 
 " Stand to it, William," shouted the crowd. " He 
 called thee a weakling." 
 
 "I'll 'weakling' him!" retorted sturdy Will. And 
 the blades met with a clash. What happened after that 
 passed too swiftly to be written down in detail. William 
 was conscious that his sword had been taken possession 
 of, beaten up and down to right and left at his oppo- 
 nent's pleasure, finally snatched from his hand and sent 
 spinning into the sycamore, where it stuck crosswise 
 among the branches. 
 
 Hal ran quickly and grasped the outstretched wrist 
 which William Make was regarding open-mouthed. 
 " Quick, Sidi, a drop of the EUxir ! There, my good 
 Captain, my noble soldier — what did I tell you?" (For 
 the man winced and gasped as the fiery spirit passed
 
 CAMP FIRE MAGIC 255 
 
 down his throat.) "Now, Captain Will, I will try no 
 more bouts with you. Now your wrist is like steel. You 
 can fight with the master fencer of the army — and all 
 only costs you six pennies — I thank you ! Here is your 
 sword which my slave Sidi has brought back out of the 
 tree tops. And thank you, sir, for the loan of your good 
 blade ! " 
 
 The Mage Melchior bowed low to the smart young 
 gallant of Prince Maurice's corps, whose sword he had 
 used. 
 
 " Mage or no Mage, I must get him to show me that 
 hotte," muttered the owner. ** It was as clever a trick of 
 fence as ever I saw. Only once did I see a young fellow 
 do the trick in old Rouvigny's salle behind the Globe 
 Cock Pit." 
 
 " And who was he ? " asked his companion care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " Oh, I know not, a young collegian from Cambridge, 
 they said. But I forget his name, a lad half this con- 
 jurer's age. But the trick was the same — a beating of 
 the opponent's sword this way and that, benumbing the 
 fingers, then — whoop, sudden lift and the blade flickered 
 to the rafters of the fencing hall." 
 
 But there was no pause in the patter of the Wise Man 
 from Mesopotapiia. 
 
 " The Balsam of Eden cures all maladies, spleens, 
 hypochondries — better than all dill, aniseed, germander, 
 and ground pine, whether sodden in water or drunk with 
 wine. The sacred remedy may be taken inwardly or 
 applied outwardly. Euphrates and Tigris for the inward 
 parts, Haddikil for wounds, and Gihon as a liniment, 
 plaister, or ointment, excellent for toothache, heartache, 
 the pains of unrequited love, and for blistered feet — four- 
 pence only to a foot soldier, and to each lover who will 
 publicly declare the name of his true mistress, I will 
 present a phial as a free gift." 
 
 By this time trade had grown brisk. The sale of the
 
 256 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 bottles fell to Sidi, who handed them out with Oriental 
 indifference, clinking the change into a brown leather 
 bag at his girdle. 
 
 " 'Tis good for the sick. It cures them of their pains. 
 It is good for the well. It prevents him from falling ill — 
 for the strong, it makes them stronger — for the weak, it 
 makes them fierce as Numidian lions. 
 
 " See what it hath done for Will Make ! Who will try 
 a bout with him now? The sick, the well, the aged, the 
 weak ! Nay, a man must be devilishly dead, indeed, if it 
 does not bring him alive again ! " 
 
 A curious quiver passed among the ranks of the 
 listeners as the Mage continued to speak rapidly. Hal 
 glanced about but could see nothing. Sidi's sharp eyes, 
 however, made out a party of three which approached 
 from behind, the Princes Rupert and Maurice in plumed 
 helmets and breastplates, while between them with a 
 certain austere dignity moved a third in black cloth of 
 wondrous fineness, black buckles on his shoes, and con- 
 fining the plume of his broad hat, only upon his shoulders 
 the creamy lace collar spread in graceful folds. 
 
 "The King . . . behind you . . . with the Princes!" 
 Sidi whispered in his chief's ear, and without a break the 
 voice of the charmer continued. 
 
 " I have also remedies for the spirit, food for the mind. 
 The latest pamphlets damp from the press, written by the 
 wisest men. Doctor West's Defence of the Dispensing 
 Power, the Bishop's Proof of the Divine Right of Kings, 
 Sheldon on Non-resistance to the Lord's Anointed, 
 Young's Sin of Rebellion, and The Iniquity of Schism by 
 the same notable author — all fresh from the secret presses 
 of the city and none ever yet seen or read in this or any 
 other camp. Who will read? Who will instruct them- 
 selves? " 
 
 Behind him, Hal was conscious of a movement, and 
 Sidi, turning half round while apparently still busy with 
 the box full of pamphlets, observed the King bend
 
 CAMP FIRE MAGIC 257 
 
 towards his right-hand companion. Presently Prince 
 Rupert passed up a lane which opened automatically 
 before him. 
 
 " Give me one of each," he ordered roughly, " and 
 heark ye, lad, sell no more till I give you leave." 
 
 Sidi made a packet which he tied with a blue and 
 white favour and presented it to the Prince. Rupert 
 flung a gold piece on the platform and strode away, with 
 the injunction, " Bide indoors to-morrow till you are sent 
 for. There may be questions to ask."
 
 XXIX 
 THE LADY LULU 
 
 ON the next day Hal was interrogated with much 
 strictness before the King and the Princes. How 
 had he come to be in possession of the pamphlets, 
 yet was unable to give any account of political matters 
 in the city ? 
 
 He answered with the confidence of truth that since 
 he landed at the mouth of the Blackwater coming from 
 Holland, he had not entered the capital, but had made 
 his way as directly as possible to the city of Oxford. 
 He had obtained his letters of recommendation from the 
 Hotham family while yet abroad, while the English part 
 of the stock-in-trade, the pamphlets and news sheets, 
 had been sent on by gipsy friends of his slave-boy Sidi, 
 who made a traffic in such-like throughout all the loyal 
 parts of the kingdom from Cornwall to Lancaster. 
 
 The King nodded assent and approval. 
 
 So long as he was served, he cared little by whom, and 
 indeed few ideas pleased him more than that of the high- 
 ways of England being filled with strolling Egyptians and 
 harmless secret folk, scattering belief in him and his 
 divine mission in cottage and hall. For to the last he 
 retained the belief that if only he could appeal directly 
 to the common people, who loved him, he would soon 
 get rid of that wearisome and obstructive Parliament 
 which did nothing but stir up strife between him and his 
 people. 
 
 It was not long, however, before the King wearied 
 of Sidi's gibberish and Hal's interpretations, which added 
 nothing to his knowledge. 
 
 258
 
 THE LADY LULU 259 
 
 " The pamphlets are excellent. Let these people sell 
 them. The more good seed is sown, the greater will the 
 harvest be." 
 
 So Prince Maurice rose and led the Mage and his slave 
 to the door. They left the presence with many reverences 
 of which the King took no notice, but continued talking 
 in a low tone to Rupert. But Prince Maurice took Hal 
 by the elbow and said hurriedly, " Go as fast as you can 
 to my quarters and persuade the Lady Lulu, whom you 
 will find there, to accompany you. Entertain her as best 
 you may till I come for her. The King takes dinner with 
 me to-day and will inspect my quarters. See to it as you 
 shall answer to me, that she leaves no woman's fopperies 
 behind her. The King will send me to black Wales or to 
 rot in moist Cornwall with Ralph Hopton." 
 
 A little uncertain as to his reception, but taking Sidi 
 with him as a competent adviser on matters feminine, 
 Hal hastened to carry out his instructions. He found 
 that the Prince's servants had taken occasion to absent 
 themselves, all but the cook, who was startled out of his 
 decorum by the news that the King was to dine there. 
 He instantly sent one of his satellites after the truants, 
 and another to the market, while with his mouth filled 
 with Alsacian oaths, German " donnerwetters," and 
 Rhenish " verdomptische schweinen," he proclaimed 
 anathema on all the kings of the earth. 
 
 Now Lady Lulu was a remarkable person, known at 
 every great court in Europe, as well as several small ones. 
 Born to a great name and early married to one still 
 greater, she had deserted both to become the companion 
 of daring and adventurous men, princes or gamblers, 
 crowned kings of the earth or gentlemen highwaymen. 
 All that the Lady Lulu demanded of her lovers was that 
 they should in no sense fail her. And that in intercourse 
 with her they should be ready at all moments to show 
 their valour and conduct themselves as men. Lady Lulu 
 preferred physical to moral advantages. She passed
 
 260 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 from one to another with the air of one in a rich garden, 
 picking a fruit here and there with a careless wilful 
 pleasure. 
 
 And in this lay her charm, or at least one of her charms, 
 for she was a kaleidoscopic person and showed a com- 
 plete range of rainbow facets to each new possessor. 
 
 Wholly without self-interest was the Lady Lulu, not 
 venal, frank, and willing to tell a man when she liked 
 him, equally frank of discourse when she liked another 
 better. 
 
 They entered unannounced. A voice from a figure 
 sitting cross-leg on cushions before a mirror cried 
 " Cuckoo " over a bare white shoulder and went on 
 arranging blonde curls about a low brow. A loose robe 
 of pale blue muslin caught about the waist with a bevy 
 of butterflies, the colours eminently well imitated in 
 precious stones, enveloped her beauty without concealing 
 it. She had kicked off her broidered Turkish slippers, 
 and the alabaster of one bare foot peeped out, the toes 
 rosy, restless, and mobile. 
 
 Something in the mirror warned the lady of the 
 presence of strangers. She turned easily as on a pivot, 
 glancing up at them and covering up her bare feet with 
 exaggerated modesty in the semi-transparent veil. 
 
 " Lady Princess," said Hal, respectfully bowing, his 
 ridiculous pointed hat under his arm, " I am charged 
 by the Prince Maurice to beg you to come with us to our 
 poor encampment in the corner yonder under the trees." 
 
 The Lady Lulu clapped her hands. 
 
 " Why say you so? Of course I will," she cried, rising 
 erect and extending an arm from which the wide sleeve 
 fell back showing a warm whiteness which culminated in 
 a gold-flecked armpit. 
 
 " Why, you are my forbidden fruit. I was not allowed 
 to see you or go near your camp, and now, you tell me 
 Maurice sends me to you of his own accord. Eve, can 
 you resist? "
 
 THE LADY LULU 261 
 
 Hal began to explain, but the Lady Lulu did not seem 
 to pay much attention. She stepped forward, bringing 
 with her a heady swirl of blonde perfume. 
 
 She pulled aside the weighty official robe, dropped it 
 suddenly and laughed. 
 
 " There, I knew it," she cried, " you are no old grey- 
 beard, but a very proper young man. I knew it, when 
 they told me how you disarmed that roistering jack- 
 pudding of a William Make. Wizard or no, that is no 
 old man's task, and oh, your lovely slave-boy ! I could 
 kiss him and shall. Come, let us flee. 
 
 " Why should youth and beauty stay. 
 Love has wings and will away. 
 Pleasures shorter are tliaii day. 
 Wherefore should we then delay?" 
 
 She had taken his hand and was proceeding to the door, 
 her large liquid eyes looking at him languishingly and 
 with visible provocation. 
 
 But Hal was faithful to his trust. He looked well 
 about the chamber and removed a Castilian mantilla 
 from a bedpost. He took down a long, black wrap-rascal 
 cloak from the pin whereon hung the Prince's cavalry 
 sword, and threw it about Lady Lulu's shoulders. It 
 seemed to him that he had done enough, but Sidi's eyes 
 saw more clearly. 
 
 " Take her away, my master," he said ; " I will follow." 
 And drawing a great bedspread of rose silk, covered with 
 lace fine as spider's web, the slave began to collect within 
 it all the objects which struck his fancy as unmeet for 
 the chamber of a cavalry commander and the brother of 
 hard-riding Rupert. 
 
 From the table he picked powder-puffs, and rouge in 
 dainty shells, with perfumes in small round Venice 
 flagons. A pair of La Valliere corsets in flowered silk 
 trailed on the carpet, their purple silken lacets disordered 
 by the haste of removal. A lace cap and a long night rail
 
 262 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 ornamented the shutter knobs, and a morning wrapper 
 marked as having been made by " Madame LafoUie, Rue 
 des Reservoirs a Versailles," hung over the back of a 
 chair. All these and a score of other things, kerchiefs 
 and slippers, stomachers and aprons, ribbons and wisps of 
 embroidery, went into the bedspread of rose and cream 
 upon the floor. 
 
 Before Sidi of the Silver Collar finished with Prince 
 Maurice's quarters, not only haughty Charles but jealous 
 Henrietta Maria herself might safely have inspected them. 
 Then with his load the slave-boy took his way unob- 
 served along the shady walk which led to the Palisades, 
 for so the Wizard's camp was called, from the high fence 
 which shut it out from view. 
 
 With wise and silent skill Sidi arranged the cushions 
 and bedspread upon the rugs which the Prince had sent 
 them for their encampment. The Lady Lulu was in- 
 stantly at home, all the more so that she had her per- 
 sonal belongings about her. She couched luxuriously 
 upon the cushions, drawing in and extending her toes 
 like a purring kitten. Her fingers netted themselves be- 
 hind her head and she reclined on a corner of the rosy 
 coverlet, lazily pushing out one bare foot or rhythmically 
 retracting and extending a knee in a manner fitted to play 
 havoc with St. Anthony. 
 
 " So — I am banished," she said laughingly, " and by 
 decree royal. Come, Master Wizard, sit beside me and 
 of your wisdom, tell me why? " 
 
 " Perhaps," said Hal, " because the King loves you too 
 little or because his Highness the Prince loves you too 
 much ! " 
 
 The Lady Lulu frowned and pouted with adorable 
 nonchalance. " And yet," she said, " I am of as good 
 blood as any Stuart in all Scotland, and better than all 
 Rhineland princes from Holland to the Three Crowns of 
 Basel ! " She waved a light hand, small as a child's, with 
 rosy nails tinted like sea-shell, which she clicked like
 
 THE LADY LULU 263 
 
 castanets against her teeth and then tossed a kiss 
 in the direction of Prince Maurice's quarters. 
 
 " That for the royal shanks of King Stork," she cried 
 mockingly. " Heaven pity the woman who loves a stock- 
 fish. He would do nothing but confess each day's trans- 
 gressions to Bishop Juxon, or Master Laud. Worse still, 
 he would go off weeping to make peace with his Henrietta, 
 who is the better man of the two. Well, they are all off 
 next week. That is one comfort to think on. The King 
 goes to the south with twenty thousand. Rupert makes 
 another push for the north — Lancashire at least, and 
 Prince Maurice, though he knows it not yet, rides with 
 him. We shall be left alone, my sweet captors. I shall 
 learn magic, i'faith — all that you can teach me, while I 
 shall teach you such witchcraft as is not to be learned 
 under the twelve signs of the Zodiac." 
 
 They sat long thus, the lady half reclined on Hal's 
 shoulder, and Sidi at his master's feet looking on the 
 ground, his hands joined palm to palm and his head 
 bowed with Oriental submission. The Lady Lulu looked 
 at him often, taking him all in from his silken skull cap 
 and braided pigtail, his red lips and almond eyes to the 
 brown-sandalled feet and ankles about which the silver 
 chains looped and tinkled. It was clear that she had 
 never seen anything like Sidi the Slave of Melchior the 
 Wise Man from Mesopotamia. Most curiously of all she 
 regarded his silver collar. It fascinated her, and of all 
 desires, that of the unknown was the most itchingly keen 
 with the Lady Lulu. 
 
 " Come hither, child," she said, beckoning to Sidi ; 
 " come and sit beside me. I would give — not all that I 
 possess, for that is never any great matter, but all I 
 might possess if so I pleased, to have such a slave. For 
 how much will you sell him, wise Melchior? " 
 
 " Not for money," quoth Hal ; " he is as my own 
 son — my child, and I will neither sell nor part with 
 him."
 
 264 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " Ah," sighed the Lady Lulu, " I feared as much — then 
 you will have to take me with you and let me work 
 magic — for I have fallen in love with you both. I am 
 nothing if not frank." 
 
 And she encircled each with an arm, but withdrew her 
 left with a hasty cry as the rounded softness encountered 
 the chill of the metal collar of rough silver. 
 
 Instantly she was on her knees before Sidi, trying to 
 undo the padlock with her slender fingers. 
 
 " Oh, I cannot — I cannot loosen it. Do you, quick, 
 Sidi, quick ! " And the blood rose to her cheek and 
 flushed her delicate body under the vaporous folds of 
 muslin. A pulse beat visibly in her neck. Her eyes 
 glowed large and mystic, as though their dark softness 
 would overflow her face, and the ruby-winged butterflies 
 of her drooping cincture glowed over a golden foam as 
 of sparkling wine. Her bosom rose and fell with her 
 quick breathing, and in every nerve and fibre she was 
 a woman alive, eager for the satisfaction of her desire 
 of the moment. She clapped her hands together with 
 that impatience which of a princess had made the Lady 
 Lulu. 
 
 " Quick, open, open ! I will it. You must open or I 
 shall die." 
 
 The Mage took the key from about his neck and in a 
 moment the collar swung free. She handled it with 
 childish pleasure. " Oh, how soft. It is padded with 
 leather delicate as a lady's glove ! " And she rubbed it 
 against her cheek, murmuring, " Soft, soft ! " 
 
 Then with a proud humility she poised it about her 
 own slender neck. When Hal pointed out the inscription 
 cut upon it, she examined it carefully. 
 
 " Sidi, slave of Melchior the Mage." 
 
 " I also will be your slave," she cried with a sudden 
 catch of her voice, and clasping it round her neck she let 
 the catch click, and snatching the key, she locked it and 
 flung the key over the palisades.
 
 THE LADY LULU 265 
 
 " Now you cannot help taking me with you, for I dare 
 not go back to Maurice, and what is more I will not. 
 Maurice — what is Maurice to me ? There is no Maurice. 
 There never was a Maurice in the world, or a Rupert or 
 any other man except you ! " 
 
 Soon she quieted a little. " But for all, it is the time 
 for eating," she said, " Go, Sidi, and bring a provision 
 from Brunner, the cook. Tell him it is for me and he will 
 pile your platter and fill your wine-basket. Oh, a brave 
 man, Brunner. Haste to go, Sidi. I have much to say 
 to your master." 
 
 What the lady said and how she said it must be the 
 subject of a new chapter of history, because many matters 
 historical and otherwise depend upon that conversation. 
 
 Sidi being temporarily removed by her orders, this 
 was the manner of Lady Lulu's communings with his 
 master. In the warm dusk of the tent she clung suddenly 
 about him. Her lips sought his and the Lady Lulu 
 affirmed by unmistakable signs that, after many mistakes, 
 she had indeed found her long-sought lord and master. 
 Even while, with the instinctive subtlety of youth re- 
 sponding to youth, the Mage soothed her to the com- 
 parative quiet of recognisant sighs and a happy April of 
 mingled tears and smiles, he still kept clear and dominant 
 his Puritan head. The object of his mission was not to 
 pleasure the Lady Lulu nor a score like her, but to find 
 out the movements and numbers of the King's troops 
 and the intentions of his generals. 
 
 For this purpose the Lady Lulu might serve him per- 
 fectly. Hal was a youth of some experience before 
 taking service with Hog Lane and Oliver. He had been 
 at college and had lived in London with his father. He 
 knew that such sudden passions as the Lady Lulu's were 
 like fires among whins, quickly alight, blazing high, and 
 as quickly sinking to red embers and dead ashes. Let 
 him profit, then, while the fit lasted.
 
 ^66 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 She drew him down beside her and regarded him with 
 lustrous, over-brimming eyes, under eyeHds so heavy and 
 languid that each moment they seemed ready to close. 
 Her lips were red and her breathing quick and troubled 
 like a sea subsiding after storm, as she reared herself on 
 her elbow to look down into his soul. 
 
 Hal Ludlow let her look her fill. He knew well that 
 she could not see what was in his soul. He was a direct, 
 and as the times went, fairly honest young man, but he 
 was well advised how to profit by such circumstances. 
 The modern scruple had not yet arisen, and men took 
 what the gods gave without remorse, knowing well that 
 it was their business to benefit by the follies and wilful- 
 ness of women, or at least of such women as the Lady 
 Lulu. Yes, he would pay her with the money she de- 
 sired, full tale and a bounty over. Love was a word 
 which would be much in the lady's mouth, but the clear- 
 headed youth knew well that if youth and warm blood 
 answered for him, Lady Lulu would be satisfied. 
 
 Now Hal Ludlow had no particular desire to make 
 love. Nor, left alone, would he have done it. But on the 
 other hand, in the interests of the Cause, he had no 
 objection to being made love to. And that precisely was 
 the door which fate was opening out to him. 
 
 " Well, cost what it would," said the young man to 
 himself, with unconscious hypocrisy, " he would go on to 
 the end till every scheme of the King and his counsellors 
 was an open book to him. What else were such women 
 for ? The great pity which would have filled the soul in a 
 more sensitive or sentimental age, the chivalry of the 
 books of bygone romances, troubled him no whit. He 
 was in no danger. The flame might warm but would 
 not scorch him. He loved, as he had ever done, the Lady 
 Molly Woodham — and in his rude, hectoring, masterful 
 way he was faithful to her, but if Bess Cromwell pressed 
 his foot under the table till she lost her slipper, if Lulu, 
 the uprooted Princess, cast herself into his arms, what
 
 THE LADY LULU 267 
 
 did it cost to show himself not insensible? Hal of the 
 Ironsides, the Puritan with the panache, possessed the 
 morals of his time and class, which were not those of a 
 sectary like Zered or an enthusiast like Cromwell. He 
 had lived among the enthusiastic young royalists of his 
 college, without partaking of their opinions, yet in his 
 manner of life he was of them. He had watched under 
 his father's roof the wiles and stratagems of Parlia- 
 mentary leaders, and so far he had learned the game of 
 caution. But he was not of that faction. He had the 
 instinct of the born soldier, and he knew that it was not in 
 committee that the King could be checkmated. One man 
 only could win for the parliament, and so while his ancient 
 friends were flocking to join the royal standard, Hal 
 Ludlow became a common soldier in the Slepe Troop. 
 He saw his chance and made a weapon of the fanaticism 
 of Hog Lane. Now, once more Fate stood on tiptoe. 
 This fancy, sudden and passionate, of the Lady Lulu 
 would speedily fade and disappear. But all the more 
 reason, then, why while it lasted it should be used 
 by a practical young man zealous for the good of the 
 Cause. 
 
 Strangely enough, in making this severe sacrifice to the 
 good of the Commonwealth of England, Hal was wholly 
 unconscious of the real sacrifice which was being made 
 for him — that of the youth, the beauty, and the life of 
 Nefia la Fain. Her conduct seemed so natural to this 
 spoilt young man that he actually thought no more of 
 her self-abnegation than if she had really been Sidi, the 
 slave of the Mage Melchior from Mesopotamia. H Hal 
 Ludlow, indeed, came from that country, he had been 
 born some distance from the innocence encircled by the 
 Eden wall and watched by the flaming sword which 
 turned every way. 
 
 Presently Sidi returned with a piled tray upon his 
 head, while a pair of kitchen scullions clinked table- 
 ware and bottles outside. Hal went to the door to
 
 268 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 scatter small change, but Sidi would have none of this 
 waste. 
 
 " They are well paid," he whispered, and then, turning 
 to the camp followers, he commanded, " Come back in an 
 hour for the dishes." 
 
 They ate and drank gaily. The Lady Lulu, rejoicing 
 to cast off the etiquette of princely establishments, 
 bubbled over with tales of Versailles and Vienna, Flor- 
 ence and Modena. 
 
 " When I am your slave we shall go thither again, and 
 where I have ruled as princess I shall dance on the plat- 
 form under the torches to draw you an audience ! " 
 
 And Hal nodded assent, smiling approval, but well 
 determined that the Lady Lulu should return to Prince 
 Maurice that very night, that she might learn the result 
 of the deliberations of the King's generals about the 
 royal council-board. 
 
 And during the meal the chains at Sidi's wrists and 
 ankles chimed softly, and the Lady Lulu turned to look 
 in his dusky face. 
 
 " Oh, Sidi, you and I have a noble master — one for 
 whom a woman would be content to die ! " 
 
 " Even so," said Sidi imperturbably, and served the 
 golden Moselle wine.
 
 XXX 
 
 A CROMWELL OF WOMEN 
 
 HAL had never taken himself for a great man, but 
 wholly without knowing it he was in his way a 
 Cromwell of women. He not only succeeded in 
 making the Lady Lulu help him, but induced her to take 
 off the silver collar after Sidi had climbed the palisades 
 to retrieve the key. Most difficult of all he persuaded 
 her to return with Prince Maurice without too great 
 unwillingness when he came seeking her. 
 
 As a reward he presented her with the spaniel, now in 
 excellent health and appetite, marvellously cured of 
 snapping and all snarling humours. 
 
 Strangely enough the King Charles failed entirely to 
 pay any attention to his mistress, but fawned upon Hal 
 and licked his hand. 
 
 " Oh, Brownie, Brownie," she cried, " you have broken 
 my heart — I who sat up with you all night when you were 
 a little whining puppy with the distemper — I, your own 
 dear mistress, you to forsake me for that man ! He hath 
 cast the glamour over us both, and we can only fawn at 
 his feet and kiss his hand." 
 
 Which, so far as the Lady Lulu was concerned, was a 
 somewhat incomplete account of the transaction. 
 
 Two days afterwards the great camp at Oxford was 
 broken up. The King with his chief advisers, some 
 squadrons of my Lord Goring's horse, and the whole 
 army of foot, supported by a well-ordered park of artil- 
 lery, moved away to the south to join Greville and Sir 
 Ralph Hopeton. The West was to be swept from Bristol 
 
 269
 
 270 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 to Exeter. The fortresses which still held out against the 
 King, garrisoned by the debris of Waller's army, were to 
 fall one by one. There were traitors in many of them, 
 or at least men of a yielding disposition, who, cut ofif 
 from all support and despairing of relief, would be con- 
 tent to yield up their towns and citadels on reasonable 
 terms — nay, who might even like the Hothams be willing 
 to take service with His Majesty. 
 
 Of Reading the King was already secure. The gover- 
 nor, a former knight of the shire, was secretly in the royal 
 interest. The trainbands of London, few and disafifected, 
 were all that lay between that town and the capital. 
 
 On the other hand, Rupert and Maurice, with the great 
 body of the royal horsemen, a cavalry force so numerous 
 that the like of it had never ridden behind a single com- 
 mander in England, were to sweep northwards, gathering 
 recruits from the borders of Wales, joined by all Lanca- 
 shire, that stronghold of loyal Catholic gentlemen, and, 
 avoiding the sluggish and ill-paid Scots, the whole array 
 was to fall upon Cromwell in the Eastern Counties at 
 the very moment when he was distracted by the loss of 
 Reading and the news of the march of the King's south- 
 ern army upon London. 
 
 It was urgent, therefore, that General Cromwell should 
 have news of this great combined movement. But Hal 
 did not dare to provoke the Lady Lulu by any hasty 
 attempt at flight. So passionate a lady was quite capable 
 of denouncing her faithless friend to Rupert, and of 
 repenting only after the bullets of the firing party had 
 done their work. 
 
 Then, indeed, her sorrow would be intense, her repent- 
 ance and remorse without bounds, but these would do 
 him or the Cause but little good. On the whole, it would 
 be safer to postpone any thought of departure until the 
 break-up of the camp at Oxford. 
 
 It was all one to the Lady Lulu. After dark she sat on 
 the roof of the caravan cloaked and masked, listening to
 
 A CROMWELL OF WOMEN 271 
 
 the clatter of question and answer, the changing patter of 
 the salesman, the quick judging of characters necessary 
 for the fortune-telling, and felt that she had found her 
 career at last. She could have gone down among them 
 there and then, but for her fear of what the princes might 
 do to her new idol. 
 
 When once Maurice was safely off in the train of his 
 whirlwind brother, she would be free to masquerade in 
 spangled tights before the booths of fairs. The prospect 
 smiled upon her and set her body swaying and her feet 
 tingling to be dancing to the rattle of her castanets and 
 the wilder strains of Sidi's cornemuse before the inhabi- 
 tants of peaceful towns or under the shadow of tall ash 
 trees on distant village greens, the sunset dying rich 
 behind in a flurry of scarlet and gold. 
 
 She did not ask herself how long such a life would con- 
 tent her. She had wearied of many things. So she might 
 of this. But in the meanwhile she longed for it all the 
 more strongly that it seemed impossible of realization. 
 
 During the days of final preparation the Prince had 
 little time for her society. His brother's ardour carried 
 him off his feet, and he was all day drilling troops and 
 loading waggons. The Lady Lulu, thus left to her own 
 free will, spent the whole of her time in the small orchard 
 enclosure where was the encampment of the Mage Mel- 
 chior and Sidi his servant. 
 
 And because it interested the Wise Man, she babbled 
 complaisantly of the latest plans and preparations of the 
 royal armies, of lines of communication, and the strength 
 and fitness of regiments — how Rupert said that the 
 Welshmen made the best foot if only there were time to 
 train them, and how he had promised to be careful of his 
 gentlemen riders, because (as he said) there were no 
 more where they came from. Marston Moor had noways 
 discouraged Prince Rupert, but it had taught him some 
 elementary caution. 
 
 On the evening before the breaking up of the Oxford
 
 272 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 camp, Hal had made all the plans for his own escape. 
 He had the grace to feel some rudimentary qualms of 
 compunction in face of the glowing delight of the Lady 
 Lulu, who babbled of freedom and of the dancing costume 
 she was preparing in secret. 
 
 But after all (he told himself) it was but a woman's 
 whim, a fancy like so many others which had had their 
 season, blooming and withering betwixt sunrise and sun- 
 set of a summer's day. Yet he had no scruples about 
 using her horses in order to escape out of the city. She 
 could get him the King's pass, which, with Rupert's, 
 would carry him anywhere. 
 
 But it was ridiculous even to think of a Lady Lulu 
 among the camps of Cromwell. What would Hog Lane 
 say to her? With what unanimity would they cast their 
 Captain out. Only Sidi must know, and Sidi did not 
 matter. As she herself said, the Lady Lulu was " a 
 deep well from which many men might drink." And so 
 Hal, with the easy morality of his age and class, was 
 grateful for the inestimable information which she had 
 given him, but entirely free from any remorse — con- 
 sidering, perhaps correctly, that he had paid the lady 
 well enough for her favours and complicities. After all, 
 he had asked nothing of her, made no promises, seduced 
 her from no vows. She had fallen into his arms like a 
 ripe fruit, and if she had waxed romantic over village 
 greens and dancing by the light of torches under im- 
 memorial elms, she had had the imagination and ex- 
 pectation which Hal knew would have proved by far 
 the better part. Soon she w^ould have wearied of the 
 crowded tent, of the narrow caravan bumping along the 
 uneven bridle-paths or stuck in the sloughs of mud left 
 by the autumnal rains. Better that he should leave her 
 to what, after all, was her life — to camps and courts and 
 the society of the great. 
 
 So at least argued Hal Ludlow, a young gentleman of 
 an easy and self-congratulatory conscience.
 
 XXXI 
 
 "HOG LANE AND COLONEL LUDLOW!" 
 
 TWO days afterwards Captain Hal Ludlow, worn 
 with hard riding, was entering the presence of 
 General Cromwell presently in garrison at Ely, 
 while a transformed Sidi, in the dress of her sex, slowly 
 and sadly drove a pair of grey asses across country in the 
 direction of Osea Island. 
 
 General Cromwell was little changed from the tall 
 soldierly man who was seen in early chapters tossing his 
 little girls upon his shoulders. His hair was a little more 
 grizzled about the temples, perhaps, his face thinner and 
 more commanding. He had the look of a man whose will 
 was law, but the victor of Marston Moor who now re- 
 ceived Hal was the same Colonel Cromwell who in that 
 same garden, within sight of that grey dial, had broken 
 him for " petticoating." But now Hal in conscious 
 virtue awaited his chief, quite oblivious of the distant 
 angers of the Lady Lulu and the lonely figure trudging 
 through the green Essex lanes in the direction of the tall 
 trees of Osea Island. 
 
 " You are welcome, sir," said Cromwell as he threw 
 himself upon a garden seat and beckoned Hal to take 
 another. But Hal was far too excited. He sat down 
 indeed, in obedience to a command, and in an instant 
 he was up again, hot on his tale, striding up and down 
 as he told of Oxford, of Rupert, of Maurice, and of the 
 King — of Lady Lulu also (but here he trod lightly over 
 the ground), and all the time Cromwell sat back, his chin 
 upon his clenched knuckles, watching him intently. 
 
 " You have no notes ? " he said presently. " Nothing 
 
 273
 
 274. HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 on paper — numbers are often hard to carry long in the 
 head." 
 
 " Nothing," said Hal, rather taken aback. " In fact, 
 sir, I thought it better not. I was compelled to run very 
 considerable risks. But I have made no mistakes. Be 
 sure of that. I repeated each set of figures over and over 
 till I could not forget. I trusted my memory." 
 
 " So ? " said the General. " Well, we shall see. Go 
 now and change into uniform." 
 
 " I am afraid I cannot, sir ; I have only these clothes 
 in which I stand up, which I had from a good friend of 
 the Cause in a house near Amersham where I sheltered." 
 
 Cromwell smiled quietly. 
 
 " Go to your old quarters in Mr. Commissioner's house 
 and there you will find most of your old command. I 
 rather thought we might have need of them when you 
 should come back. Zered Tuby has your kit. But come 
 back at eight for the Council — Fleetwood, Ireton, and 
 Montague will be here." 
 
 " But— but," objected Hal, a little breathlessly, " that 
 is a Colonels' council ! " 
 
 "And what of that, sir?" said Cromwell grimly. 
 
 " But " 
 
 " But me not buts," interrupted Cromwell ; " do you 
 think nobody has been doing anything except yourself? 
 There is a new regiment of Cambridgeshire men wanting 
 a colonel. Well, I appoint you. Here is your commis- 
 sion. What have you to say ? " 
 
 " Can I take Hog Lane with me ? — I cannot go with- 
 out." 
 
 " You are a peculiar people indeed, you Hog Laners. 
 Zered had the face to tell me that if you did not com- 
 mand them, every man would go home. Aye, and the 
 rascal stuck to it though I threatened him with the 
 hangman." 
 
 But there was something in Oliver's tone which in- 
 timated that he was not angry. " Well," he continued
 
 "HOG LANE AND COLONEL LUDLOW!" 275 
 
 in an altered voice, " I suppose you can take them. They 
 are veterans and will firm the backs of the Cambridgers 
 — overawe them too, for there are a few of the stiff- 
 necked among them. Now go. Take some rest, Colonel 
 Ludlow, and do not forget eight o'clock. No — no thanks. 
 I count myself lucky! " 
 
 Hal trod on viewless air. How he reached his father's 
 house, he never knew. The few who recognised him in 
 his weather-stained country clothes had to pass on with- 
 out any answer to their jovial salutations and inquiries 
 as to what he was doing in masquerade dress at that time 
 of day. 
 
 Somehow, however, his coming had been anticipated. 
 Zered, with his new Captain's badge at sleeve and helmet, 
 came forward to receive him and Hog Lane, excited and 
 unanimous behind him, saluted him with shouts of, 
 " God keep you, Colonel." " Hog Lane and Colonel 
 Ludlow ! " " We shall show the Cambridgers what a 
 charge means ! " " Aye, and Rupert too — as we did at 
 Marston Moor." 
 
 They broke ranks and swarmed about him, grasping 
 his hands and finally carrying him on their shoulders 
 to where his father appeared on the portico, made a little 
 anxious by the shouting within his quiet precincts. 
 
 Hal stood before his father with more of emotion 
 rising in his throat than he had ever known in all his 
 " petticoating." The ring of these men's voices wel- 
 coming him home gripped him by the throat. He could 
 not thank them. He could not speak to his father. He 
 had never felt like this before. Was it possible that he, 
 a Colonel of Ironsides, was going to cry? Certainly not, 
 but still a good deal of honest moisture stood in his eyes. 
 
 His father was taking the commission out of his hands 
 when he came to himself. He had not been conscious 
 that he had carried it all the way through the city as if 
 it had been a banner in a procession.
 
 276 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " Well, lad," said the nobly attired Commissioner, 
 " what is this you have found ? Come, you serve it upon 
 me as if it were a writ. Have you learned no better 
 manners than that at Court? " 
 
 But the old man was proud of his son, and even while 
 jesting stood patting him on the shoulder before all Hog 
 Lane, at respectful attention. 
 
 " This is a great day, Colonel Ludlow," he said ; " a 
 great day for me and for our family. Come your 
 ways in." 
 
 He led the way into the house, but Hal turned towards 
 Hog Lane and struggled not to leave them without a 
 grateful word. 
 
 " I cannot — I cannot " he began and stopped 
 
 twice. 
 
 " Wait till thou hast to exhort the Cambridgers to fall 
 on, then thou wilt talk fast enough ! " The voice from 
 the ranks was an infringement of discipline, but it con- 
 veyed the sense of Hog Lane so completely that Zered 
 let it pass. 
 
 After Hal had enjoyed the supreme luxury of a bath, 
 he entered his room to which, during his absence, a large 
 box had been transported. To the lid was attached a 
 card which read : — 
 
 From Mr. Commissioner Ludlow, 
 
 to Colonel Henry Ludlow. 
 
 It contained a full new suit of Colonel's uniform, sent 
 expressly from London with a plume and badge of the 
 new regimental colours, scarlet and white. The helmet 
 and armour were magnificent, the best work of Liege, 
 and Hal felt that he must put them on in order to please 
 his father. He was conscious that the door behind him 
 had opened a little and that his father was watching him. 
 So he acted a delight he was very far from feeling, and 
 promised himself to slip into the old hacked armour and
 
 «HOG LANE AND COLONEL LUDLOW!" 277 
 
 weather-rusty trappings which Zered had so carefully 
 brought him before the hour of eight. He could never 
 go among Ireton, Fleetwood, and the rest of Crom- 
 well's etdt major looking like a peacock with a new 
 tail. 
 
 Still, he appeared delighted with everything, and was 
 rewarded when he saw the old gentleman's tears when 
 his son stood up before him. 
 
 " My Hal," he muttered. " A colonel at twenty-one — 
 oh, if only Mary had been here to see it ! " 
 
 But the clock had not struck the hour of eight when 
 ■from a house in Hog Lane issued a much more workman- 
 like figure than had entered Zered Tuby's low doorway. 
 That dinted " pot " had borne the brunt of twoscore 
 good charges. The battered breastplate, the twisted 
 silver spurs, the rusty coat with almost invisible facings, 
 only by the necessary badges of his rank carefully sewed 
 on by Zered — these added an air of experience and ripe 
 age to the youthful figure of the Colonel of Cromwell's 
 Second Cambridgeshire Horse. 
 
 " The others will serve when the day comes to make 
 him King ! " said Zered, as he packed them away care- 
 fully against the day when the Ironsides should set above 
 all men as ruler of England their creator and idol, King 
 Oliver the First. 
 
 Hal sat abashed and silent among the high captains — 
 all except Cromwell still young, but, as it were, men of 
 war from their youth up. Ireton especially daunted the 
 new Colonel. For he was the next man to the General 
 in all that great array, so secretly raised, so strongly offi- 
 cered, so perfect in equipment and discipline — the value 
 of which as the Sword of the Lord was just about to be 
 revealed to a wondering world — a world which had never 
 seen such a marvel. 
 
 Yet he must fill in the story as the General told it, 
 and Hal blushed as the eyes of the stern men turned upon 
 him. But he answered with prompt exactness. He was
 
 278 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 certain of the number of each fighting unit. He could 
 point out the weaknesses. He knew the looseness of 
 the Welsh, and how the least attack, sudden and un- 
 expected, would stampede them in the direction of their 
 hills. He told them how the Yorkshire men in Rupert's 
 train swore that if once they got to the North again, the 
 hither side of Blackstone Edge would see them no more — 
 how in the hospitals the wounded cursed the King's 
 commission of Array — which had brought them so far 
 from home to fight in a quarrel of which they knew 
 nothing. 
 
 " Pay not too much attention to that," Ireton inter- 
 rupted. " I have heard the London trainbands grow 
 openly mutinous as Lady Day drew near — ^yet fight well 
 enough when it came to push of pikes." 
 
 " There is a difference," said the General ; " observe 
 it, Ireton. The trades grumbled as free men missing good 
 money by their soldiering. But they were free volunteers 
 for all that, and went soldiering because they believed 
 that if they did not, the King would ruin every man 
 between Tower Hill and Temple Bar. Our grumblers 
 will go home to their ellwands and scales if we leave them 
 unemployed after a victory, but the King's pressed men 
 will scatter even before a battle if they are not herded 
 like sheep." 
 
 Ireton shook his head. 
 
 " What would happen, sir, if you were to fall — aye, 
 even to the New Model ? " 
 
 " Why, you would take my place," Cromwell's voice 
 rose, " and Fleetwood yours, and Montague Fleetwood's, 
 and Harry Ludlow Montague's. So the division should 
 go forward only one man short." 
 
 Then, no one venturing an opinion upon this, Cromwell 
 put it to the Colonels whether they should give chase 
 to the King, or follow Rupert again to the North. 
 Cromwell and Ireton were for finishing with Rupert, 
 which they could do with their own forces, Fleetwood
 
 "HOG LANE AND COLONEL LUDLOW!" 279 
 
 and Montague believed in joining forces with Fairfax 
 and keeping between the King and London. 
 
 " Our new counsellor sits silent," Cromwell said 
 presently. " Colonel Ludlow, pray give us your opinion. 
 You have but newly come from Oxford and have seen 
 these things with your eyes." 
 
 Hal flushed as the grave eyes of the veterans were 
 turned upon him. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, " it is my opinion that we 
 should let the King go South. No good can be done 
 there, nor yet will Rupert do us harm in the North. But 
 all the King's forces, North and South, are using Oxford 
 as their base of supplies. If we ride round Oxford, we 
 shall cut all lines of supply, as the sticks of a lady's fan 
 are snapped close to the handle. We shall sweep up every 
 draught horse within a hundred miles, and not a cannon 
 can be moved after Rupert or towards the King ! " 
 
 There was a moment's silence and everyone looked at 
 the General. Cromwell smiled grimly and a little awry. 
 Ordinarily he did not like it when a better plan than his 
 own was suggested. But Hal was of his own making, 
 and he clapped his hand on his knee triumphantly and 
 looked round the circle. " What did I tell you ? That 
 the young man would be worth his place at the board ! " 
 
 And the Great Raid was resolved upon instantly and 
 well planned before they separated. 
 
 " And Ludlow's Cambridgers — can they ride with 
 us?" queried Cromwell. 
 
 " As to that," Ireton answered him, " they are not, of 
 course, all Hog Laners. They are not Huntingdon, nor 
 Dedham, nor yet the Slepe Troopers. But they are as 
 good as we were when we charged on Gainsborough 
 Highway. Besides, Hog Lane will tune them up and 
 teach them humility. I vote for letting them ride." 
 
 Hal darted a grateful glance at the speaker, but Ireton 
 was drumming with his fingers on the table. Cromwell, 
 ever alert, his eyes seeing into every man's heart without
 
 280 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 having the appearance of looking, picked up the message. 
 " Ludlow is your debtor, Ireton," he said ; " a month's 
 drill and a month's clearing the country would have been 
 good for them, but after all — sohitur ambulando — we 
 can take it out of them as we go. And their Colonel we 
 cannot leave behind. That would be too cruel. This is 
 Ludlow's Ride!"
 
 XXXII 
 THE GREAT RAID 
 
 IT was the first time they had acted all together under 
 their own General, and hope beat high among the 
 Ironsides that night. Nearly two thousand sabres 
 were to ride forth on the morrow. In spite of Crom- 
 well's words, so often quoted against him, the Ironsides 
 force was for the most part officered by gentlemen. 
 
 " I had rather," said Oliver, " have a plain russet- 
 coated captain that knows what he is fighting for, and 
 loves what he knows, than that which you call a gentle- 
 man and is nothing more. But I love a gentleman that 
 is a gentleman indeed." 
 
 And in his Ironside regiments he honoured them so 
 well that of thirty-seven officers who rode out with him 
 there were only seven who were not " gentlemen born." 
 But of these seven were Pride, the drayman, and Hewson, 
 the Hog Lane cobbler. Even Zered Tuby's father owned 
 Gedney Grange and might have borne arms on his 
 shield. 
 
 Quietly and easily the raiders filed out, and disappeared 
 into the west without leaving a clue to their destination. 
 " For the defence of London," some thought. " To put 
 down a new raid of Rupert's men," said others. But none 
 thought that, for the first time in the war, a great strik- 
 ing force was manoeuvring by the will of a single man. 
 No Eastern Association, timid like all Committees. No 
 wise civilians at Westminster to turn Cromwell's path by 
 a hairbreadth once he had left Ely town behind ! 
 
 By Banbury and Edgehill he rode straight for Oxford. 
 But he had with him no battering guns, no siege train, 
 
 281
 
 28£ HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 nothing but what each horseman could carry, and that 
 was ammunition for the most part. 
 
 The men were in high spirits. No man except the 
 generals and the four colonels knew whither they were 
 being led. But then, what did that matter? One glance 
 at that tall figure riding ahead to scan the horizon, that 
 Ironside of the Ironsides, gave them confidence. 
 
 " Ah, he knew — he knew ! " What mattered it about 
 any other? They followed his star and were content. 
 Thus confident the Ironsides were in the best disposition 
 for accomplishing great things. 
 
 From Edgehill the array turned southward, now in 
 Royal territory, but keeping well west of Oxford and its 
 defences. They had their first experience of the work 
 they had come out to do when they crossed the Hereford 
 road. Here they found Rupert's squadrons pouring 
 northward, escorting many waggons of provisions. 
 
 To Hal they became apparent as a black trail of ants 
 toiling up a wide valley through which in coils and 
 wimples a little streamlet shines silver among loose water- 
 side foliage. Cromwell waved his hand. The various 
 commands spread out to right and left. Up went the 
 General's sword, a line of steel glittering in the full sun- 
 shine. Whether by accident or by intention Hal found 
 himself in front of the main body of the escort. Hog 
 Lane was in the centre behind him and the Cambridgers, 
 split into two, extended on either side. 
 
 "Charge!" 
 
 It was the first time he had given the order to a regi- 
 ment. 
 
 Generally, indeed, Hog Lane charged without needing 
 to be told. Just how the new command came down the 
 slope has not been put on record. " Raggedly enough ! " 
 reports Ireton, who seems to have had a hasty glimpse 
 of them in the heat of his own engagement. But it was 
 one thing to lead the first regiment of Cromwell's horse 
 into action, all veterans of fifty fights, and to conduct
 
 THE GREAT RAID 283 
 
 five hundred men and horses through their first action. 
 But the spirit of united action was upon them. They 
 drew closer, each foot feehng for his neighbour's stirrup. 
 Hal saw beyond the blue-and-white plumes of Rupert's 
 men a glimmer of rusty red — prisoners from the Parlia- 
 mentary defeats in the South being taken to some strong- 
 hold on the Welsh border. 
 
 The shock of the onset came with shattering sudden- 
 ness. Hal at the head of Hog Lane broke through in- 
 stantly, but the new men on the flanks were in some con- 
 fusion. The risk was that if they did not push through, 
 the charge would degenerate into a vast number of hand- 
 to-hand encounters. 
 
 So Hal, checking the pursuit, divided Hog Lane in 
 two so that Zered with one part and he with the other 
 could fall on the rear of the enemy. 
 
 The result was instantaneous. The Royal horse fled. 
 The Cambridgers came through in fairly good order, and 
 finding that all was safe, gave themselves whole-heartedly 
 to the pursuit. Not vainly smote the Sword of the Lord 
 that day, till Hal stopped them after two or three miles. 
 In that direction lay Rupert and his whole force. Hal 
 feared the counter stroke, and was content with the 
 steadiness of his men. When he got back to the green 
 valley, all that could not be transported or used on the 
 spot was being burned, and the tall pillars of smoke rose 
 into the still air. 
 
 Cromwell had cut one stick of the fan. But he had no 
 time to spare, so driving the captured horses before him, 
 he went forward, his eagle eye scouting ahead. Nothing 
 escaped him. He would summon a strong castle to sur- 
 render, threatening battle, murder, and sudden death in 
 case of refusal. He had, indeed, no means of making 
 good such a threat, nothing heavier than a musket in his 
 whole army, yet such was the terror which his name al- 
 ready inspired that as often as not the place was rendered 
 up. For such a shameful surrender, poor young Winde-
 
 284* HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 bank, the Secretary's son, a young man personally brave, 
 was shot by orders of the King in the castle garden after 
 Cromwell had passed on. 
 
 It was a wonderful dash — all done in haste and fury. 
 He rode about Prince Maurice who was bringing up the 
 artillery to his brother at Hereford, and swept ofiE every 
 draught horse within the bounds of six shires. He 
 swooped upon Islip, and routed Northampton with a 
 great loss. And here for the second time Hal's new regi- 
 ment learned steadiness, for it was their lot to charge 
 under a fire from the enemy's field-pieces. The fight 
 befell on an evening of drenching rain, and the Cam- 
 bridgeshire men looked grimmer than usual as they thrust 
 down the points of their " pots " over their eyebrows so 
 that the drops might not spoil their sword-play. 
 
 Thereafter Hog Lane for the first time spoke civilly to 
 the newcomers, and intimated that in a hundred years or 
 so they might become soldiers, or at least something 
 vaguely approaching thereto. 
 
 Hog Lane was mostly slim, dark, restless-eyed, true 
 storks of the fens. The Cambridgers on the other hand 
 were tall, stolid men, with square shoulders, high-narrow 
 foreheads, prominent cheek-bones. They were strong 
 Puritans — Presbyterians or Congregationalists — and they 
 cared for their horses as if they had been children. 
 Cromwell passed and said a word of praise and encour- 
 agement to the debutants. He crossed Hog Lane with a 
 mere nod, which was the greatest compliment of all, in 
 that it said, " No need to waste words on you. We are 
 acquainted, you and I ! " 
 
 And Hog Lane felt the honour thus done them as it 
 were in secret, and thrilled to their hearts' deepest deeps. 
 Little rest for man or beast during the great ride round 
 Oxford — a few hours to rest and feed the horses, then 
 Allister's bugle-call (for in those days the "music" of 
 the Slepe Troop was Cromwell's shadow). 
 
 " Ta — ra — ta — ra — ra — ra!"
 
 THE GREAT RAID 285 
 
 And instantly the remains of the pasty were wrapped 
 in paper and thrust into saddle-bags, long boots were 
 pulled up, sword-belts tightened, pistols and flints clicked, 
 charges drawn, reloaded, and reprimed. Out in the chill 
 air damp from the woods of the new spring, a fine 
 drizzling rain was falling and the men sat lower on their 
 horses, their helmets shining with moisture. Here they 
 must go warily and by night. A guide had been obtained, 
 a gold piece given him to purchase good behaviour, and 
 Ireton's pistol cocked behind his ear in case of treachery. 
 So led and protected the party set forward. Often the 
 road was so abominable that they took to the higher 
 woods. 
 
 Once or twice they heard the crackling of branches 
 among the brushwood to the left, the shouting of a gay 
 chorus. The neigh of a horse would betray their pres- 
 ence, but the Prince's patrol party sent out to search for 
 them went merrily by, careless of being heard, noisy and 
 reckless as a party of boys nutting among the hazels in 
 late October. Crack ! A musket went off and for a mo- 
 ment there is quite audible stir among the silent ranks on 
 the hillside. Had the jabberers stumbled upon a troop 
 of Ironsides ? No, some light-hearted cavalier, filled with 
 good liquor, had fired his piece in the air. 
 
 " Fool ! Dolt ! Calf's head ! " growled Hal between 
 his teeth ; " ah, if I had such a man in my regiment ! " 
 
 But Hog Lane and Cambridgeshire Puritan were alike 
 incapable of any such folly. 
 
 So they passed on, keeping within view of Rupert's 
 camp fires on the slopes of the Hereford hills. Once 
 they approached so near that Hal could see the sentry 
 set his musket against a tree and sit down to warm his 
 heels at the fire. Above was another fire, six guns 
 strongly guarded, stranded there for want of the horses 
 which General Cromwell was carefully shepherding be- 
 fore him in his great circular " drive " through the heart 
 of the King's country.
 
 286 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 The command lived well, though meals were a little 
 irregular — consisting of supper principally, with what 
 remained over for a hasty breakfast in the morning. 
 Long-legged, lean-ribbed Berkshire pigs roamed the 
 woods. Poultry was plentiful, and Cromwell paid fair 
 prices when the owner could be found. In the villages no 
 men were to be seen — all swept off into the King's array, 
 or gone into hiding. But the women came out in their 
 smocks and clean white caps to welcome the first Par- 
 liament men they had ever seen. 
 
 At Bampton there was a smart fight before Sir William 
 Vaughan could be dislodged, but Hal and his men who 
 were scouting towards Fardingdon, only came in for the 
 short pursuit. " We are pressed for time. I am in 
 enemy's country, therefore I prefer to do the retreating 
 myself ! " was Cromwell's version of his tactics. 
 
 " Come down and fight, Marius, if thou be a great 
 General,'' quoted Hal to Ireton who loved learning. 
 
 " Aye, and what said Marius, I forget the tag ? " 
 
 Marius answered to his adversary. " Nay, if thou be 
 a great General, force me to come down and fight ! " 
 
 " Good — good," approved Ireton ; " college lore never 
 yet spoilt sword-stroke. Go on to thy Cambridgeshire, 
 and give them no Plutarch, but the solid Scripture. ' The 
 horseman lifteth up the bright sword, and there is a 
 multitude of slain. . . . They stumble over their corpses.' 
 Surely old Nahum the prophet had our General in his 
 eye. Come, let us see if you are as ready with Holy Writ 
 as with your Plutarch." 
 
 " Upon the bridles of his horses there shall be writ- 
 ten " 
 
 " Holiness unto the Lord," quoth Hal promptly. 
 
 " Excellent young man ! " said Ireton, with something 
 as approaching cordiality as he ever showed. " We shall 
 make it the watchword for the night." 
 
 They were turning full circle now, and the broad 
 swathe of conquered and desolated territory began to
 
 THE GREAT RAID 287 
 
 dose round Oxford. Tewkesbury, Gloucester, and Ciren- 
 cester, Crickdale, and Malmesbury. These were now 
 solid for the Parliament — at least so long as Oliver's arm 
 rested upon them, and as the preachers reminded them 
 " the snorting of his horses was heard unto Dan." 
 
 " All very well, Mr. Mayor," quoth Cromwell, who 
 harboured no illusions, " but you will bring the same 
 address to Rupert when he comes, and just so your 
 burgesses will wave flags and your commons shout. We 
 are deliverers and so will they be. But take good heed, 
 friend, it shall not always be so, and you and your 
 facing-both-ways gentry will learn that ' Whosoever is 
 not for us is against us.' So a good morning to you, 
 Mr. Mayor, and better consistency of behaviour when 
 next we meet." 
 
 And so terrible was the look in Cromwell's eye that the 
 Mayor betook himself to bed, resigned his chain of office, 
 and never again took part in public business either of 
 town or county. 
 
 Two strange incidents marked for Colonel Hal Ludlow 
 the close of the Great Raid. News had been received that 
 from the west Oxford city lay wholly exposed. Where- 
 upon Hal had been at once consulted, and gave his 
 opinion that a strong party of horsemen might very well 
 ride to the walls of Oxford, rolling up and destroying 
 everything in its way. 
 
 " But," he added with the curt decision which came 
 natural to him, " even you yourself could do no more than 
 flout them. You could not carry off the cannon you might 
 take. You do not want prisoners, and cavalry are of 
 no use against solid and well-guarded walls." 
 
 " But are they ? " demanded Cromwell. 
 
 " My eyes have seen," Hal answered ; " but for all 
 that gladly will I go and make sure." 
 
 " I am no unfriend to plainness of speech," said 
 Cromwell ; " I can do something in that way myself 
 upon occasion, as you know. Go then. Colonel, take your
 
 288 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 command and ride to Oxford, picking up what you can 
 on the way." 
 
 Hal bowed his head, and Ireton frowned a Httle because 
 he thought that, as the senior, the post of danger should 
 have been his. But Cromwell, who as good leader of 
 men divined all things, tapped him on the shoulder. 
 " Tut, man, tut," he said in his ear. " Let the young man 
 knock his head against a wall. It will do him good. But 
 you — I have need of you at my elbow ! " 
 
 And Ireton, swift to anger but easily pacified, used the 
 old and well-beloved title. " Colonel," he said, " I am 
 a fool ! " 
 
 " 'Tis no fool who knows that of himself," said Crom- 
 well. 
 
 Meanwhile Hal rode on towards the loyal city, whose 
 very bells proclaimed, week-day and Sunday, the divine 
 right. 
 
 " God bless King Charles — 
 Cod bless — God bless King Charles, 
 
 Cast down all knaves 
 
 Into deep graves, 
 GOD BLESS KING CHARLES!" 
 
 And the last prayer was sent throbbing into space with 
 such a clash and clangour of brazen sound that the 
 Cambridgers, hearing it afar ofl, looked at each other 
 and marvelled. 
 
 A few miles from Oxford, Hal's " forlorn " came quite 
 unexpectedly upon a snug little camp surrounding a park 
 of siege artillery. The smoke of the evening fires was 
 going peacefully up and the men lounged smoking and 
 gossiping about, some with their backs against trees, 
 and other merely idle and waiting for supper. 
 
 Into this peaceful and almost familiar scene the Iron- 
 sides charged full tilt. Hal had ordered them not to be 
 too intent on killing. It would be enough to make the 
 rogues run, and then destroy their pieces and ammuni- 
 tion. And, indeed, the flat of the sword vi^as more used
 
 THE GREAT RAID 289 
 
 that evening than the edge. Few of the cavaliers had so 
 much as a sword or pistol about them when suddenly 
 out of the gloaming mists they saw endless files of steel- 
 clad men charging upon them with the famous Puritan 
 shout, " The Sword of the Lord." Now this was enough 
 to daunt mounted men in array of battle. But the poor 
 artillerymen had scarcely time to snatch a horse's bridle 
 and ride off before the enemy was among them. Lucky 
 it was that not a pistol was fired, for had it been other- 
 wise, they might have been ridden down like sheep. 
 
 Hal sent Zered to head them off the Oxford road, so 
 that they might not carry the news of his coming to the 
 city. 
 
 A pavilion in the centre of the encampment remained 
 closed and silent in the midst of all this hubbub. Could 
 it be that Maurice the Prince was on his way with the 
 guns for Rupert at Hereford? With a heart that beat 
 at the thought of such a captive, Hal lifted the fold of the 
 tent door. A woman in a pale blue robe falling in folds 
 to her feet, and belted with a golden girdle fine as spun 
 silk, stood before him. 
 
 The Lady Lulu, paralysed with terror at the stern 
 shouting of the Ironsides, stood a moment transfixed with 
 astonishment before what her eyes revealed to her — an 
 array of glittering swords, tossing horses' heads, jingling 
 bridles, and all the panoply of war. Such men as she had 
 never seen were before her, every detail of their outfit 
 as austerely practical as their visages. 
 
 She stood a moment astonished and as it seemed be- 
 wildered. Then feeling instinctively where there was 
 hope for her, she threw herself forward towards Hal and 
 clung desperately to his stirrup. 
 
 " Save me — save me," she gasped, turning upward 
 the wild eyes and pale lips of the most beautiful face in 
 the world. 
 
 "God in his heaven, Melchior!" she cried and fell 
 fainting among the horses' feet. Hereward trod deli-
 
 290 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 cately and did her no harm, leaping aside daintily as a 
 doe leaps a fence on her way to the drinking pool. 
 
 But Hal Ludlow — Colonel Henry Ludlow — was in an 
 evil pass, for there sat watching him five hundred good 
 Puritans, Calvinists, and Anabaptists — with extremely 
 acute views as to the total depravity of man, and of that 
 original sin to which he had doubtless added much actual 
 transgression. 
 
 But our hero's heart had that of stubbornness in it 
 which fitted him to be a Colonel of Ironsides at twenty- 
 one, and also perhaps to rule in the hearts of women — to 
 wit, stubbornness and also that touch of brutality which 
 has been noticed before. 
 
 Not a line of his face moved as he sat and regarded the 
 Lady Lulu. 
 
 " Here, Lieutenant Zered, and you Sergeant Royds, 
 take the lady to her tent, and see that she is sent back 
 to Oxford under a guard after our demonstration of 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 But in spite of all his steadiness and self-command, 
 there were some among his followers who communed 
 thoughtfully the one with the other. 
 
 " ' Melchior — Melchior,' she called him Melchior. I 
 wonder why — perhaps because he came out of the East — 
 * bringing presents ! ' " chuckled another. " He knows 
 more about women than their maiden names, doth our 
 Colonel — and i'faith, come to think on't, was he not 
 ' broke ' from the Slepe Troop for ' petticoating '? " 
 
 Such a thing it is to have a reputation ready made, 
 but curiously enough the sternest Puritan of them all 
 thought no worse of him. 
 
 " Did you see how he met it ? " they summed up the 
 case for the defence. " He is not one ever to shame us. 
 He puts Hog Lane and the Good Cause before any petti- 
 coat that ever rustled." " Aye, he does that — and the 
 more's the wonder, he so young and all." 
 
 And in the meantime with something very like oaths —
 
 THE GREAT RAID 291 
 
 an hard thing to say of so good a man — Zered Tuby 
 stood watching the recovery of the Lady Lulu. Zered 
 was no more sentimental than a piece of wood, and the 
 Lady Lulu had no chance of cozening him to let her see 
 his Colonel. But at present he was employed in abusing 
 that Colonel, who had left him planted there — " like a 
 calf in Horeb, like a tent-keeper in Baal-Peor." 
 
 What cryptic meaning was hidden in the last phrase 
 is known only to Zered, but he was manifestly well 
 pleased with it, for he repeated it in various forms. 
 
 " I am made a door-keeper in the tents of Baal-Peor. 
 What have I to do with Midianitish women with jewels 
 on their ears and rings on their fingers? And all the 
 while my master Zimri, that son of Salu, is riding out on 
 his * forlorn ' never thinking of me, his lieutenant, an old 
 leather-headed beast who would sell his soul to give him 
 pleasure ! " 
 
 Then at last Zered could stand it no longer. His horse 
 was stamping without. Doe Royds was a good man. He 
 would convey her safely even as the Colonel commanded. 
 After all, why need he stay? 
 
 So, having laid strict injunctions upon Doe Royds, 
 that trusted soldier, he mounted and rode off after the 
 regiment, having disobeyed orders for the first and last 
 time in his life.
 
 XXXIII ' 
 
 THE HEWING OF AGAG 
 
 ZERED arrived in time to hear Allister of the Slepe 
 Troop, lent by the Commander-in-Chief for the 
 occasion, summon the Virgin city to surrender " in 
 the name of General Cromwell, of the Lords and Com- 
 mons of England." 
 
 It was done in mockery, and was doubtless a hard 
 thing to bear for so loyal and haughty a city. 
 
 " They flout us to our beards," cried a secretary of 
 State. " Well have they chosen their time, when the 
 King's army is already in Devon, and Rupert sitting idle 
 and horseless at Hereford." 
 
 So having done his part, Hal brought back his regiment 
 to the artillery camp, destroyed the guns and finding the 
 pavilion deserted, rode towards his rendezvous with 
 Cromwell without giving a thought to the Lady Lulu, 
 who had indeed put his repute in some jeopardy, but to 
 whom after all both he and the Good Cause owed much. 
 He had put her into safety where she would live her own 
 life. The Jews had no dealings with the Samaritans — or, 
 if they had, be sure that the Samaritans, a simple pastoral 
 people, had the worst of it. 
 
 Hal had been too busy looking out for rushes and am- 
 buscades before the walls of Oxford to give any attention 
 to the Hog Laners, of whose steadiness he was sure in all 
 circumstances. Still less did he suspect the presence 
 among them of Lieutenant Zered who discreetly com- 
 manded from the rear. 
 
 So when he thought at all of the Lady Lulu, it was of 
 her as safe under the protection of Zered and that brave 
 
 292
 
 THE HEWING OF AGAG 
 
 and trusted soldier Sergeant-Major Doe Royds of the 
 Hog Lane Troop. 
 
 It chanced that they were marching towards their 
 rendezvous, scattering a Httle and beating the woods as 
 they went, when far off and indistinct at the end of the 
 green vista Hal saw a figure flit — flit across and disap- 
 pear in the thick brushwood. It was but an instant, but 
 Hal could have sworn that he recognised the red coat 
 and white badges of the Hog Lane Troop. And what 
 was a Hog Laner doing there without his horse? Why 
 again did he skulk and disappear at sight of his com- 
 rades? For whoever he might be, he must know that 
 orderly and silent advance. 
 
 Hal instantly touched Hereward with the spur, not to 
 hurt but as a simple indication that he was to do his best. 
 Hereward threw up his head with something like in- 
 dignation. Charge? How could anyone charge among 
 trees, and if he, Hereward, did charge into such a den of 
 small brittle sticks, snapping and spitting like cats and 
 scratching his legs, which of these lumbering Cam- 
 bridgeshire brutes could follow him? Nevertheless, be- 
 cause he knew better than to dispute a command, Here- 
 ward launched himself down the long clearing, and Hog 
 Lane, with Zered now shamelessly in front (and willing 
 to lie as to how he got there), followed as best it might. 
 
 It was a long and difficult chase. A man can conceal 
 himself in so many different places in a wood, or lie 
 hidden among leaves and roots under lee of an upturned 
 pine which has brought away the earth with it. 
 
 Such a game of hide-and-seek was never dreamed of. 
 The troop might have been cut off to a man had an 
 ambush been in readiness. They were scattered, seeking 
 they knew not what or whom — though the veterans 
 thought that it must be a spy. But on the edge of the 
 wood, mounted on his own horse, alert and soldier-like, 
 they came upon Doe Royds riding tranquilly towards 
 them.
 
 294* HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 He saluted promptly at sight of Hal and the disor- 
 dered bushwhackers behind him. 
 
 "I have come back to join my troop," he said, 
 
 "And where is Captain Tuby?" Hal demanded, his 
 soul angered at the strange turn of affairs. 
 
 " The Captain rode on ahead. He was anxious to see 
 Oxford ! " 
 
 " Anxious to see Oxford," cried Hal. " Why, if he 
 has arrived, did he not report to me — and where is the 
 lady?" 
 
 " She is in safety among her friends. She sent her 
 compliments and thanks for the safe-conduct." 
 
 And immediately at these words a suspicion of Doe 
 Royds began to form itself in the breast of Colonel 
 Ludlow. 
 
 " Get out of this wood," he exclaimed. " Close up 
 about that man. Take his weapons from him, Royds, 
 you are under arrest. Take those pistols. Now we shall 
 look into the matter." 
 
 With some difficulty the troops drew clear of the patch 
 of woodland, and there on the open space of green, 
 smooth and short, turfed like a parade-ground, Hal got 
 his dishevelled regiment into order. He was only in 
 time, for General Cromwell and his staff rode up just as 
 the captains were gathering about to hear Doe Royds' 
 explanation. 
 
 " What of Oxford ? " cried the General, his brown face 
 working with eagerness. 
 
 " We captured and destroyed twelve of Rupert's guns, 
 because we could not bring them off. Then we rode 
 straight up to the walls and by trumpet sound sum- 
 moned the city to surrender in the name of General 
 Cromwell, of the Houses and the Lord." 
 
 " Good," said Cromwell, " and what answered the 
 garrison ? " 
 
 " Only with a straggling fire of muskets which did no 
 harm, and a few round shots which passed over our
 
 THE HEWING OF AGAG 296 
 
 heads. So thinking I had done all you would wish, I 
 brought off my men." 
 
 Cromwell nodded and glanced at Doe Royds. " Whom 
 have we here? A senior sergeant of Hog Lane without 
 arms ? " 
 
 " He is under arrest — I have summoned the officers to 
 examine his story," said Hal, who was unwilling to in- 
 culpate Zered or to mention the name of the Lady 
 Lulu. 
 
 " Ah, a drumhead court-martial," said Cromwell. " I 
 conduct these things myself. Ah, sirrah, what would you 
 there? Ireton, get down and search among the grass. 
 I saw something drop from his left hand ! " 
 
 Doe Royds turned instantly, put spurs to his horse, and 
 was plunging into the wood, but Hereward was in- 
 finitely faster and quicker. Hal's sword was at the man's 
 throat, and Zered coming behind took his horse's head 
 and led him back into the circle of waiting officers. After 
 that one dash for liberty. Doe Royds resigned himself 
 doggedly to fate, and from that moment no shade 
 of hope or fear crossed the dense sullenness of his 
 countenance. His small deep-set eyes glittered as 
 he followed the movements of the seekers among the 
 grass. 
 
 At last, after an interminable pause, Ireton uttered a 
 shout of horror, and leaping to his feet held something 
 which glittered and was white — something which made 
 the cheeks of even those seasoned warriors turn pale and 
 the breath wheeze in their throats as they gasped for 
 breath. 
 
 It was a woman's forefinger, delicately formed, and 
 very white. It had been cut off near the knuckle-joint, 
 and carried upon it a large ruby ring, heart-shaped, and 
 set about with diamonds. 
 
 Nothing was heard for a minute while Cromwell 
 examined the relic, with a face so terrible that innocent
 
 296 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 men shrank from it. Then he took a folded white ker- 
 chief from the breast of his tunic, wrapped the poor 
 fragment with reverence within, and carefully placed it 
 in his holster. 
 
 " Where shall we find the woman to whom this be- 
 longed? Speak, traitor — you have worn the uniform. 
 You have had honour among comrades. You have not 
 feared death. Speak now. Where is the woman ? " 
 
 But Doe Royds looked him through with eyes of red 
 coal and kept silence. 
 
 " Search him ! " commanded the General. 
 
 From his pockets and the folds of his garments where 
 they had been roughly sewn they took a double handful 
 of jewels, rings mostly, but a sprinkling also of brooches, 
 chains, and bracelets. A rich tiara of brilliants had been 
 rudely broken as with a sword-hilt and the fragments 
 heaped into the bottom of his holster where they were 
 covered with a torn lace veil. 
 
 And then came Zered — Zered who had never been in 
 fault before, confessing bitterly, how he had longed to 
 see Oxford and to be with Hog Lane at the flouting of 
 the enemy's proudest citadel. 
 
 He had left his Sergeant-Major to carry out the orders 
 which had been entrusted to him and 
 
 " We will attend to your case immediately, Captain 
 Tuby," broke in Cromwell. " Lead on — let us find — 
 what there is to find." 
 
 So Zered led the way towards the pavilion among the 
 burst and cracked cannon, and among all that cavalcade 
 which followed him there was no man whose face was so 
 serene and impassable as the Sergeant-Major of Hog 
 Lane, though he rode with his feet tied under his horse's 
 belly and without any hope in his heart. For he alone 
 knew what they were going to find. 
 
 And what they did find was the Lady Lulu with two 
 deep stabs in her breast, lying pale as a lily amid the 
 stained disorder of her white robe.
 
 THE HEWING OF AGAG 297 
 
 " He brought her back — she was not there when we 
 came from Oxford," said Zered. 
 
 The council of the Captains was soon over. The pun- 
 ishment was in the General's hands, but all knew that it 
 would be exemplary and worthy of that stern and terrible 
 imagination. Cromwell ordered two graves to be dug 
 with the entrenching tools found in the camp, one in the 
 open square facing the pavilion, and the other far away 
 under the first green fir boughs at the edge of the wood, 
 where a wealth of primroses delicately pale looks down 
 on a little babbling brook. 
 
 The Lady Lulu had brave and honourable burial. 
 General Cromwell did nothing by halves. So the body 
 was brought out, swathed in her own coverlet of rose silk 
 and creamy lace. The folded kerchief which had come 
 from Dame Cromwell's housewifery store was laid within 
 the folds. The Captains carried her on their shoulders, 
 Zered taking the right, and by this he knew that he was 
 forgiven. They laid her gently down among the red 
 earth, the men leaning on their spades and pickaxes as if 
 they had been on duty at a dangerous outpost. Every 
 man's face wore a stern and waiting aspect. Hog Lane 
 had been disgraced, but they must clear the troop of that 
 stain. The regiment took station about the grave, while 
 Cromwell, bareheaded and helmet in hand, said a brief 
 prayer of pity and leave-taking. 
 
 He stood back, and the three volleys of the firing party 
 crashed out. Then before the smoke had cleared away 
 the grave was filled up and the green sods replaced. 
 Allister's trumpet rang out in the funeral call. This 
 (the men averred) was what it said: — 
 
 The End of All 
 
 Am I come. 
 Wea rily — wea rily, 
 
 Glad to be done, 
 I lay me down 
 
 Cheerily — cheerily.
 
 298 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 But to none in the regiment did the burial-call speak 
 with its old appeal. All sympathised with Hog Lane, 
 and Hog Lane had no thoughts to waste on sentiment. 
 They had buried the dead with honour — now they must 
 cleanse their dishonour. 
 
 " He shall be tried by his peers," said the General. 
 " God forbid that we should condemn any man un- 
 heard." But Doe Royds, though threatened with death, 
 confronted with evidence — the dagger with his name en- 
 graven on the blade, found cast away among the rubbish 
 of the deserted camp, the great double handful of jewels 
 in his pocket, and the dreadful crowning horror of the 
 severed finger dropped among the grass and discovered 
 by the red shining of the ruby heart — all were in vain. 
 Doe Royds stood silent, impervious to pity, untouched 
 by threats, unblanched by fear. 
 
 And then came the sentence. 
 
 " Doe Royds hath slain and defiled a woman com- 
 mitted to his charge. He hath shamed the good name 
 of his troop and regiment. Let him be hewn in pieces 
 before the Lord." 
 
 The twilight was closing in and the mists rising in the 
 long forest aisles before the preparations were complete. 
 They were rude, but marked by an austere grandeur. A 
 post made out of a felled tree was driven deep into the 
 ground at the head of the grave, and upon this Doe 
 Royds was seated, his legs closely tied about the wood 
 and his arms pinioned behind his back. The badges of 
 Ms rank were torn from his sleeve and destroyed. And 
 then in an impressive silence, the regiment formed three 
 sides of a hollow square facing towards the post. All the 
 western sky was red like blood, and facing it the Ser- 
 geant-Major of the Hog Lane Troop sat immovable on 
 his post, looking in the direction from which his doom was 
 to arrive. Helmet on head, corseleted and breastplated, 
 he waited, an erect and soldierly figure. His face showed 
 no emotion, and he neither vaunted nor wavered. He
 
 THE HEWING OF AGAG 299 
 
 merely sat silent and looked death in the face — so great 
 a thing is personal courage. 
 
 From the other side of the deep grave Cromwell, sur- 
 rounded by his officers, watched the execution of the 
 traitor and slaughterer of women — the first in the new 
 army. 
 
 " Hog Lane," he commanded, " clear your name ! " 
 
 The troopers were gathered at the upper end of the 
 enclosure like men about to ride a tournay. At the word 
 of command they put their horses in motion, riding one 
 by one towards the doomed man, and as they passed at 
 full speed each sword struck a full stroke. A long hollow 
 moaning sound broke from the Cambridgers, massed 
 black against the red sunset. But Hog Lane did not 
 pause nor hesitate. As each horseman went whirling by^, 
 striking and disengaging his arm, another was hard on 
 his horse's heels. Nor did they cease till all that had 
 been Doe Royds had tumbled piecemeal into the grave, 
 the head with the helm still firm upon it, arms, legs, 
 trunk all piecemeal, and the clean, kindly earth pushed 
 down to hide the horror. 
 
 Only the haggled and blood-stained post remained for 
 a memorial, dripping a ghastly viscous dew upon the 
 trampled earth and speckled grass. 
 
 The Cambridgers filed out, silent and afraid, their skin 
 mere creeping gooseflesh upon them, and wet with a 
 clammy sweat as chill as death. 
 
 But Hog Lane, though stained red as after battle, rode 
 with heads up, alert and determined under the stars. 
 Their eyes had seen, their swords tasted, the vengeance 
 of the Lord and of Oliver Cromwell. They had cleared 
 their honour, and in the silent glade where they had left 
 two graves, the haggled post would stand as their memo- 
 rial. Winter rains would wash it clean, the grass would 
 grow about it, but the scars and notches, never made by 
 axe, would remain to testify how Hog Lane had wiped 
 out the sin of Doe Royds, Sergeant-Major of their array.
 
 XXXIV 
 
 NASEBY MORNING 
 
 y^LL yesterday the army of the New Model had 
 /A poured northward through Northamptonshire to 
 check the King's advance towards Yorkshire and 
 Scotland, where Montrose had been winning great vic- 
 tories. 
 
 " Come thou thyself," he had triumphantly written to 
 Charles, " lest the country be called by my name." 
 
 But Cromwell was keen and anxious, and succeeded 
 in making Fairfax as keen as himself. Part of the New 
 Model horse and all of the foot were raw troops and had 
 never seen a battle. 
 
 " Well then," said Cromwell, " the sooner they see one 
 the better. We will brigade them with the veterans." 
 
 Upon Naseby Broad Moor he had his way. He forced 
 a battle upon the King, and Rupert, ever willing to 
 fight, was opposed to Ireton and the new horse. Through 
 these Rupert broke, head down like a bull through a 
 thin hedge; Ireton was wounded, but nevertheless he 
 easily rallied the better regiments of his horse about him. 
 As usual, Rupert had spurred on and was soon out of the 
 fight, drunken with apparent success and furious that 
 the baggage train should escape him. So Cromwell, 
 without undue haste, divided his Ironsides into two 
 parts^-one to charge the enemy and drive him before 
 them; but the other, which he led himself, he kept in 
 hand to fall upon the Royalist centre. To this belonged 
 the original Ironsides, the Slepe and St. Neot's Troops, 
 Dedham and Hog Lane, with Colonel Hal and his Cam- 
 bridgers. 
 
 300
 
 NASEBY MORNING 301 
 
 When they saw Rupert crumple up Ireton's regiments, 
 plough through them, and disappear, the heart was in 
 Hal's throat. But Cromwell sat holding his reins and 
 glancing this way and that as was his wont. 
 
 " Charging does not win battles," he said, " but 
 knowing when to stop." 
 
 And, indeed, Cromwell never saw a gladder sight (save 
 perhaps one day at Dunbar) than the tails of Rupert's 
 horses disappearing towards the baggage waggons. And 
 then he set himself to crush in the King's army on all 
 sides like a nut in the nut-crackers. 
 
 Some Cromwellians went down shouting, " Thou hast 
 given me the necks of mine enemies," but the old regi- 
 ment sang their favourite: 
 
 "Be thou the Governor!" 
 
 So, long before Rupert had checked his pursuit, the Royal 
 foot had been destroyed or taken, full five thousand of 
 them, the centre and right were in furious rout, and the 
 King had been snatched out of the last clash of arms 
 where he was found wandering, brave as ever but still 
 irresolute. 
 
 No man had more reason to be proud than Cromwell 
 as he gathered in the spoils. His nominal Commander- 
 in-Chief, brave, loyal, and modest like all the Fairfaxes, 
 had served under him like a common soldier. Ireton, 
 of all his officers the closest to his heart, had allowed 
 himself to be sacrificed that Rupert might run himself 
 clear off the field. The Ironsides had driven the York- 
 shire horse before them like blown dust on a highway, 
 while the precious regiments of reserve — the flower of 
 Puritan chivalry— had charged and halted, wheeled and 
 re-charged in front, in flank, and in rear till there was 
 never an army in England fit to fight a pitched battle 
 under the Royal colours. 
 
 " I could not," said Cromwell, " riding alone about 
 my business, but smile to God in praises, thinking how,
 
 302 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 out of a company of poor ignorant men, and out of 
 things that are not, He had brought to naught things that 
 are — cast down the mighty from their seats and exahed 
 them of low degree ! " In one day Naseby Hill and the 
 crushing of the King upon Broad Moor made Cromwell 
 the first man in England. The ride round Oxford had 
 cut the loyal part of England as with a sharp sword. 
 Naseby ended the great battles in the field, army ranked 
 against army. There were many good fights yet to be 
 fought, many strongholds held by brave men and women 
 to be reduced. But all that became an affair of time 
 merely, and for this Cromwell gave God the glory. 
 
 " The shadow of death hath been turned into morning 
 by Him who made Orion and the seven stars." 
 
 Which was true, but the man who had made the Slepe 
 Troop, and after that the Ironside Horse, and last of all 
 the New Model Army, counted for something too. 
 
 And instantly like the passing of a furious tempest, 
 the thunder of war ceased and the sunshine brightened 
 all men's faces. Specially was this the case in the East- 
 ern Counties. They had borne the burden and heat of 
 the day. Theirs were the men who had won the victory. 
 The dead were their sons and brothers. Cromwell, that 
 Arm of the Lord, was bone of their bone, flesh of their 
 flesh. 
 
 The bells of Maldon rang out bravely that bright 
 Sunday morning when the news of Naseby Fight reached 
 the little town. The burgesses went processioning in 
 their best, winding up with morning thanksgiving in the 
 church. 
 
 There was no mistake this time. The enemy was 
 routed, horse, foot, and artillery, and would never make 
 a stand in England again. The ministers preached, good 
 Presbyterians all, sober and learned men, but dwelling 
 in harmony with the sectaries and speaking respectfully 
 of every man's belief. The news had come first to Dan- 
 bury Towers, from which a flying messenger had been
 
 NASEBY MORNING 303 
 
 despatched to Maldon — direct from Dame Cromwell to 
 her friend Mistress Staines of the West House, whose 
 servant Anne was even now hanging out flags and strips 
 of red flannel in festoons over the front doors, plain to 
 be seen of all men. 
 
 At the Towers, everything was in a joyous confusion. 
 Dame Cromwell, between laughter and tears, was hastily 
 packing up to go back to Ely. My Lord's coach was 
 being prepared for the journey, and such of the house- 
 hold as could be spared were to ride with the convoy. 
 Lady Molly made no attempt to retain her guests. She 
 was troubled and uneasy, and by the haste and temper 
 which she manifested among the stablemen and pos- 
 tilions, she seemed rather anxious than otherwise to get 
 rid of her guests. 
 
 Indeed, she loved Bess and Bridget both, and especially 
 (as all must) she loved the good Dame Elizabeth, but she 
 had that upon her mind which made her restless and un- 
 satisfied. She longed to have a wide and empty dwelling 
 and to be responsible to no man for her outgoings and 
 incomings. 
 
 Dame Cromwell neither claimed nor assumed any 
 authority in the house. But she was so genuinely anxious 
 and grieved if Lady Molly were late for a meal, or not 
 present at the time of reading evening prayer, that rather 
 than vex that loving motherly heart, which yearned over 
 her as over her own daughters, the Lady Molly forbore 
 many an interesting sea adventure and wild course among 
 the woods and dunes. 
 
 So no sooner had adieux been said, and the lumbering 
 coach-and-six with its guards and running footmen had 
 disappeared over the brow of the hill, than the Lady 
 Molly, who had watched them out of sight from the 
 stair-landing outside the house, the stone " perron," 
 as it was called at the time, turned away with a sigh and 
 ran upstairs. 
 
 She came down in half an hour, her hair in waving love-
 
 S04. HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 locks about her shoulders and carrying a bundle under 
 her arm. Without once looking behind her, the Lady 
 Molly cut across the belt of grass in front of the house, 
 threaded her way among the shrubberies of laurel and 
 evergreen bushes her father had brought back with him 
 from Holland after his exile, and letting herself out at 
 the water-port, entered the dense woods which stretched 
 down from the base of Danbury Hill to the sea. 
 
 She moved nimbly as a cat among the debris of fallen 
 trees and rotten branches. No crackle of broken brush- 
 wood, or twig snapping marked her nrogress. Now and 
 then the shining curls flowing upon lier shoulders, tied in 
 a true love-knot, could be seen flitting across a glade 
 where the sunshine wavered in golden blots and wavering 
 patches. But before the eye could take in the rest of her 
 figure, it had melted again into the deep green solitude 
 of the leaves, which are here so dense and umbrageous 
 that even the winds were still and no birds sang. 
 
 Molly made straight for a little creek which ran up 
 from the estuary. Here in a well-kept boat-house my 
 Lord had several boats, from a tiny skiff to the ten-ton 
 sloop in which, when occasion called for sudden ex- 
 patriation, he had more than once made the voyage to 
 Holland. 
 
 Letting herself in with her pass key, the Lady Molly 
 soon had the oars in the skiff, and, having again secured 
 the door, let herself drop down the narrow waterway 
 easily and silently. The fresh breath of the inpouring 
 salt water, grey-green and troubled from the North Sea, 
 aided her to keep the boat's head in the direction of 
 Colonel Cromwell's deserted fortification on the lower 
 point of Osea Island. Indeed, she had little more to do 
 than steady the boat with a stroke or two of the steering 
 oar till the high trees of Osea rose against a pensive 
 horizon of primrose and violet. 
 
 Lady Molly was speeding to find Nefia la Fain. For by 
 the common report upon embroidering which the Crom-
 
 NASEBY MORNING 305 
 
 well girls had expended all the wealth of their imagina- 
 tion, Neiia had been to Oxford with Hal Ludlow in the 
 famous spying venture which had won him his colonelcy, 
 and so nearly cost him his neck. She had gone dis- 
 guised, as the slave of a necromancer, and had returned 
 driving two asses, and — what was more mysterious than 
 all — she had not stirred off Osea Island since, nor yet 
 had Hal Ludlow visited her. 
 
 All this wrought powerfully on the imagination of the 
 Lady Molly. It was gall and wormwood to her to think 
 that another had dared life and honour for her old com- 
 rade Hal, put her all at his service, told fortunes and 
 performed antics before gaping troops and stolid villagers, 
 seen the King and the great camp with him, and re- 
 turned to obscurity that he might have the glory and the 
 honour. No, that was stupidity. She, Lady Molly, 
 would have stayed and had her part of what honour was 
 going. If she had done all that — she would not have 
 come quietly back and gone on fishing and looking her 
 stake-nets with the silent Huguenot Wassailer for all 
 companion, save the gulls and curlews flying in flocks 
 overhead. 
 
 She found Neiia busy in the house. Her hair was 
 growing again, clustering about her ears and falling low 
 upon her neck. Her brown colour was now no deeper 
 than it had always been, but under the lace collar of her 
 dress she still wore the silver collar with the inscription, 
 " Sidi, slave of Melchior the Mage." Within the first 
 minute of their interview the Lady Molly had divined 
 what the white ripples of lace about Neria's neck con- 
 cealed, and within her the soul was consumed with 
 envy. She could hardly be civil and yet she must, for 
 all depended upon that. 
 
 " I am weary of great houses and entertaining great 
 folks," she cried. " I have come down here to you. Oh, 
 the servants — they will think nothing save that I have 
 gone ofif to London. They are accustomed to me. They
 
 306 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 were all there when we defended the place — for do not 
 forget that I have seen war and danger as well as you. 
 But oh, I need not pretend. I grill and boil when I think 
 what you must have done and known. If only he had 
 asked me — but no, that could not be. There are too 
 many at Oxford who would have known me." 
 
 " But not as a slave-boy with your hair cut and dyed, 
 a stain upon your face, silver rings in your ears, your 
 legs bare and brown with silver chains tinkling about 
 your ankles " 
 
 " Oh," cried Lady Molly exasperated, " how dare you 
 remind me? I can hear them ringing — and I have 
 pretty ankles — why was I not born a gipsy and taught 
 
 conjurmg 
 
 " I could really do very httle," said Nefia softly, " and 
 I was well paid for my pains. Look at my wages ! " 
 And she pointed to the two grey asses tranquilly crop- 
 ping the thistles and bent grass on the slope beneath the 
 house. 
 
 But Lady Molly would have none of this. She knew 
 better. " You — you need not trouble to talk of wages 
 to me — you went because of the adventure and to be 
 with him. You took my place. He ought to have thought 
 of me . . . for I love him ! " 
 
 " Ah," said Nefia with sad tranquillity, " do you love 
 him also? " 
 
 "Also? Then you confess it. Oh, it is shameless. 
 But, of course, I knew it. I knew it always. Why else 
 should a girl follow a young man, if not for love? You 
 have robbed me of what was mine from the time when I 
 was a long-legged child climbing trees and mocking him 
 from the branches that he might catch me and carry me 
 home. You have stolen Hal from me, Neiia la Fain, and 
 I shall never forgive you." 
 
 " You are quite wrong," said Nefia, " he never lifted 
 an eye upon me, nor touched me with his hand. He was 
 all for his mission and the regiment he was to gain. Be-
 
 NASEBY MORNING 307 
 
 sides, there were others — princesses and companions of 
 princes, who were more useful to him than either you or 
 I — to them he listened — only too readily ! " 
 
 " Ah, do not tell me," cried the Lady Molly, stopping 
 her ears, " the madams, the hoydens, the evil minxes. 
 I will not hear a word against him. But please go on — 
 ah, quickly. Tell me all about them." 
 
 " There was but one. She was a true princess — but 
 she called herself the Lady Lulu. She followed him from 
 the first sight of his face " 
 
 "And he— did he love her?" 
 
 " Love her ? Can he love any woman ? He treated 
 her as so much earth to be trampled under his feet." 
 
 " I know him. That is his way. So he does with all. 
 But did he Hsten to her?" 
 
 " Listen ? Aye, with both ears and his mouth and his 
 eyes so long as she had anything to tell him." 
 
 " And what did she say to him, this . . . Woman?" 
 
 " Ah, that I do not know. He sent me on errands to 
 keep me out of the way. I leaned against the orchard 
 trees and saw the pavilion glow in the darkness." 
 
 The Lady Molly leaped to her feet with a glad light in 
 her eyes. " Then you do not love him as I love him. 
 I should have crept up like a worm and listened. I 
 should have slit the tent with my dagger point and 
 seen ! " 
 
 " Perhaps there was nothing to hear or see ? At any 
 rate, all he cared about was the number of men and 
 cannon — the size of the pieces and how many horses were 
 ready to draw them, which General was to go with the 
 King and who with the Princes " 
 
 " She told him all these things — the traitress ? " 
 
 " Yes, Lady Molly, a traitress, indeed ! Neither you 
 nor I would have done the like ! " 
 
 There was such a point of irony in this that it aroused 
 Lady Molly. 
 
 " Oh, as for me — I make no secret of it to you — what
 
 308 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 need? You cannot tell me anything about Hal Ludlow 
 I do not know. He is selfish, masterful, not a little brutal. 
 That is his way with women — with you, with me — and 
 I do not doubt with this woman who called herself a 
 princess. What became of her?" 
 
 " He sent her back where she came from, as soon as he 
 had wrung out all she knew, as one squeezes a wet 
 sponge in the hand — so!" 
 
 " And you came back together, you and he ? " 
 
 " He rode straight to Ely where was his General, and 
 I came home driving the asses which I had earned. Are 
 you satisfied ? " 
 
 Lady Molly paused a moment pondering. 
 
 " There is no more in it than that ? " 
 
 " Not so far as I am concerned," said Nefia with the 
 pensive tranquillity she had maintained all through. 
 
 "Then what is that about your neck? If it is not a 
 love gage, show it me?" 
 
 Very quietly the girl undid the fold of lace and showed 
 the broad collar of rough silver. 
 
 " Sidi, slave of Melchior the Mage," she read. " Then 
 you do love him ? " she cried, her first exasperation 
 returning. " Give it me, quick. It is mine. I will have 
 it." 
 
 " You are welcome if you can undo it. But only he 
 who put it on can take it ofif, and I fear he has lost the 
 key. So I shall wear it till I die." 
 
 " I will make him give me one — the same, but heavier 
 and in iron ! " cried impetuous Molly. But Nefia la Fain 
 shook her head. 
 
 " You shall carry your collar, surely, if you love Hal 
 Ludlow as you say. But it need not be in metal nor yet 
 covered with lace. Yet just the same he will clasp it 
 about your neck — and lose the key."
 
 XXXV 
 
 A STATE BANQUET 
 
 IT was the night of a great dinner given by Mr. Chief 
 Commissioner Ludlow in his house in Westminster 
 close by St, Margaret's Church. Even before his 
 Commissionership Mr. Ludlow had been one of the rich- 
 est merchants of the city, and to him before any other the 
 Committee of the Houses had applied for money. If 
 Essex grumbled and demanded payment for his troops, 
 it was from Mr. Commissioner Ludlow that advice was 
 taken how to raise it. He had his hand deep in the 
 finances of the Parliament. He had been contractor for 
 the New Model Army, and now at Ludlow House, close 
 to the centre of authority in England, and acting unseen 
 almost with the power of a spring in a watch-case, the 
 great man had his dwelling. 
 
 His show of gold plate and liveried valetry was such as 
 no nobleman in England was in a position to make at the 
 time. They had grown poorer while, as honestly as any 
 great dealer in money and state contracts may, the 
 Chief Commissioner had waxed ever richer. How rich 
 that was only his chief clerk knew — a little wrinkled man 
 who lived over the Ludlow offices in the East Cheap and 
 rubbed his hands each time he thought of the balance- 
 sheet he would have to show his patron on the thirty- 
 first December of the current year. 
 
 Ludlow House had been built and beautified by a 
 great nobleman now living frugally in Paris on forty 
 sous a day and his gambling gains. But it had been 
 remodelled as a place of entertainment by the Commis- 
 sioner, and Scots Smith, his trusty servant of fifty years, 
 
 809
 
 310 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 was in charge of everything between rooftree and cellar. 
 In spite his name Smith was a border Scot who had 
 come up in the train of King Jamie Baggie Breeches when 
 he brought so many hungry dogs to hunt the forests of 
 England. And Abiathar Smith had hunted well, so well 
 indeed that he had safely stowed away with various 
 trustable jewellers of his master's friends a sum quite 
 large enough to pay for a good estate anywhere between 
 Sanquhar and Nith Waterfoot. And this was the night 
 of the glory of Abiathar, the crown of his pride. As he 
 himself said, he rejoiced like a calf of the stall, like a 
 wild goat upon Mount Carmel. And sometimes (it must 
 be added) his words stung the idle or the stupid like the 
 scorpion of the rocks which carries a sting in its tail. 
 
 " The General Cromwell," announced Abiathar, open- 
 ing the door of the Hall of Assembly, in a lower tone, 
 adding, " Lord save us. Here's promotion ! Maist as 
 great as my ain, though a heap less secure." 
 
 " The General Fairfax, Commander of all the Armies 
 in the Field ! " And then in a lower tone — " Aye battlin' 
 and fetchin', thae Generals, and as like as no turned oot 
 of their job next month — only him wi' the big heid and 
 the wart on his nose will no be easy to turn — aye, a gey 
 dour stick to handle, him." 
 
 With the great props of both Houses were joined a few 
 younger men, soldiers and politicians for the most part, 
 whom the far-seeing Commissioner considered might be 
 of use to his son in his military career. 
 
 Even here, however, Abiathar counselled his master. 
 " The son o' General Qromwell — aye, gie him an invite. 
 It will please his faither and wha kens what may come to 
 pass. And that young Hampden, though he's nocht this 
 day may be as great as his faither was." 
 
 So that on the night of the great dinner in the wains- 
 coted dining-room Hal did not find himself alone wag- 
 ging a young head among the seniors. Yet among those 
 chiefs few showed signs of age. It was a time of shaven
 
 A STATE BANQUET 311 
 
 faces, which of itself so levels men as to make uncertain 
 ten years of their age. 
 
 At the door, and especially outside the archway of the 
 court, the usual motley crowd had gathered, amphibious 
 scum of the ferry landings, haunters of the slips where 
 false watermen touted for tipsy revellers who were next 
 heard of at Greenwich or Rotherhithe. But these had 
 been pushed aside with very little ceremony by the New 
 Model guard, sturdy troopers in red coats, dark grey 
 knee-breeches and top boots, helmeted and breastplated 
 from the wars. The spawn of the Westminster purlieus 
 and the murderous or merely thievish water-rats, male 
 and female after their kind, pushed and crawled among 
 the horses' legs to see the great folk go in. Entertain- 
 ments of that kind came not so frequently as in the day 
 of kings and princes. 
 
 But there was no mistaking that the musket-butts of 
 the Cromwellians were harsher than the halberds of the 
 royal guards. These were men by no means to be trifled 
 with, and so to assauge themselves the cruel crowd 
 turned to rend in pieces anything weak, unknown, or un- 
 protected. A young fellow in a rough costume of sailorly 
 cut, which hung loosely about him, had his pockets picked, 
 and the pickers, not finding enough upon him to quarrel 
 about, promptly knocked him down with a " Take that, 
 loblolly! That's for coming here without your month's 
 pay ! " The lad fell, and would have been trampled to 
 death but that his shrill cry of distress was heard by a 
 sergeant, who promptly rescued him from among the 
 heels of the horses — and only just in time, for the well- 
 exercised troop was pushing the crowd steadily back. An 
 officer upon the steps, standing a moment in conference 
 with the haughty Abiathar, called out sharply, " What is 
 the matter there, Sergeant Peter Yabbs ? " 
 
 " A young man, hurt, asking for the Colonel ! " 
 
 Captain Zered Tuby came down the steps at a run. 
 What interested his superior officer was very much his
 
 313 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 business, and it came upon him that, for reasons which 
 were quite apparent to Zered, his Colonel was often as he 
 expressed it " sore pestered with women, and the poor 
 lad has not the heart to say them nay." He judged that 
 this would be some messenger or servant despatched in 
 haste. At any rate it was no time to have the name of 
 the Colonel of the Cambridgers bandied about in hearing 
 of the mob about his own father's door. 
 
 " This way with him, Yabbs — close up there, men ! " 
 And a young man, his face indistinguishable with dirt 
 and blood, his sailor slops torn to the knee and on his 
 stained features an expression of absolute terror and 
 bewilderment, found himself hoisted up the steps by 
 Zered and Sergeant Yabbs. The door was shut, and be- 
 hind it, in the soft glimmer of many wax candles and the 
 silent to-and-fro of liveried servants, each busy on his 
 affairs, they came face to face with the true master of 
 Ludlow House, Abiathar Smith. 
 
 " What's this — wha are ye bringing into ma clean ha' ? 
 Somebody asking for the Colonel, say ye. What Colonel? 
 Wha needs to be speerin' for a bit Cornel when there's 
 Generals by the hogshead up yonder?" 
 
 " 'Tis Colonel Ludlow the lad is asking for," said 
 Zered shortly, " and what is more, I think he had better 
 see him." 
 
 " Colonel Ludlow, quo he ! " muttered the Scots 
 major-domo, " fegs, it will be oor young Maister Harry 
 he will be wantin'. What deil's ain ploy has the chiel* 
 been at noo? Here, into my private parlour wi' him, 
 and we will make him confess — aye, if we have to put 
 the branks on him ! " 
 
 Zered had to remind him that while branks, pilniewinks 
 and other curiously named instruments of extracting evi- 
 dence might be current in baronial Scotland, they could 
 not be used with impunity in England nor under the 
 shadow of the Houses. 
 
 " But perhaps," suggested Zered, " he is a friend of
 
 A STATE BANQUET 313 
 
 your young master's." Abiathar glanced at the shrinking 
 figure with one look of enveloping scorn. " Him a friend 
 o' Maister Harry's — him! . . . Man, it's little ye ken 
 aboot young Hairry Ludlow. Rather 'tis such as walk 
 haughtily, mincing as they go, in the bravery of their 
 tinkling ornament and their tires round as the moon — 
 it's them that will be the lad's hobby, mair's the peety — ' 
 no the like o' him — a mere wisp o' rags! Dod, but he 
 wad be the better o' a wash. We will tak' him up to 
 Maister Harry's room and lock him in till I get a chance 
 to sough a word in his lug. For ye see the young man's 
 at table — no exactly at the high table. Ye couldna 
 expect that, but kind o' croupier at the foot as becomes 
 his faither's son. But get ye the laddie washed and 
 faceable, Abiathar Smith will be responsible for the 
 rest." 
 
 So it chanced that just as Hal was leaning back after 
 explaining the Cromwellian theory of a cavalry attack to 
 a most worthy member of the Committee of Both King- 
 doms, a voice spoke in his ear. 
 
 " There's a laddie will be wantin' to speak to ye, 
 Maister Hairry. Ye had better gang up to your chamber 
 — as it were, makin' an excuse as that one of your cap- 
 tains is waiting for you — whilk is God's truth and no lie. 
 For Zered Tuby, that Amalakite Anabaptist, is washin' 
 the glaur aff the laddie — aye, and sair he needs it." 
 
 Hal looked much astonished, but excused himself to 
 the company about the table-foot on the plea of military 
 duty. He ran up the stairs three at a time, and bursting 
 in the door with his usual headlong abruptness found 
 Zered putting gold leaf on a cut deep-hidden among the 
 short curls above a young man's brow. He was in shirt- 
 sleeves, and the collar had been torn at the neck by 
 rough hands. Also the youth wept, moaning softly and 
 rocking himself back and forth. 
 
 "Lady Molly!" cried Hal aghast. "What are you 
 doing here? "
 
 314 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 But before he received an answer Zered Tuby had 
 faded from view. Simply he was not, and the door was 
 shut. Even an Anabaptist Hog Laner can conceive when 
 the nature and functions of a gooseberry become super- 
 fluous. 
 
 And still, with her face between her hands, the tears 
 dropping through unregarded, the girl who had held the 
 Towers of Danbury and ridden with Rupert sobbed on 
 convulsively. 
 
 " Oh, the brutes, the brutes ! " she repeated, " they 
 knocked me down and trod upon me, when I only asked 
 for you ! " 
 
 Hal was touched by her distress and kneeled beside her, 
 much perplexed in mind, but still with a sudden hot 
 flush, recognising that, whatever his experiences in " pet- 
 ticoating " may have been, he had never truly cared for 
 anybody but the little Molly Woodham whom he had 
 bullied so. 
 
 He was, however, in no mind for bullying now. 
 
 " But why did you come, and like this — your father is 
 here — in this house?" 
 
 " Oh, will he come in? Lock the door, Hal, my dear 
 Hal. I have been abominable, I know. I am a shameless 
 girl. But oh, I could not have that Nefia going every- 
 where with you, with her conjuring tricks and her silver 
 collar! Oh. it made me desperate. I could not stay. So 
 as my father will not let me marry you, I have run away 
 to be your slave. And you have just got to bear it. For 
 you know you told me that you loved me and wanted me 
 to be your wife. You never said that to her! Swear you 
 did not!" 
 
 " Never — never — not to any her ! " said Hal promptly, 
 performing his function of good male by lying with 
 effrontery. 
 
 " I knew it — I knew it," she whispered, clinging to him. 
 " Let me stay with you. You can get me a silver 
 collar exactly the same — as hers — and if my father
 
 A STATE BANQUET 315 
 
 will not let us marry, he cannot prevent me being your 
 slave." 
 
 Hal felt that it was no use arguing with the Lady Molly 
 in her present state of mind, still stunned by ill-treatment 
 and not yet returned to herself out of the hurly-burly of 
 a world so different from any that she had imagined. 
 
 What should he do with her? My Lord Woodham 
 Walter declined to wed his only daughter to the son of a 
 city merchant and the nephew of the reddest revolu- 
 tionary Anabaptist in England. He could not speak to 
 his father. No, he certainly had no idea of opening such 
 a matter as the presence of Lady Molly in his house to 
 the financier of the Parliament. 
 
 He had it — the General! 
 
 He would rather face the lightning at once than have it 
 strike him if scandal were to come of this. 
 
 " Molly," he said, " stay here. I have military duties 
 to perform, but I promise you to return. Do not be 
 alarmed at the noise of the carriages. My father is giving 
 a great dinner to the chiefs of the Houses. But lest any- 
 one should come in and find you here, I shall lock the 
 door ! " 
 
 Molly clapped her hands and laughed as if everything 
 were now plain before them. She stopped him at the 
 door, running up to him and whispering, " Do not forget 
 the collar — the same size as hers, but heavier! " 
 
 " I shall not forget," he answered gravely and went out, 
 locking and double locking the door after him. 
 
 But as soon as he had passed the portal his face fell. 
 He had as little desire as ever in his Hfe to disturb the 
 great General on such an occasion. He was sure to be in 
 a bad humour, for he loved not what he called " glorify- 
 ings of the flesh," knowing that a man who rode and 
 fought as the greatest cavalry leader in Europe must ride 
 and fight, had better live spare, hard, and clean. Nor 
 would he suffer any others in his command. 
 
 In the dining-room Cromwell, placed between Mr.
 
 816 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 Speaker Lenthal and my Lord of Manchester, neither of 
 whom he loved, leaned back and gazed abstractedly at 
 the massive gilt cornices of the state banquet hall. Really 
 he saw nothing but some vision of red coats galloping 
 through the white reek of battle, or perhaps (and the 
 thing is more likely) his own good Dame at her broider- 
 ing by the fireplace and the children busy with their 
 lessons in the quiet parlour of the Tithe House in Ely 
 Town. 
 
 Hal, with Zered summoned in support of his Colonel, 
 appeared at his elbow. 
 
 " General," he said, " I am sorry to interrupt at such 
 a moment, but I have something of importance to put 
 before you." 
 
 Cromwell, who was bored to distraction, made his 
 excuses and was on his feet in a moment. Every man in 
 the room observed the summons of the General by two 
 of his officers. And heads were drawn together and sur- 
 mises passed from mouth to mouth as to the meaning and 
 outcome of these things. All the world knew that Crom- 
 well had sources of information quite special, and also 
 that, sole among the generals of the Parliament, he had 
 grown great enough to initiate a movement for himself 
 without waiting for orders. Had the King made a dash 
 out of his Oxford fastness? Was another great cavalry 
 raid in prospect? For already the voices of the greatest 
 began singularly to soften, as if already the name of 
 Cromwell had begun to cast, as it were, over the land the 
 Shadow of a Silence. 
 
 Meanwhile in the little hall parlour, with Abiathar's 
 household gods all about — Knox's History of the Refor- 
 mation, Mr. Gillespie's Sermons, the new Truro psalter 
 with many criticisms and suggestions marked in a fair 
 and clerkly hand — Cromwell, seated in the high-backed, 
 soft-cushioned grandfather's chair In which Ablathar took 
 his scanty ease, awaited his officer's report. 
 
 Hal made it as briefly as possible.
 
 A STATE BANQUET 317 
 
 " General," he said, standing stiff by the Httle table, 
 " it is upon my own affairs I have to consult you. It may 
 be known to you that there has long been purpose of 
 marriage between the Lady Molly Woodham and myself. 
 So much was known to your wife and daughters, who 
 showed me sympathy when my Lord forbade me the 
 house." 
 
 Cromwell nodded, but warily, with the air of a man 
 who knows not what he may be called upon to approve. 
 
 " And now, moved by some fancy, she has left home 
 and come hither in a boy's dress, in which she was most 
 inhumanly treated by the crowd outside, from whose 
 hands she was rescued by Zered, and is now in this 
 house." 
 
 " In this house ! " exclaimed Cromwell ; " you go fast, 
 young man. I must have a word with the lady." 
 
 " Upon my word of honour ," began Hal, but 
 
 Cromwell instantly checked him. 
 
 " No need of that," he said, " had it been otherwise 
 you had never dared to face me. All the same, I would 
 speak with Lady Molly — where is she ? " 
 
 " Locked in my bedroom ! " said Hal humbly. 
 
 " Very well, give me the key and wait till I return." 
 
 The General was gone the better part of an hour. He 
 came in looking austere as though he had been visiting 
 a battle-field. But there was a suspicion of humour in 
 the droop of the mouth and in the tone in which he said, 
 " Well, young man, it is clear to me that the sooner you 
 are married and settled the better it will be for the service 
 and for the Cambridge regiment. But who put all that 
 nonsense in her head about slaves and silver collars ? " 
 
 " I think she is not quite recovered from her adven- 
 tures and rough usage," said Hal. 
 
 " Very likely — very likely," said Cromwell. " In any 
 case it does not matter. I have bidden her go to sleep 
 and be a good girl. I have sent her up some supper, and 
 seen that she ate it. Then I locked the door and brought
 
 318 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 away the key. As for the father, I charge myself with 
 him. Before I have finished with him he shall be glad 
 and happy to find such a husband for his daughter as one 
 of my colonels. Now let us go back to dinner. You come 
 home with me to-night."
 
 XXXVI 
 
 HIGH STRATEGY 
 
 GENERAL CROMWELL'S quarters were of the 
 sort that might be called strictly military and 
 rudimentary. He had caused a wooden partition 
 to be put up, cutting off a triangle. Then he had knocked 
 a hole in the outside wall, inserted a circular window, and 
 so within sound of the snoring of his troopers made his 
 home on the second floor of the new barracks behind 
 Whitehall. 
 
 Shoulder to shoulder the General and Hal passed 
 through the black and silent streets, while the coaches 
 were still whirling off the guests of Mr. Commissioner 
 Ludlow to their mansions in Norfolk Street or the city. 
 
 They walked long silent under the stars, sometimes 
 striding carelessly through a maze of streets, sometimes 
 skirting the river bank. Night-hawking figures raking a 
 livelihood out of midnight London now and then ap- 
 proached them thus promenading at their ease, but at 
 sight of the insignia of military rank, and of those two 
 strong-armed men passing so serenely along, they slunk 
 back into the obscurity natural to their deeds. 
 
 Something eminently secure and even peaceful radiated 
 from the companionship of the great man of war. Hal 
 walked grateful and almost happy in the pregnant com- 
 panionship of this man's silence. The mere ring of his 
 spurred heels on the paving stones seemed somehow to 
 solve the problems of existence, or to make them so little 
 that they solved themselves. 
 
 This man thought for the welfare of three kingdoms, 
 
 819
 
 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 yet he could find time to take trouble about the tangled 
 love affairs of a somewhat careless young officer. Now 
 and then a patrol would jingle up, flash a lantern upon 
 the two, salute, and pass on, marvelling greatly what 
 General Cromwell and his aide were doing within Temple 
 Bar at that hour. 
 
 They looked down upon the great flood which passes 
 under London Bridge, and watched the reflected stars 
 tremble and dissolve as the flaws of night wind stirred 
 the surface into small trembling wavelets. 
 
 "Can any man cleanse that?" Cromwell's voice came 
 to Hal's ear like that of a man meditating in a solitary 
 place. " Once it came from a crystal spring, up on a 
 hillside, cupful by cupful. The lambs drank and were 
 satisfied. So narrow was it that in play they leaped 
 across it. Now who can span it, who touch it without 
 being soiled? Such is our life. God gave it. He alone 
 can cleanse it. Out yonder (he flapped a riding gauntlet 
 in the direction of the sea) is cleansing. A mile or two of 
 salt water and all this flood of impurity and shame shall 
 be cleansed — its filth and our sins sunk in the deep sea 
 of His forgetfulness ! " 
 
 He laid his hand heavily upon the young man's 
 shoulder. " But I speak things you are too young to 
 understand. Listen ! " 
 
 The great bell of Paul's rang out the midnight, twelve 
 solemn strokes, and on the back of that came to their 
 ears the multitudinous clangour of the bells of London 
 announcing the new day. 
 
 " Your marriage morn — I wish you just so much happi- 
 ness as I have known myself, though I doubt if you will 
 get it. Young women who run off to be slaves to agree- 
 able young gentlemen will need some leading — more than 
 raising and commanding Hog Lane." 
 
 " And that, God knows, was no sinecure ! " said 
 Colonel Hal. 
 
 *' This time you will have no Zered," said the General.
 
 HIGH STRATEGY 321 
 
 " I am not sure — Zered is a man of counsel," said Hal, 
 encouraged by the tone of Cromwell's voice in the dark- 
 ness. And he told of Zered's rescue of Lady Molly from 
 the mob, of his careful surgery, and of how, upon his 
 coming, he had left her to the care of his superior 
 officer. 
 
 And Oliver, seldom moved to mirth, found nothing to 
 laugh at. 
 
 They were walking back now, and pausing before a 
 tall house, the General pointed to the solitary light which 
 lit a window high up under the eaves of the building. 
 
 " Yonder dwells a man sometime married — but un- 
 happy. Oh, do not start, I draw no moral. He is un- 
 happy because he hath chosen ill. The thing is simple as 
 cause and efifect. He is a wise man, John Milton by 
 name — you have read his tractates, much mistaken on 
 many things, but I shall make somewhat of him. We 
 shall yet do great things for England, he and I. 
 
 " But his wife loves not books. Her folk are of the 
 King's party. She is young. She is innocent. She loves 
 gaiety and life — not a husband who sits all day with his 
 nose in a book. To-morrow we shall find something for 
 her to do." 
 
 He waited till the patrol came round and then having 
 commended their diligence he bade the sergeant in com- 
 mand to light him upstairs to the chamber in which 
 burned the student's lamp. 
 
 In a quarter of an hour he was back again, and dis- 
 missing the guard, they two made their way back towards 
 the Westminster barracks. 
 
 " Seldom indeed does God give any man the mate his 
 honour demands," so he meditated, "■ because for the 
 most part man is a lazy animal and needs the spur of 
 contradiction, the whip of necessity." 
 
 The General paused a moment to let a crowd of noisy 
 young men go by on their way to their chambers in the 
 Temple. Their chants died within them at sight of the
 
 322 HAL O' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 glittering helmets with their white plumes and the tall 
 man who stood so silently regarding them. 
 
 " I speak not for myself," continued Cromwell. 
 " Providence and mine own choice have fitted me like a 
 glove. 
 
 " Never have I gone down the stairs at Ely without my 
 wife Elizabeth (the Lord reward her!) saying after me, 
 ' Take care of the last step. It is treacherous. Be sure 
 not to take cold ! Remember, your scarf is in your right 
 pocket. Your handkerchief in the left ! ' 
 
 " And then with a sigh the dear soul goes back to her 
 prayers and her embroidery. She has done her part. 
 Now it belongs to God to do the rest. You do wrong to 
 laugh, Master Hal " 
 
 " Sir, I laughed not — there arose something — some- 
 thing in my throat, thinking of my mother." 
 
 " A good lad — good lad ! Yes, you have hit it — Dame 
 Elizabeth is as a mother to me. But make no mistake. 
 I do not make light of her warnings. You have seen me 
 take several wounds, but never a cold. Even at Gains- 
 borough Fight and on Marston Moor I never forgot that 
 my neck-scarf was in my right pocket and my handker- 
 chief in my left ! " 
 
 They slept side by side in the rude pine-boarded angle 
 of the cavalry barracks, Hal on the bed and the General 
 throwing himself down on a mattress in the corner under 
 the window. So the General wished it to be, and so it 
 was. For the difference between Oliver's wishes and his 
 commands was so slight as to be imperceptible. 
 
 When Hal woke up he found pinned to the table a 
 hasty note which read, " Go to Doctor's Commons. Buy 
 a marriage license. Here is the money ! " 
 
 Cromwell had risen early and for purposes of his own 
 had gone in search of my Lord Woodham Walter. He 
 knew that, in company with a good many other free 
 drinkers and large talkers, my Lord made a practice of
 
 HIGH STRATEGY 323 
 
 sleeping where he dined. His London house was not 
 open, since in the gay and careless life he led in London 
 he could not be troubled with an unwedded daughter to 
 chaperon and provide occupation for. 
 
 At Ludlow House Abiathar Smith, as precise in 
 well-brushed suit of black with gold chain and silk 
 hose, as if he had never taken them off, received the 
 General. 
 
 " My Lord Woodham Walter ? — Aye, General, aye. 
 He will be here — where else, and a bonny ruffle o' kettle- 
 drums he will be carrying on his shoothers. I hae juist 
 ta'en him up a lang tumbler o' <hae uncanny German 
 salts and stood over him till he took them. That's yae 
 guid turn Rupert did us major-domos. Can ye see him? 
 Aye, that ye can, and a bonny sicht ye'll hae o' him. 
 This way, General, 'tis well there are some sober men left 
 on the earth ! Oh, usquebee is a good thing in its place, 
 and also a drop brandy by whiles. But this German 
 salts is the real blessin' o' Providence. Instead o' the 
 hoose cluttered up till mid-afternoon wi' snorin' folk, ye 
 have your chambers all ordered by ten o' the clock. — But 
 here's the door. Shall I gang first, for he's in nae sort o' 
 a friendly humour. You might chance to get a tankard 
 at your head ! " 
 
 "I must* risk it," said Cromwell grimly. "I am in no 
 great danger. What I have to say to my Lord would 
 serve to sober most men." 
 
 He opened the door and stepped within. A man with 
 a neck thick and ruddy with fat sat on the edge of a 
 bed impatiently muttering to himself and occasionally 
 stamping his foot. 
 
 " What the devil do you want ? " he threw the words 
 over his shoulder in the direction of the open door with- 
 out looking round, 
 
 " I am not * what the devil ' anybody," said a grave 
 voice which caused my Lord instantly to wheel about 
 and in the same movement to rise to his feet.
 
 SM HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 " Your pardon, General," he said, looking flustered, 
 " I thought it was that cursed Scotch serving man who 
 afflicts me with his remedies." 
 
 " I must ask you to come with me, my Lord," Crom- 
 well cut in with much gravity of demeanour. " I have a 
 perquisition to make in the chamber of the son of our 
 host of last night, Colonel Henry Ludlow of the Cam- 
 bridge Horse." 
 
 A gleam of mahcious pleasure flashed into the eyes of 
 my Lord. " Is it a matter of treason? " he said, knowing 
 what was the penalty in such cases and how it was applied 
 by General Cromwell without fear or favour. 
 
 " I act upon information received," said the General. 
 " But we waste time. Smith, show us to Colonel Lud- 
 low's room." 
 
 Abiathar, who was not in the General's confidence, 
 made a gallant but quite unsuccessful effort to stand in 
 the breach. 
 
 " Maister Hairry — the Colonel that is, will be asleep — 
 I mean he is oot on meelitary business and has taken the 
 key with him." 
 
 " I think not," said Cromwell, taking the article from 
 his pocket and dangling it from his forefinger. 
 " Now, Smith, no more words. You know me. Lead 
 on!" 
 
 Abiathar threw up his hands with a jerk which meant 
 to convey that he rid himself of all responsibility. He 
 stood back, indicating the door with a stately bow and 
 a wave of the hand in the style which he called his '* best 
 King Jamie " — being a reminiscent of the Herald's bow 
 before majesty when James Sixth and First visited the 
 Towers on one of his royal progresses. But Cromwell 
 was not impressed. 
 
 " Now get away ! " he ordered. 
 
 Abiathar stared as if unable to believe his ears. His 
 master would never have spoken to him so. 
 
 " Get away," repeated the General. " Stand in the
 
 HIGH STRATEGY 326 
 
 hall and receive the lady who will arrive immediately. 
 Keep her below till I send for her." 
 
 Abiathar tramped away with his shoulders very square 
 and his head erect. " I believe he thought — he was of 
 the opeenion that I, Abiathar Smith frae the Tibbers in 
 Disdeer parochin, would demean mysel' by listening ! " 
 
 He sighed softly. 
 
 " Ah, weel, at ony rate I canna ! That's plain." 
 
 Cromwell presented the key to my Lord. He took it 
 as a courtesy due to his rank, bowed a slight acknowledg- 
 ment, turned it in the lock, pushed the door and entered, 
 closely followed by Cromwell. 
 
 A figure in white sat up in bed, and with a hasty ges- 
 ture tossed a light foam of ringlets out of eyes still heavy 
 with sleep. A man's shirt with torn collar showed a 
 rosy flush of shame mounting to two pale cheeks. 
 
 " Father," cried Lady Molly, " oh, father, I love him 
 so ! 
 
 " It looks like it," said her father grimly. " You shall 
 come with me this instant, and if I cannot shut you up 
 for the rest of your natural life in this country, by Gad 
 I'll make a papist of you and send you to a nunnery in 
 France ! Get up at once and come with me ! " 
 
 " But I can't, father." 
 
 " And pray, why not ? " 
 
 " Because I have no clothes — only this ! " said the 
 Lady Molly, " and I will not go to a nunnery. I will 
 appeal to Parliament. Colonel Cromwell will speak for 
 me and for Hal. He likes Hal and says that he would 
 gladly have given him one of his daughters. So why not 
 you, father ? " 
 
 " You shall never marry a money-lender's son with my 
 consent — and my promise to my friend the Earl repeated 
 only last night." 
 
 Here Cromwell thought it well to intervene. 
 
 " My Lord," he said with that composed weightiness
 
 326 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 of demeanour with which he summed up a campaign 
 before the House. "If the case were my own, I should 
 say that marriage was the only course left open — and the 
 sooner the better. I speak not of the private scandal, but 
 rather of what is due to the Cause. I put it to myself 
 thus. My daughter (we shall say) has run away from 
 home dressed as a sailor to join a young man whom I 
 have forbidden her to marry. Most wrong and dis- 
 obedient, I own. But she has been severely mishandled 
 and even wounded. She has been plucked from among 
 the feet of horses. She has been recognised by officers 
 of Colonel Ludlow's cavalry, by servants of this house. 
 I find her — thus — in the morning — and (to speak plainly, 
 my Lord) in these circumstances I should count myself 
 exceedingly lucky to have such a young man to deal with 
 as Colonel Henry Ludlow, wise and brave in war — if not 
 too prudent in love — his father's only son and the heir 
 to his estates." 
 
 "Oh," cried Lady Molly, "I don't want all that— I 
 want Hal to have nothing except me, and I be his slave — 
 with a silver collar." 
 
 Lady Molly had almost leaped from the bed in her 
 eagerness and now sat with the white sheet about her 
 mufifled to the chin, perfectly unashamed, her large eyes 
 dark and wet, her mouth determined, and her golden 
 hair falling about her face and neck in twists and 
 tendrils. 
 
 Cromwell indicated the Lady Molly with a little jerk 
 of the chin, which meant, " It is no use, my friend, you 
 cannot coerce a girl Hke that. I could not and I am sure 
 you can't." 
 
 " I consent ! " quoth my Lord, ungraciously enough, 
 and turned upon his heel. 
 
 " Stay," said Cromwell, " there are a few arrange- 
 ments. Abiathar, let the lady come up and bring her 
 packets. Carry them yourself." 
 
 A blooming little lady, pouting and wilful, but with
 
 HIGH STRATEGY 
 
 eyes brimming over with mischief, came pattering along 
 the passage, holding up her skirt so that she might arrive 
 the quicker. 
 
 " Oh, where is she — I could love her — to run thus to 
 find a husband. While I — I should rather run from mine, 
 only that he would never miss me." 
 
 " Mistress John Milton," announced Abiathar in his 
 pompous way, but with less success than usual, for he 
 was staggering along (as he said himself) " like Issachar 
 the strong ass, between two burdens." 
 
 The gentlemen looked at each other as the door closed 
 upon the wet-eyed figure in the heaped coverlet and a 
 little lady who danced all about the room with excitement. 
 
 " See what I have brought ! " she was beginning when 
 the door closed and shut in their conference. 
 
 Then Lord Woodham Walter burst into a boisterous 
 laugh, and slapped his thigh. 
 
 " If the hen pecks her husband as the chick hath 
 pecked me, I do not envy bold Master Hal of the Iron- 
 sides ! " 
 
 " It might be as well," said Cromwell, " to intimate to 
 Mr. Chief Commissioner that his house is to be the scene 
 of a marriage. He might object." 
 
 " Oh, not at all — not at all," snapped my Lord. " It is 
 an honour for him, and one I never meant to afford him. 
 But that minx Moll hath forced my card. I believe she 
 did it on purpose." 
 
 " Not she, but I," said Cromwell. 
 
 " You ! " cried my Lord fiercely. 
 
 " I," repeated the General, staring him down. 
 
 " And why, pray ? " 
 
 " My Lord, to teach you a little humility ! " 
 
 " Well, you have taught that lesson to greater folk 
 than I. A poor country lord need not object. But here 
 comes the minister and his clerk. Hal, you rascal, what a 
 trick you have played me ! But you shall smart for this. 
 And your father — what — he knows all about it? Then
 
 328 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 with all you against me and my own daughter the worst 
 sinner of all, what wonder I am beaten ! " 
 
 An improvised bride came into the hall in sweeping 
 white, the wild ripple of her ringlets for once decently 
 snooded, 
 
 " I thought they were about the same size," meditated 
 Cromwell, who could think of everything. " How I wish 
 my Elizabeth were here ! " 
 
 " And this bond of holy matrimony I lay upon thee for 
 a badge of servitude," said the minister, and after the 
 giving of the ring, Hal snapped upon his mistress's neck 
 her heart's desire, the silver collar of Neiia la Fain. It 
 had come to him through Zered that morning, but with 
 the inscription erased. 
 
 And just then, more joyous than after Marston Moor 
 or Newbury, the bugles of the Ironsides rang out, and as 
 these two showed themselves on the balcony the mighty 
 shout of Hog Lane led the regiment, as the Second Cam- 
 bridgeshire Horse saluted their Colonel and their 
 Colonel's wife. 
 
 The tale as a tale ends here, but one most significant 
 event must not be forgotten. Nor will it ever be by those 
 who have grown up with the new thing which was to rule 
 England and watched it from the day when it was merely 
 the newly hatched Slepe Troop to the day when, as the 
 full-fledged New Model Army, it broke the King and all 
 his gentlemen upon Naseby Field. 
 
 It was Parliament Day upon Blackheath and the army, 
 which had crushed Rupert at Marston Moor, circled 
 Oxford and laid waste the King's array at Naseby Broad 
 Heath, was drawn out for review. All the afternoon the 
 cavalry had wheeled and charged, the infantry rattled 
 shotless cartridges, the artillery harmlessly roared and 
 thundered for the good pleasure of citizens and parlia- 
 mentarians.
 
 HIGH STRATEGY 329 
 
 Upon a little knoll opposite the pavilion prepared for 
 the grandees at the Houses — War Department, Com- 
 mittee of Both Kingdoms, Commonwealth advisers and 
 such-like — General Cromwell held himself apart. Behind 
 him were the pick of his officers — Ireton, Fleetwood, Hal 
 himself. A little disdainfully they stood. They had done 
 the \*'ork and this raree show was like making a good dog 
 jump over a stick. The review had been left to their 
 subordinates, and men like Sam Squire and Zered Tuby 
 were in their element. It may be that they were re- 
 sponsible for what followed. 
 
 At any rate, certain it is that when the time came to 
 salute the State tribune, where were the Lords and 
 Commons of the Long Parliament, the cannon thundered 
 out on the flanks, and when the high dignitaries rose to 
 acknowledge the compliment, seven thousand swords 
 flashed in the air, twenty-one thousand muskets came to 
 the salute. 
 
 But not to do honour to the men of committees and 
 associations. As one man the troops had wheeled about 
 and were saluting a tall man in rusty red, dinted helm 
 and mended uniform. He sat his horse alone and motion- 
 less on a little knoll among the fern and gorse bushes of 
 Blackheath. 
 
 And as from horizon to horizon the steel glittered to 
 the salute, all comprehended with a sudden shock that 
 the real part of the day's programme had been reached, 
 when with impressive unanimity sword and musket, 
 lance and pike, were depressed before the tall silent man 
 on the knoll, and the old Ironsides' battle-chant surged 
 stormily from wing to wing of that imposing array : — 
 
 " In midst of all thine enemies 
 Be THOU the governor!" 
 
 And lest there should be any mistake Hog Lane and the 
 Slepe Troop, directly in front, pointed with their swords
 
 330 HAL 0' THE IRONSIDES 
 
 at the stately figure upon the knoll, while from the thirty- 
 thousand throats of the New Model Army, their backs 
 turned to Lords and Commons alike, pealed the stern 
 summons of the men who now ruled England : — 
 
 "Be THOU the governor." 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
 
 FICTION WORTH READING 
 
 .S". R. CROCKETT Author of ' The SHckit MinisUt " 
 ■ " The Raiders" etc. 
 
 Silver Sand 
 
 A Romance of Old Galloway. Cloth, net $1.25. 
 
 "In this romance published only a few days after his 
 death, we find Mr. Crockett in his familiar Wigtownshire, 
 writing at his best, and giving us an even finer display of his 
 powers than when he first captured his admirers. 'Silver 
 Sand' is certainly one of the best things he ever did. Some 
 of the characters here portrayed are among the best of his 
 many creations, with an even added depth and tenderness." — 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 CAROLINE ABBOT STANLEY 
 
 Dr. Llewellyn and His Friends 
 
 Illustrated, i2mo, cloth, net $1.25. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley's new book is a human chronicle of absorbing 
 interest. Humor and pathos of a rare order alternate in its 
 pages, together with some astonishingly good delineation of 
 negro life and character. _ The Kansas City Star says: "If 
 there is to be a Missouri school of literature to rival the 
 famed Indiana institution, Mrs. Stanley has fairly earned the 
 right to a charter membership." 
 
 GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL LUTZ 
 
 The Man of the Desert 
 
 Illustrated, i2mo, cloth, net $1.25. 
 
 Ite author of "The Best Man," "Marcia Schuyler," etc., 
 enjoys no mean reputation as a weaver of sweet, wholesome 
 romances, a reputation which "The Man of the Desert" 
 fully maintains. Her latest book tells the love story of a 
 daughter of luxury and a plain man facing his duty and 
 doing his work on the home mission field of the West. Every 
 reader of this charming story will be made to rejoice in the 
 happy triumph over difficulties which gives to these young 
 people the crowning joy of life, the union of kindred souls. 
 
 THURLOW FRASER 
 
 The Call of The Ea^ 
 
 A Romance of Far Formosa. Illustrated, lanto, 
 cloth, net $1.25. 
 
 Here is a jewel in romance — set amid the blossom-laden 
 islands of the Eastern seas. To its making go the record 
 of one white man's heroism and native worth, of anothGr's 
 baseness and treachery; some thrilling incidents of the French 
 invasion of Formosa; a satisfying picture of the great 
 pioneer missionary Mackay, and a love-story as old as Eden, 
 yet as fresh as the dews of the morning.
 
 FICTION WORTH READING 
 
 NORMAN DUNCAN 
 
 The Bird-Store Man 
 
 An Old-Fashioned Story. Illustrated, l2mo, 
 boards, net 75c. 
 
 By the sheer wizardy of his art, the author illumines a gray, 
 shabby neighborhood with genial light, and makes of a dingy 
 bird store a temple of high romance. What happens to 
 Timothy I'witter, the cheery old bird dealer; to a wonderful 
 dog Alexander; to the little girl who owns him and her 
 veteran grandfather, is related with a whimsical tenderness 
 few writers since Dickens have been able to employ. Ther« 
 is many a long chuckle awaiting the readers of I'HE BIRD 
 STORE MAN, and not a few tugs at the heart. 
 
 CLARA E. LAUGHLIN , Author of 
 
 -^— — — — — — — — — Everybody's Lonesome 
 
 Everybody's Birthright 
 
 A Vision of Jeanne dArc. Illustrated, i2mo, 
 cloth, net 75c. 
 
 "A tender, heart-reaching and heart-finding story. The 
 aspirations of the average young girl are too little under- 
 stood. Miss Laughlin not only understands them, but she 
 provides something for them to feed on. In all, she has 
 contrived to put a lot of thoughts on interesting problems 
 into a story that is full of the human touches that gives life 
 to a book. It should add another to that series of classics 
 for girls which have made Miss Laughlin the friend of girls 
 and parents as well." — Norma Bright Carson. 
 
 WINIFRED ARNOLD Author of ''Mis' Bassett's 
 
 — ^— — — ~— — — — ~ Matrwiony Bureau" 
 
 Little Merry Christmas 
 
 Illustrated, i2mo, boards, net 60c. 
 
 From the moment she alights, one wintry night, at the 
 snow-piled station of Oatka Center, little Mary Christie be- 
 gins to carry sunshine and happiness into the frosty homes, 
 and still frostier hearts of its inhabitants. How Lem Perkins, 
 her crusty old uncle, together with the entire village, is led 
 into the delectable kingdom of Peace and Goodwill by the 
 guiding hand of a child, is here told in as sweet and jolly 
 a little story as anybody has either written or read in many 
 a long year. 
 
 NORMAN HINSD ALE PITMAN .. ^, Aujhorof 
 
 — — — ^^-^^— — ^^■^— ^— — — The Lady Lied, eit. 
 
 A Chinese Christmas Tree 
 
 Illustrated by Liu Hsing-p'u. Boards, net 50c. 
 
 Here is a Christmas story that is "different"— scenes laid 
 in China, real Chinese children romping through its chapters, 
 and illustrated by quaint pictures drawn bya real Chinese 
 artist. Those who gratefully remember this author's fine 
 story "The Lady Elect," will not be surprised to find a vein 
 of mellow wisdom, tampered with warm, glowing sunshine.
 
 FICTION WORTH READING 
 
 CYRUS TOIFNSEND BRADY 
 
 The Little Angel of Canyon Creek 
 
 Illustrated, i2mo, cloth, net $1.25. 
 
 A cracking good story of the bad old days of the Western 
 Colorado mining camps — days when a man's chances of 
 returning to his cabin o'nights depended very largely on the 
 despatch with which he could bring his gun to the "draw." 
 Into one of these lawless camps comes little Olaf, a homeless 
 wanderer from the East. His advent, followed by that of 
 the Morrisons, marks a new era for Canyon Creek which 
 ends in the "cleaning up" of the entire town. Dr. Brady 
 gives us a captivating tale, brim-full of the vim and color 
 incident to days and places where life was cheap, and virtue 
 both rare and dear. 
 
 MARIETTA HOLLEY "Samantha Allen'' 
 
 Josiah Allen on the Woman Question 
 
 Ilustrated, i6mo, cloth, net $r.oo. 
 
 Anew volume from the pen of Miss Holley, marked by such 
 quaint thoughtfulness and timely reflection as ran through 
 "Samantha." All who read it will be bound to feel better, as 
 indeed they should, for they will have done some hearty laughing, 
 and have been 'up against' some bits of striking philosophy deliv- 
 ered with point, vigor, and chuckling humor. All Josiah Allen's 
 opinions are wittily, pithily expressed, causing the whole book to 
 fairly bubble with homely, fun-provoking wisdom. 
 
 /. /. BELL Author of " Wee Macgreesor," 
 
 —^—— "Oh/ Christitia!" etc. 
 
 The Misadventures of Joseph 
 
 i2mo, cloth, net $1.00. 
 
 A characteristic story in which the author displays unusual 
 ability to portray with quiet, humorous touch, the idiosyn- 
 crasies of Scottish life and character. Through a series of 
 highly diverting chapters a homely yet worthy house-painter 
 extricates himself from many a seeming dilemma, by the ex- 
 ercise of a kindly charity and the best attributes of a man. 
 
 THEOD ORA PE CK .. , Author o/ 
 
 ——^————— The Sword of Dundee" 
 
 White Dawn 
 
 A Legend of Ticonderoga. Illustrated, net $1.25. 
 
 A real romance, redolent of love and war. The plot, 
 for the most part, is laid in the beautiful Champlain valley, 
 in the days when the British were storming Ticonderoga, 
 and the armies of Wolfe and Montcalm striving for su- 
 premacy in the northern part of the continent. Miss Peck 
 simply packs her book with action, and depicts scene after 
 scene which literally resound with the din of battle and the 
 clash of arms.
 
 FICTION— OUT-DOOR LIFE— JUVENILE 
 
 LATHAN A. CRANDALL 
 
 Days in the Open 
 
 A Fisherman's Answer to the Red God's Call. 
 Decorations by Louis Rhead. Illustrated, net $1.50. 
 
 Here is a book which has about it something of old Izaak 
 \V!alton, of Richard Jefferies, of Henry van Dyke. But there 
 is a very much more of the author himself; for he is of 
 that diverting and gallant company who love to chant the 
 praises of moor and mead, of silver stream, of the open 
 road. Mr. Crandall is an enthusiastic angler and his book is 
 the record of a man out on his peaceful adventures, whip- 
 ping winsome waters and treading fresh, sweet earth. There 
 IS a positive fascination about what he writes, too, which if it 
 does not, like a Pied Piper, lure a man out of the city gate, 
 will, at least, give him to long to be awa* in the core of 
 Nature's heart. 
 
 REV. ALBERT H. PLUMB 
 
 When Mayflowers Blossom 
 
 A Romance of Plymouth's First Years. 8vo, net $1.50. 
 
 Rev. William Allen Knight, Litt.D., author of "The Song 
 of Our Syrian Guest," says: " 'When Mayflowers Blossom' 
 is a love story told in a big, brainy way. It is Homeric in its 
 leisureliness, its grave mind-play on a historic tradition, its 
 occasional deft pictures in words. For example, read the 
 chapter, 'Tempest on the Deep,' and note that 'next morn- 
 ing the sun rose murky red liice a wounded warrior in flow- 
 ing blood lifting himself from a battle field.' Minds fond of 
 old-time meatiness in writing will find thi& book worthy of 
 their attention." 
 
 DILLON WALLACE Author of" The Lure of the Labrador 
 ■ Wild" and "Ungava Bob'" 
 
 The Gaunt Gray Wolf 
 
 Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, net $1.25. 
 
 A rattling new storjr by the man who survived the perils 
 of the great journey into the heart of Labrador which re- 
 sulted in the death of Leonidas Hubbard, Jr. "Ungava 
 Bob" here makes a welcome reappearance, and through a 
 series of thrilling adventures both he and his companion. 
 Shad Trowbridge, face danger^ and hardship with the st-iflE 
 upper lip of "gentlemen unafraid." 
 
 REV. S. J. REID 
 
 Young People's Pilgrim's Progress 
 
 With Exposition. Illustrated, net $1.00. 
 
 "The young people of former generations read Bunyan's 
 classic with delight. Dr. Reid has been a profound student 
 of the Pilgrim's Progress, and, without laying vandal hands 
 on it, has succeeded in producing a 'new version' of the 
 classic that will be understood and appreciated by everyone. 
 The older people will enjoy it and profit by it as muoh 
 as the younger people." — Watchman-Examiner.
 
 s 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW.
 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 001 426 861 9
 
 lil!!IIUl!!lil!liillllil'liili