lage of which they had now a better view than before. The young lady's eyes, however, were still fixed upon her brother's troop, as she sat with her horse turned towards the wood and with her maids behind, with Arrah Neil upon her left hand, and the small party of troopers a little in advance. They had remained thus for some four or five minutes in breathless expectation of what was to come next, when they perceived the troop brought to a sudden halt, and an apparent consultation take place at the head of the little column. At that moment Annie Walton heard one of the troopers just before her say aloud-"They have barricaded the bridge, that's clear enough."

"Good God," she exclaimed, "what will they do!"

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

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

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

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

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

One of the troopers was instantly
VOL. XXII-No. 129.

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

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

"I will go too," cried Annie Wal

ton.

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

"This way, lady, this way," cried Hurst, turning to the left-" we can speak to them over the dyke, and we shall be further from the fire.' They were now within a few hundred yards of Lord Walton's party, and he was seen at the head of the troop gesticulating vehemently to his sister to keep back.

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

"Good God, what is it!" exclaimed

X

Charles Walton, bearing her back behind the waggons. "Annie, Annie, ride away," he shouted to his sister"if you love me, ride away."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the meanwhile Annie Walton took her way back towards the hill, beckoning to the yeoman, Hurst, who had by this time freed himself from his horse; but he, with that sort of passive bravery which is so characteristic of the English peasant, continued deliberately to unbuckle the girths of his saddle, (about which it appeared afterwards all his stock was stowed away in various bags and contrivances,) and made not the slightest effort to

get out of musket shot till he had got the whole upon his back, after which he trudged away towards the hill, only injured by one ball which grazed his arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The ford though somewhat deep was smooth and easy, but still it exposed the troop of cavaliers to a terrible fire of musketry from the bridge; and Annie Walton, left alone with her women on the hill, saw with a sinking heart flash after flash run along the road, whilst the thick white smoke was wafted by the wind over her brother's party, rendering the figures indistinct, and concealing their movements in some degree from her eyes. A moment after, however, she saw two or three horsemen break out of the cloud and gallop on for several hundred yards into the meadow; then followed a greater number, and she

could hear shouts and calls, in the midst of which she thought she distinguished her brother's voice; and then she saw the troopers halt, and form again in line, while Barecolt with his little party bore steadily on at a quick pace somewhat to the right; and a much larger body of cavalry, which seemed to have taken a circuit from the village behind some hedgerows that skirted the edge of the plain, appeared advancing rapidly on the left of the musketeers, and occupying the whole space between the wood and the high road.

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

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

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

Before she had advanced many yards, a horse without a rider rushed across the road, and galloped over the meadows towards her-paused, turned round, and, with elevated head and expanded nostrils, gazed towards the place from which he came-then with

a wild neigh broke away again, and rushed across the plain. In another instant three or four men on foot, with muskets in their hands, were seen running at full speed, and Miss Walton checked her horse, fearing that they might come near her; but they made direct for one of the ditches we have mentioned, and jumping in, seemed to crouch down for concealment.

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

A larger party of foot, consisting of perhaps twenty or thirty men, was then seen hurrying along the road; but close upon them came a body of cavalry, and in a moment they were dispersed and flying over the plain Almost at the same time the heavy mass of horse and infantry which had so long remained mingled together near the bridge, seemed to explode like a shell, parties of foot and horsemen scattering here and there in every direction; and the terrible scene of a rout and pursuit now took place-the musketeers in general casting down their arms and flying, while the cavaliers followed them here and there over the plain, and put them to the sword on the least show of resistance. In the midst of all this disarray and confusion a group of some twenty or thirty horsemen were seen gathered round a small flag upon the highest part of the road near the bridge; and after a brief pause, during which they remained perfectly still and motionless, the loud and peculiar trumpet call-known in those days as the recall to the standard-came shrill but musical upon the air; and the next instant four or five horsemen separated themselves from the party, and rode up at an easy canter towards the wooded knoll.

Annie Walton gazed eagerly, and, recognising her brother's form after one moment of brief anxiety, rode on

to meet him with her heart at ease. Lord Walton pushed forward his horse before the rest, and wheeling it by her side, pressed her hand in his, murmuring, "My dearest Annie, my sweet sister, you have been sadly terrified, I fear, but yet you have showed yourself a soldier's child."

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

arm.

66

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that you had some good reason for cheating me."

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

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

once.

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

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

For a minute or two the conversation was as gay and cheerful as a great success just obtained, a great deliverance just achieved, could render it. Lord Beverley explained to his fair companion, that having learned that morning on entering the neighbouring village with a body of two hundred horse, which he had raised for the service of the king, that a regiment of parliamentary musketeers were lying concealed at the back of the wood, and supposing that their ambush was directed against himself, he had determined to remain in the place, and defend it, should need be, against them; but that when he found the passage of Lord Walton's troop was opposed, and his friend in danger, he had instantly called his men to the saddle, and advanced to support him. Lord Walton, too, related many of

those actions which in such scenes of strife are always crowded into the space of a few minutes; and much praise did he bestow upon the gallant determination of Major Randal and his troop, and also upon the steadiness and courage displayed by his own tenantry and adherents. Captain Barecolt himself had his full share of commendation.

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

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

"Ah, Miss Walton," cried the old officer, starting up and addressing her in his usual bluff tone, "I am glad to see you safe and well. I will never say that women are of no use any more; for by my faith, you and that other girl got us out of a pretty predicament. I was blind enough or stupid enough, and so were all the rest, not to mark the little path, for we passed it in charging up to the bridge, and if we had we should not have known that the stream was ford

able below. However, get you into the carriage again, and shut your eyes or draw the curtains, for I see you look white and sickish, and these sights are not fit for women. The men will have soon pulled down that barricade, and then you can go on, while we get up the wounded and follow. We must do ten miles more to-night."

"I should prefer to ride," replied Miss Walton; 66 you had better put the wounded people in the carriages.' "True, true-well bethought," answered the old soldier. "You are a good girl after all.”

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

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

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

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

"They are all gone,' answered Langan.

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