whenever flight orattack grew more rapid, exerted itself naturally to keep as near ascould be in the ranks.
The scene was terrible for one so young, as he sat there grimly, oftenin the middle of a confused crowd, his sword drawn ready more fordefence than offence, for now that the excitement of the flight wasover, and he had rejoined his regiment, there was little of the blinddesire to strike and slay in Fred Forrester's breast. He contentedhimself with turning aside thrusts and meeting blows with a cleverguard, as some Cavalier tried to reach him, while twice over he foundanother sword interposed on his behalf.
The fight must have lasted for half an hour, when about a dozen of theCavaliers raised a shout, and made a dash at where General Hedley wasslowly retreating, their object being evidently to take him prisonerbefore, from sheer exhaustion, the pursuit was given up.
But the idea was not so easy to carry out, though for the moment thegeneral was alone. The horse he rode was strong and fairly fresh, thoseof his would-be captors pretty well foundered, and, in addition, therewas help at hand.
Fred had just had a narrow escape, for a stout Cavalier had forced hisown horse alongside, contriving, in spite of the lad's efforts, to getupon his left or weaker side, and pressing him sorely. Fred had needfor all the skill with the sword he had picked up since he had been withthe army, and he had dire need for more power in his muscles, for aftera minute's foining and thrusting, he found his guard beaten down throughhis adversary's superior strength, a hand was outstretched, catching himby the collar of his jerkin, and in spite of his efforts he was draggedsidewise toward the pommel of his enemy's horse.
"I'll have one prisoner, at all events," growled the man, fiercely; andhe gave Fred's horse a savage kick in the ribs, with the intention ofmaking him start away.
Had the horse followed the enemy's wishes, his rider would have beenunseated, but, instead of starting away, the well-drilled beast pressedcloser alongside the horse by his side, and Fred still clung to thesaddle.
"Ah, you wretched young Puritan spawn! Would you sting?" growled theman, as Fred made a desperate effort to use his sword. "Then takethat."
The Cavalier rose in his stirrups, and was in the act of striking withall his might, when a fresh sword parted the air like a flash, swung asit was by a muscular arm, and the middle of the blade caught theCavalier trooper right upon the plated cheek-strap of the morion hewore, dividing it so that the steel cap flew off, and the man droppedback over the cantle of his saddle, his frightened horse making a boundforward and carrying his master a dozen yards before he fell heavily onthe heath.
"Who says I can't use a sword as well as a scythe?" cried a familiarvoice.
"Oh, Samson, you've saved my life," cried Fred.
"Serve you right, too, my lad--I mean, serve him right, too. Trying tochop down a boy like you."
"I am sorry. Look, look, look!" cried Fred, excitedly.
"Eh? Look? What at?"
"Over yonder, where all those Cavaliers are crowding together to makeanother charge."
"Yes, I see 'em. What a state their horses are in!"
"But don't you see Scarlett Markham? And who's that with them? I seenow. Your brother."
"What, Nat? Where, where? Let me get at him. There's going to be aprisoner took now, Master Fred, and he'll have to look sharp to getaway."
Samson set spurs to his horse, but Fred checked him by seizing thebridle.
"No, no," he said; "keep by me, and let's close up to the general. Thisis no time for personal feelings, Samson. We must think only of ourparty."
"Ah, well, I won't hurt him, Master Fred; but how would you like yourbrother to be hunting you about the country, as Nat has been hunting us?Wouldn't you like to have a turn at him?"
"I have no brother, Samson," replied Fred, as he glanced in thedirection where, about a hundred yards away, Scarlett was in the midstof a group of the Cavaliers, who were steadily driving the grimCromwellian troopers before them, and effectually keeping them fromcombining so as to retaliate with effect.
Then Scarlett was hidden from his sight, and yielding slowly step bystep, the Parliamentarians kept up a defiant retreat.
It might be supposed that at such a time the slaughter would beterrible; but, after the first onset, when men went down headlong, thenumber of killed and wounded were few. For there were no witheringvolleys of musketry, no field-pieces playing upon the disorganisedcavalry from a distance; it was a sheer combat of mounted men armed withthe sword, against whose edge and point defensive armour was worn; andin consequence many of the wounds were insignificant, more injuriesbeing received by men being dismounted than by the blades.
The officers of the retreating party kept up their efforts to rallytheir little force, but always in vain, for the gathering together of acluster of men resulted in the Cavaliers making that the point for whichthey made, and they carried all before them.
"They are more than two to one, literally," growled the general,fiercely, as he felt that there was nothing to be done but to summon hismen to follow, and, taking advantage of the fresher state of theirhorses, put on all the speed they could, and make for a valley rightahead, where they might elude their pursuers, and accepting the presentdefeat endeavour to make up for it another time.
Giving the order then, the trumpet rang out, and the men sullenlyobeyed, setting spurs to their horses, and for the most part extricatingthemselves from their pursuers, whose horses began to stagger and evenstop as their masters urged them to the ascent of a slope, up which theParliamentarians were retreating.
This being the case, their own leader ordered his trumpeter to sound ahalt, and the successful party set up a tremendous cheer as they wavedtheir hats and flashed their swords in the sunshine.
"Yes," muttered General Hedley, as he looked back at his triumphantenemies exulting over his defeat, but too helpless to pursue, "make muchof it; a reverse may come sooner than you expect."
"I don't like being beaten like this, Master Fred," grumbled Samson,leaning over to smooth the reeking coat of the horse his young masterrode; "and it's all your fault."
"My fault? How?"
"Holding me back as you did, and letting that brother of mine get awaysneering and sniggering at me, with his nose cocked up in the air, andswelling with pride till he's like the frog in the fable."
"How do you know he was sneering at you?" said Fred, who felt stiff,sore, and as if he would give anything to dismount and lie down amongthe soft elastic heather.
"How do I know, sir? Why, because it's his nature to. You don'tunderstand him as I do. I can't see him, because I can't look throughthat hill, but I know as well as can be that he's riding on his horseclose to Master Scarlett, and going off."
"Going off?"
"Yes, sir, in little puffs of laughing. It's his aggravating way. Andhe's keeping on saying, `Poor old Samson!' till it makes my blood bile."
"What nonsense! He is more likely to be riding away jaded, and sore,and disheartened."
"Not he, sir, because he aren't got no heart, and never had none--leastways, not a proper sort of heart. I can feel it, and I alwayscould. He's a-sneering at us all, and thinking how he has beaten us,when, if you had let me have my head, I could have gone at him sword inhand--"
"And cut his head off?"
"Cut his head off, sir? Why, it aren't worth cutting off. I mean tokeep my sword, which is a real good bit o' stuff, and as sharp as ascythe, for better heads than his. I wouldn't stoop to do it. No,Master Fred, I tell you what I'd have done: I'd have ridden up to himright afore 'em all, and I should have said, `Nat, my lad, your time'scome;' and I should have laid hold of him by the scruff of the neck, andbeat him with the flat of the blade till he went down on his knees andsaid he wouldn't do so any more."
"Do what any more, Samson?"
"Everything as he have been doing."
"And suppose he wouldn't have let you beat him before all the others?"
"Wouldn't have let me, Master Fred? He'd have been obliged to.
Ishould have made him."
"You are too modest, Samson," said Fred, laughing.
"Oh no, I'm not, sir--not a bit. I wish sometimes I was a bit more so.But you should have let me go at him, sir. I'd have made him run, likea sheep with a dog at his heels."
"Ah, Samson," cried Fred, wearily, "it's sore work when brothers arefighting against each other."
"No worse, sir, than two such friends as you and Master Scarlett was.Why, you was more than brothers. Oh, I don't like this here at all."
"What?"
"Running away with our tails