Crown and Sceptre Part 68

The race had lasted some minutes now, and the fugitive was in full hope that the alarm had been spread by the inner line of vedettes, when a bright thought flashed across his brain.

He glanced back, and could see about a dozen of the Cavaliers some forty yards behind, and a few hundred yards behind them a couple of regiments.

"They will follow my pursuers," he argued; and as he came to that conclusion, he drew his right rein, and bore off a little, making straight for a deep hollow where the peat lay thick, and it was impossible for a horse to cross.

If they followed him there, he could swerve off to the right again as he reached the treacherous ground, and edge safely round it, while the main body of his pursuers would in all probability plunge in.

"That would ensure their defeat," he said to himself, as in imagination he saw the gallant regiments floundering saddle deep in the black, half-liquid peat.

As he had hoped, so it seemed to be. His nearest pursuers turned off after him, so did the main body, and, almost indifferent now as to capture, so long as he could save those at the park, he turned to look back, when, just as the Cavaliers were thundering on to destruction, one horseman dashed in front, waving his plumed hat, and meeting them-- sending all but about half a score round to the left, so that they skirted the mora.s.s, just as they were on the point of charging in.

"Some one who knows the danger," muttered Fred, as he galloped on.

"Scarlett, of course. It must have been he."

Another five minutes, with the foremost men not half a dozen yards behind, brought Fred to the top of a hill, beyond which he could see the park, and to his horror the general's men were only then hurrying up into formation, with their officers galloping excitedly to and fro.

"Hold out, good old horse," panted Fred,--as he glanced back once more to see that capture must be certain now. "Another five minutes, and I could be with them," he sobbed out breathlessly; and, as if his horse understood him, or else nerved by the sight of his fellows so near at hand, he lay out like a greyhound, just as a trumpet blast rang out on Fred's left from the main body of the Cavaliers, a call whose effect was that Fred's pursuers who had skirted the right of the mora.s.s, turned off to the left, and rode on so as to regain their places in the ranks, where their presence would be of more value than in pursuing a few scattered outposts.

To an ordinary commander, the act of the Royalist leader seemed utter madness. The horses of his men were half-blown by a long gallop, and they were about to charge a body of st.u.r.dy cavalry, whose mounts were rested and fresh.

But there was no hesitation. As they drew near, the trumpets rang out, steel flashed, feathers flew, the horses snorted, and with a wild hurrah! the Royalist troops literally raced against the advancing Parliamentarians. There was a shock, the crash of steel, a roar as of thunder, horse and man went headlong down on the green turf of the Hall park, and to General Hedley's chagrin, and in spite of the valour of his officers, and the stern stuff of which his men were composed, the gallantry and dash of the first regiment was such that it seemed as if a wedge had been driven through his ranks, and his discomfiture was completed by the following charge of the second Cavalier line.

One minute his well-trained hors.e.m.e.n were advancing in good formation to meet the shock of the Royalists, the next, discipline seemed to be at an end, and the Parliamentarians were in full flight.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

SAMSON TO THE RESCUE.

Unscathed, in spite of the terrible dangers of the _melee_, Fred, after succeeding in reaching his companions, joined them in their charge, and was driven back in their reverse, riding headlong as they rode in what was hardly a retreat, but rather a running fight, till seeing his opportunity, he made for where he could see General Hedley striving, in company with the officers, to check the retrograde movement, but striving in vain.

For there was a wild valour and dash exhibited by the Cavaliers, which for the time being carried all before them. No sooner had something like a rally been made by the Parliamentarians, than the Royalists charged at them in a headlong rush, which would have ended in almost total destruction with some troops.

But there was a st.u.r.dy solidity about the followers of General Hedley, and the result of these charges was that, while some fell, the others were merely moved here and there, and as soon as their a.s.sailants had pa.s.sed on they seemed to hang together again, driven outward always, but not scattered. In fact, for mile after mile the running fight was continued, growing slower and slower as horse and man were wearied out, till, had a minute's grace been afforded them, General Hedley felt that he could have gathered his men together, and by one vigorous charge have changed the state of affairs.

But the opportunity for re-formation was never afforded, and the great crowd of mounted men of both parties rode on mingled together in confusion, right over the wild moorland countryside. The number of individual combats was almost countless, and their track was marked by the heather being dotted with fallen men, the wounded, and often the dismounted, and by exhausted or hopelessly foundered horses.

And still the fight went on, with the attacks growing more feeble, till the Cavaliers' horses could hardly be spurred into a canter, and many a one stopped short.

It was a strange flight, in which the beaten gave way slowly, and with an obstinate English tenacity of purpose, which made them cling to their enemies, and refuse to acknowledge their rout. They were broken up, and, according to all preconceived notions of cavalry encounters, they ought to have scattered and fled, but they only went on as they were driven and broken up in knots, and the Cavalier leader knew perfectly well that the moment he ceased his efforts, the other party would, as it were, flow together again and return their charge, perhaps with fatal results to his little force, for his men were growing completely exhausted.

"If I could only get a troop together!" muttered General Hedley between his teeth; and again and again he tried to rally his men. But the Cavaliers dashed at them directly, the efforts proved vain, and the _melee_ continued--a struggle in which order was absent, and men struck and rode at each other, broke their weapons, and often engaged in a mounted wrestling bout, which ended in a pair of adversaries falling headlong to the ground. Fred would have been out of the skirmish early in the engagement from the exhaustion of his horse, but as the pace grew slower, the poor brute recovered itself somewhat, and whenever flight or attack grew more rapid, exerted itself naturally to keep as near as could be in the ranks.

The scene was terrible for one so young, as he sat there grimly, often in the middle of a confused crowd, his sword drawn ready more for defence than offence, for now that the excitement of the flight was over, and he had rejoined his regiment, there was little of the blind desire to strike and slay in Fred Forrester's breast. He contented himself with turning aside thrusts and meeting blows with a clever guard, as some Cavalier tried to reach him, while twice over he found another sword interposed on his behalf.

The fight must have lasted for half an hour, when about a dozen of the Cavaliers raised a shout, and made a dash at where General Hedley was slowly retreating, their object being evidently to take him prisoner before, from sheer exhaustion, the pursuit was given up.

But the idea was not so easy to carry out, though for the moment the general was alone. The horse he rode was strong and fairly fresh, those of his would-be captors pretty well foundered, and, in addition, there was help at hand.

Fred had just had a narrow escape, for a stout Cavalier had forced his own horse alongside, contriving, in spite of the lad's efforts, to get upon his left or weaker side, and pressing him sorely. Fred had need for all the skill with the sword he had picked up since he had been with the army, and he had dire need for more power in his muscles, for after a minute's foining and thrusting, he found his guard beaten down through his adversary's superior strength, a hand was outstretched, catching him by the collar of his jerkin, and in spite of his efforts he was dragged sidewise toward the pommel of his enemy's horse.

"I'll have one prisoner, at all events," growled the man, fiercely; and he gave Fred's horse a savage kick in the ribs, with the intention of making him start away.

Had the horse followed the enemy's wishes, his rider would have been unseated, but, instead of starting away, the well-drilled beast pressed closer alongside the horse by his side, and Fred still clung to the saddle.

"Ah, you wretched young Puritan sp.a.w.n! Would you sting?" growled the man, as Fred made a desperate effort to use his sword. "Then take that."

The Cavalier rose in his stirrups, and was in the act of striking with all his might, when a fresh sword parted the air like a flash, swung as it was by a muscular arm, and the middle of the blade caught the Cavalier trooper right upon the plated cheek-strap of the morion he wore, dividing it so that the steel cap flew off, and the man dropped back over the cantle of his saddle, his frightened horse making a bound forward and carrying his master a dozen yards before he fell heavily on the heath.

"Who says I can't use a sword as well as a scythe?" cried a familiar voice.

"Oh, Samson, you've saved my life," cried Fred.

"Serve you right, too, my lad--I mean, serve him right, too. Trying to chop 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 make another 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 see now. Your brother."

"What, Nat? Where, where? Let me get at him. There's going to be a prisoner took now, Master Fred, and he'll have to look sharp to get away."

Samson set spurs to his horse, but Fred checked him by seizing the bridle.

"No, no," he said; "keep by me, and let's close up to the general. This is no time for personal feelings, Samson. We must think only of our party."

"Ah, well, I won't hurt him, Master Fred; but how would you like your brother 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 the direction where, about a hundred yards away, Scarlett was in the midst of a group of the Cavaliers, who were steadily driving the grim Cromwellian troopers before them, and effectually keeping them from combining so as to retaliate with effect.

Then Scarlett was hidden from his sight, and yielding slowly step by step, the Parliamentarians kept up a defiant retreat.

It might be supposed that at such a time the slaughter would be terrible; but, after the first onset, when men went down headlong, the number of killed and wounded were few. For there were no withering volleys of musketry, no field-pieces playing upon the disorganised cavalry from a distance; it was a sheer combat of mounted men armed with the sword, against whose edge and point defensive armour was worn; and in consequence many of the wounds were insignificant, more injuries being received by men being dismounted than by the blades.

The officers of the retreating party kept up their efforts to rally their little force, but always in vain, for the gathering together of a cl.u.s.ter of men resulted in the Cavaliers making that the point for which they 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 his men to follow, and, taking advantage of the fresher state of their horses, put on all the speed they could, and make for a valley right ahead, where they might elude their pursuers, and accepting the present defeat endeavour to make up for it another time.

Giving the order then, the trumpet rang out, and the men sullenly obeyed, setting spurs to their horses, and for the most part extricating themselves from their pursuers, whose horses began to stagger and even stop as their masters urged them to the ascent of a slope, up which the Parliamentarians were retreating.

This being the case, their own leader ordered his trumpeter to sound a halt, and the successful party set up a tremendous cheer as they waved their hats and flashed their swords in the sunshine.

"Yes," muttered General Hedley, as he looked back at his triumphant enemies exulting over his defeat, but too helpless to pursue, "make much of it; a reverse may come sooner than you expect."