s seized by two of the Sussex scouts.
He submitted to his fate with the calmness of one to whom suspense was
more intolerable than despair. "Since we landed," he said, "I have not
had one comfortable meal or one quiet night." It could hardly be doubted
that the chief rebel was not far off. The pursuers redoubled their
vigilance and activity. The cottages scattered over the heathy country
on the boundaries of Dorsetshire and Hampshire were strictly examined
by Lumley; and the clown with whom Monmouth had changed clothes was
discovered. Portman came with a strong body of horse and foot to assist
in the search. Attention was soon drawn to a place well fitted to
shelter fugitives. It was an extensive tract of land separated by an
enclosure from the open country, and divided by numerous hedges into
small fields. In some of these fields the rye, the pease, and the oats
were high enough to conceal a man. Others were overgrown with fern and
brambles. A poor woman reported that she had seen two strangers lurking
in this covert. The near prospect of reward animated the zeal of the
troops. It was agreed that every man who did his duty in the search
should have a share of the promised five thousand pounds. The outer
fence was strictly guarded: the space within was examined with
indefatigable diligence; and several dogs of quick scent were turned out
among the bushes. The day closed before the work could be completed: but
careful watch was kept all night. Thirty times the fugitives ventured
to look through the outer hedge: but everywhere they found a sentinel
on the alert: once they were seen and fired at; they then separated and
concealed themselves in different hiding places.

At sunrise the next morning the search recommenced, and Buyse was found.
He owned that he had parted from the Duke only a few hours before. The
corn and copsewood were now beaten with more care than ever. At length
a gaunt figure was discovered hidden in a ditch. The pursuers sprang
on their prey. Some of them were about to fire: but Portman forbade
all violence. The prisoner's dress was that of a shepherd; his beard,
prematurely grey, was of several days' growth. He trembled greatly, and
was unable to speak. Even those who had often seen him were at first in
doubt whether this were truly the brilliant and graceful Monmouth. His
pockets were searched by Portman, and in them were found, among some raw
pease gathered in the rage of hunger, a watch, a purse of g