indow open and turned into bed. He rose rather later than usual,
and on going down to breakfast mentioned what he had heard during the
night; but no one had been disturbed, and his father declared that he
must have been dreaming. Roger asserted that he had both seen and heard
a large body of men passing. The Colonel was somewhat unwell, and Mr
Willoughby never left the house at an early hour, so Roger volunteered
to go out and ascertain if anything unusual had taken place. He had
just got to the edge of the plantations which bordered the high-road,
when he heard the tramp of horses, and looking along it, saw a large
body of mounted men trotting along at a fast rate coming from the
direction of Bridport. Not wishing to encounter them, he crouched down
among the underwood. At their head rode one of the officers who had
landed with the Duke, who he heard was Lord Grey. His followers seemed
to be in a desperate hurry, some pushing on before the others, as the
oxen in a large drove are apt to do when the dogs are barking at their
heels. They looked neither to the right hand nor to the left. The road
was somewhat narrow, only three or four could ride abreast; thus they
were some time in passing. Roger fancied they had all gone by, when,
looking up, he observed a smaller party riding in better order. In the
last among them, and apparently acting as an officer, he recognised
Stephen Battiscombe, who kept continually turning round as if he
expected some one to be following. Roger was much inclined to shout out
and ask what had occurred, but he restrained himself, for he thought it
possible that some of the men might look upon him as an enemy or a spy,
and make him a prisoner. The appearance of Stephen had left no doubt
that the party belonged to the Duke, and that they had been engaged in
some expedition which had apparently not been successful. He now went
on to the village, expecting there to obtain some certain information.
Except the landlord of the little inn, who was too burly and
short-winded to move, not a man did he find in the place.

"They are all gone, Master Roger," said Joe Tippler; "marched away to
Lyme to join the Duke of Monmouth. The Duke, they say, will soon have a
mighty army, and go and take London town."

Several women to whom he spoke could give him no further information; no
one appeared to have heard the force passing during the night. Being
unable to gain any further information, he was