a bulky oak,
stole straight forth in the direction of the fire.

At last, through an opening of the wood, his eye embraced the scene of
the encampment. The fire had been built upon a heathy hummock of the
ground, surrounded on three sides by thicket, and it now burned very
strong, roaring aloud and brandishing flames. Around it there sat not
quite a dozen people, warmly cloaked; but though the neighbouring snow
was trampled down as by a regiment, Dick looked in vain for any horse.
He began to have a terrible misgiving that he was out-manoeuvred. At the
same time, in a tall man with a steel salet, who was spreading his hands
before the blaze, he recognised his old friend and still kindly enemy,
Bennet Hatch; and in two others, sitting a little back, he made out,
even in their male disguise, Joanna Sedley and Sir Daniel's wife.

"Well," thought he to himself, "even if I lose my horses, let me get my
Joanna, and why should I complain?"

And then, from the farther side of the encampment, there came a little
whistle, announcing that his men had joined, and the investment was
complete.

Bennet, at the sound, started to his feet; but ere he had time to spring
upon his arms, Dick hailed him.

"Bennet," he said--"Bennet, old friend, yield ye. Ye will but spill
men's lives in vain, if ye resist."

"'Tis Master Shelton, by St. Barbary!" cried Hatch. "Yield me? Ye ask
much. What force have ye?"

"I tell you, Bennet, ye are both outnumbered and begirt," said Dick.
"Caesar and Charlemagne would cry for quarter. I have two-score men at my
whistle, and with one shoot of arrows I could answer for you all."

"Master Dick," said Bennet, "it goes against my heart; but I must do my
duty. The saints help you!" And therewith he raised a little tucket to
his mouth and wound a rousing call.

Then followed a moment of confusion; for while Dick, fearing for the
ladies, still hesitated to give the word to shoot, Hatch's little band
sprang to their weapons and formed back to back as for a fierce
resistance. In the hurry of their change of place, Joanna sprang from
her seat and ran like an arrow to her lover's side.

"Here, Dick!" she cried, as she clasped his hand in hers.

But Dick still stood irresolute; he was yet young to the more deplorable
necessities of war, and the thought of old Lady Brackley checked the
command upon his tongue. His own men became restive. Some of them cried
on him by name; others, of their own accord, began t