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 spawn! 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 w