ere 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
cluster 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."

"I don't like being beaten like this, Master Fred," grumbled Samson,
leaning over to smooth the reeking coat of the horse his young master
rode; "and it's all your fault."

"My fault? How?"

"Holding me back as you did, and letting that brother of mine get away
sneering and snigger