rk, but better than being taken prisoners."

They rode on down into the coombe, and followed its wanderings with rear
and advance guards, though they felt but little fear of pursuit, and for
a long time hardly a word was spoken along the ranks. The horses were
going at a foot-pace, and as they went the troopers played surgeon to
each other, and bound up the slight wounds they had received, for these
were many, though not enough to render them beyond fighting if necessity
should occur.

Once the general called a halt, and posted scouts on the hills around,
while he gave his men an opportunity to water their horses at the
running stream at the bottom of the coombe, and to attend to the wounds
the poor beasts had received, many a sword-cut intended for the rider
having fallen upon his horse.

The surgery in these cases was simple and effectual. It consisted in
thrusting a pin, sometimes two, through the skin which formed the lips
of the wound, and then twisting a piece of thread round and round the
pin, passing it first under the head, and then under the point, the
result being that the wound was drawn close, and so retained with a pad
of thread. This rough treatment generally proved sufficient, and while
the treatment was in progress the poor animals stood patiently turning
their great, soft, earnest eyes upon the operator with a mournful look
which seemed to say, "Don't hurt me more than you can help." Sometimes,
but these were the exceptions, when instead of the above a stab had to
be attended to, and a plug of flax thrust in, the horse would start, and
give an angry stamp with its hoof, but only to stand patiently again, as
if it resigned itself to its master, who must know what was best.

The general soon gave orders to continue the march, for he knew that the
longer they stayed the stiffer and sorer his force would be; and once
more the retreat was continued in a south-westerly direction, while, as
the afternoon began to grow old, Samson, after having been very silent
for a long time, turned sharply round.

"What are you thinking about, Master Fred?"

"I was wondering whether Scarlett Markham will behave as well to my
mother as I did to his."

"He'd better," said Samson, fiercely. Then, after a pause, "Oh, I don't
feel afraid about that, sir. He's sure to. You see, he's a gentleman,
and there's a deal in being a gentleman. He'll take care of her, never
fear. That's not what I was thinking."

"What w