rom
time to time.

Presently, as he came near a hawthorn bush which cast a strangely shaped
shadow, he heard a sobbing--not like the panting moan of a wounded man,
but the worn out crying of a tired child. He thought some village little
one must have wandered there, and been hemmed in by the fight, and he
called out--

"Is anyone there?"

The sobbing ceased for a moment and he called again, "Who is it? I won't
hurt you," for something white seemed to be squeezing closer into the
bush.

"Who are you for?" piped out a weak little voice.

"I'm no soldier," said Steadfast. "Come out, I'll take you home
by-and-by."

"I have no home!" was the answer. "I want father."

Steadfast was now under the tree, and could see that it was a little
girl who was sheltering there of about the same size as Rusha. He tried
to take her hand, but she backed against the tree, and he repeated "Come
along, I wouldn't hurt you for the world. Who is your father? Where
shall we find him?"

"My father is Serjeant Gaythorn of Sir Harry Blythedale's troopers,"
said the child, somewhat proudly, then starting again, "You are not a
rebel, are you?"

"No, I am a country lad," said Steadfast; "I want to help you. Come, you
can't stay here."

For the little hand she had yielded to him was cold and damp with the
September dews. His touch seemed to give her confidence, and when he
asked, "Can't I take you to your mother?" she answered--

"Mother's dead! The rascal Roundheads shot her over at Naseby."

"Poor child! poor child!" said Steadfast. "And you came on with your
father."

"Yes, he took me on his horse over the water, and told me to wait by the
bush till he came or sent for me, but he has not come, and the firing is
over and it is dark, and I'm so hungry."

Steadfast thought the child had better come home with him, but she
declared that father would come back for her. He felt convinced that
her father, if alive, must be in Bristol, and that he could hardly come
through the enemy's outposts, and he explained to her this view. To
his surprise she understood in a moment, having evidently much more
experience of military matters than he had, and when he further told
her that Hodge was at Elmwood, and would no doubt rejoin his regiment
at Bristol the next day, she seemed satisfied, and with the prospect of
supper before her, trotted along, holding Steadfast's hand and munching
a crust which he had found in his pouch, the remains of the inte