s.
The country was overrun by thieves, who stole horses in the name of the
Duke or of the King; nothing was safe anywhere. The general hope of the
people was for Monmouth to be beaten soon, or to be victorious soon.
They had lost quite enough by him; they wanted the rebellion over.

At last, just when I had begun to think the thing hopeless, I found an
honest Quaker about to ride to Bridgewater with a basket of Bibles for
the Duke's men. He did not ask me what my business at Bridgewater
might be; but he knew that no one would want to go there at such a time
without good cause. "Well," he said, "if you can ride small, you shall
ride behind me, but it will be slow riding, as the horse will be heavily
laden." He was going to start at eight o'clock, so as to travel
all night, when the marauders, whether deserters from the Duke or
ill-conditioned country people, were always less busy. I had time to
get some supper for myself in the tavern-bar before starting. Just as
we were about to ride off together, when we were in the saddle, waiting
only till some carts rolled past the yard-door, I had a fright, for
there, coming into the inn yard, was one of the troopers who had
beguiled me from the Duke's army that day at Axminster. I had no doubt
that he was going from inn to inn, asking for news of me. We began to
move through the yard as he came towards us; the clack of the horse's
feet upon the cobbles made him look up; but though he stared at me hard,
he did so with an occupied mind; he was in such a brown study (as it is
called) that he never recognized me. A minute later, we were riding out
of town past the trench-labourers, my heart going pit-a-pat from the
excitement of my narrow escape. I dared not ask the Quaker to go fast,
lest he should worm my story from me, but for the first three miles I
assure you I found it hard not to prod that old nag with my knife to
make him quicken his two mile an hour crawl. Often during the first
hours of the ride I heard horses coming after us at a gallop. It was
all fancy; we were left to our own devices. My pursuers, I found,
afterwards, were misled by the lies of the landlord at the inn we had
left. We were being searched for in Taunton all that fatal night, by
half a dozen of the Carew servants.

Bridgewater had not gone to bed when we got there. The people were out
in the streets, talking in frightened clumps, expecting something. After
thanking the Quaker for his kindness in giving me