a lift I asked at one
of these clumps where I could find the Duke. I was feeling so happy
at the thought of rejoining my master, after all my adventures, that I
think I never felt so happy.

"Where can I find the Duke?" I asked. "I'm his servant, I must find
him."

"Find him?" said one of the talkers. "He's not here. He's marched out,
sir, with all his army, over to Sedgemoor to fight the King's army. It's
a night attack, sir."

I was bitterly disappointed at not having reached my journey's end; but
there was a stir in the thought of battle. I asked by which road I could
get to the place where the battle would be. The man told me to turn to
the right after crossing the river. "But," said he, "you don't want to
get mixed up in the fighting, master. There be thousands out there on
the moor. A boy would be nowhere among all them."

"Yes," said another. "Better stay here, sir. If the Duke wins he'll be
back afore breakfast. If he gets beat, you'd be best out of the way."

This was sound advice; but I was not in a mood to profit by it.
Something told me that the battle was to be a victory for us; so I
thanked the men, telling them that I would go out over the moor by the
road they had mentioned. As I moved away, they called out to me to mind
myself, for the King's dragoons were on the moor, as a sort of screen
in front of their camp. By the road they had mentioned I might very well
get into the King's camp without seeing anything of my master. One of
them added that the battle would begin, or might begin, long before I
got there, "if the mist don't lead en astray, like."

It took me some few minutes to get out of the gates across the river;
for there was a press of people crowded there. It was as dark as
a summer night ever is, that is, a sort of twilight, when I passed
through, but just at the gates were two great torches stuck into rings
in the wall. The wind made their flames waver about uncertainly, so that
sometimes you could see particular faces in the crowd, all lit in muddy
gold light for an instant, before the wavering made them dark again.
Several mounted men were there, trying to pass. Among them, in one
sudden glare, I saw Aurelia on her Arab, reined in beside Sir Travers,
whose horse was kicking out behind him. I passed them by so close that
I touched Aurelia's riding habit as I crept out of the press. They were
talking together, just behind me, as I crept from the town over the
bridge above which the sum