te pain-drawn faces that peeped
over the side of the waggon, and the chorus of groans, cries, and
ejaculations which broke in upon the steady earnest voice of the pastor.
Above us the brilliant heavens, beneath us the beautiful sloping valley,
stretching away in the white moonlight as far as the eye could reach.
Could I but paint such a scene with the brush of a Verrio or Laguerre, I
should have no need to describe it in these halting and feeble words.

Master Pettigrue had concluded his thanksgiving, and was in the act of
rising to his feet, when the musical peal of a bell rose up from the
sleeping town before us. For a minute or more it rose and fell in its
sweet clear cadence. Then a second with a deeper, harsher note joined
in, and then a third, until he air was filled with the merry jangling.
At the same time a buzz of shouting or huzzaing could be heard, which
increased and spread until it swelled into a mighty uproar. Lights
flashed in the windows, drums beat, and the whole place was astir. These
sudden signs of rejoicing coming at the heels of the minister's prayer
were seized upon as a happy omen by the superstitious peasants, who set
up a glad cry, and pushing onwards were soon within the outskirts of the
town.

The footpaths and causeway were black with throngs of the townsfolk,
men, women, and children, many of whom were bearing torches and
lanthorns, all flocking in the same direction. Following them we found
ourselves in the market-place, where crowds of apprentice lads were
piling up faggots for a bonfire, while others were broaching two or
three great puncheons of ale. The cause of this sudden outbreak of
rejoicing was, we learned, that news had just come in that Albemarle's
Devonshire militia had partly deserted and partly been defeated at
Axminster that very morning. On hearing of our own successful skirmish
the joy of the people became more tumultuous than ever. They rushed in
amongst us, pouring blessings on our heads, in their strange burring
west-country speech, and embracing our horses as well as ourselves.
Preparations were soon made for our weary companions. A long empty wool
warehouse, thickly littered with straw, was put at their disposal, with
a tub of ale and a plentiful supply of cold meats and wheaten bread.
For our own part we made our way down East Street through the clamorous
hand-shaking crowd to the White Hart Inn, where after a hasty meal we
were right glad to seek our couches. Late