Arrah Neil; or, Times of Old. G. P. R. James

just heard.

      "Ah!" said Randal, in his usual dry and deliberate tone, "ah! Five hundred and fifty musketeers--rather better, than three to one. That would not matter if the ground were fair; but these ditches, these ditches! they are awkward things in the way of cavalry; if our horses could leap them as easily as their shot, the matter would soon be settled. Does any one know what the ground is like there? They will gall us sadly if we have to expose our flank to the wood."

      "I fear so, indeed," replied Lord Walton; "but perhaps, if I were to pass the next bridge, take a circuit round and dislodge them, while you pursue your way along the road, we might contrive to get into better fighting ground."

      "Let us see what it is like first," said Randal: "here comes your newsmonger, my lord; we shall learn more from him. Now, master yeoman, how does the land lie about the wood? is there good room for a charge, or is it cut up like this?"

      "Between the wood and the road," answered Hurst, "it is just like a gridiron, with ditches enough to drain the sea."

      "And behind the wood, do you know anything of that?" continued Randal.

      "It is good enough there," said the horseman, divining the object of his question, "but you cannot get at it for the river.

      "They have some good soldiers amongst them," said Randal. "Such ground was not chosen by one of the old bottle-nosed serving-men of London."

      "They must have good intelligence, too," said Lord Walton, "to fix so exactly on a point where they can best attack us. If it were not for my sister and the women, we might take their fire in passing, and get into the good ground beyond; but the carriages and baggage would prove a sad encumbrance."

      "Ah, women, women!" cried Randal, "they are the causes of all the mischief in the world. However, we must dispose of them, and must take our resolution quickly; there is no going back now, my lord, and we must make our way forward at whatever risk. Luckily, you have brought all the spare horses and the women's saddles; they must quit the carriages and mount. As for the baggage, it must take its chance and belong to the winners."

      "But I cannot expose my sister," exclaimed Lord Walton, "to such an affair as this--she can go back to the village."

      "No, no," said Randal, quickly; "there is no need of that; this good yeoman can guide her round with the rest of the women, while we make our way forward, and do the best that we can with these gentry in front. They will not chase her if we keep on our way; but if we quit the road, they will of course draw to their left and cut us off between the causeway and the water. Now, my lord, be quick; get them out and away: I will send a dozen of my men to escort them, with Barecolt at their head. 'Tis the best task for him; for, though he does not want courage, with women he will have room to talk, and that is his chief occupation. He may lie, too, there, as much as he likes, and nobody will find him out. Now, master yeoman, you be guide--lead these ladies over the moor, round by the back of that great pond, and into the open ground above it. When you get to that mound with the trees on it, you may halt a bit, and watch what we are about on the road. If you see that we get the worst, put to the spur, and gallop on till you rejoin the Coventry road, then on as fast as may be to the king, who will be in Coventry by noon to-morrow. If you see we make good our ground, come back and join us."

      "But there are horse in that village, sir," answered Hurst.

      "That can't be helped," replied Randal; "we have no other chance. Besides, they may be our people as well as the enemy's.--Stay; it may be as well to see: I will send on Barecolt, while you halt on the hill. He can play either part--swear and swagger like the most licentious Cavalier, or cant and pule like the most starched Puritan."

      While this conversation had been taking place, the party had not ceased to advance slowly along the road; but the order to halt was now given, and preparations were made for carrying into execution the plan decided upon. The carriages were stopped, Miss Walton and her attendants were placed hastily upon the spare horses which had been brought from Bishop's Merton, and the small body under Captain Barecolt were drawn out, and commanded to fall into the rear. Annie Walton did all that she was told to do without a word; but she looked in her brother's face, as he placed her on horseback, and, bending down her beautiful head, kissed his cheek, while a silent, irrepressible tear rose in her eye.

      "Do not fear, Annie--do not, fear," said Charles Walton; "we will soon put these fellows to the rout."

      But it is vain, in moments of danger and difficulty, to commend courage to those who, by fate or situation, are doomed to inactivity; for they must still feel for those that they love, if not for themselves; and though Miss Walton considered not for one moment the personal peril which she encountered, her heart beat with apprehensions for her brother, which no words could quiet or remove. Lord Walton then turned to Arrah Neil, who was already mounted, and leaning his hand on the horse's neck, he asked--"Can you manage the horse, my poor Arrah? had you not better ride behind a trooper?"

      "Oh, no," she said; "no, I can ride quite well--I remember now;" and, indeed, the manner in which she held her rein, the ease and grace with which she sat the horse, and the command which she had over it, though a powerful and spirited animal, clearly showed that at some time she must have been well accustomed to such exercise.

      Lord Walton looked down with a thoughtful expression of countenance, as if there were something that puzzled him. But just at that moment Major Randal rode up, exclaiming.--"We must lose no more time, my lord; if we halt any longer here, they may see what we are about, and act accordingly. I shall order the troop to advance, for women are always slow, and they must come after us as they can, till they reach the little bridge up yonder. Let the carts and carriages come first, and the women can bring up the rear. Now, mark ye, Barecolt, follow this good yeoman, with the ladies under your charge, till you reach that little mound with the trees on the right. You can deliver your stomach by the way of any of the wild imaginations that may fret you; but when you get to the mound you must give up talking, and, riding on to the village alone, make use of your wits, if you have any left, to ascertain whether there be a troop of horse in it, and of what side."

      "Alone?" said Barecolt.

      "To be sure," answered Randal, with a laugh; "the man who preached in the morning at Rochelle, and defeated the Papists in the evening, who defended the pass in the Cevennes single-handed against a whole army, may well go on alone to reconnoitre a handful of cavalry. Besides, it will make you careful, Master Barecolt, when you know that your own life depends on your own tongue."

      "It has often done that," answered Barecolt. "I remember, when I was in Spain, being attacked by some twenty banditti, and putting my back against a rock----"

      "March!" cried Randal, interrupting him; "tell that to the girls. It will do to pass the time as well as any other lie;" and riding on, he led the way, while Lord Walton continued by his sister's side, till, reaching the little bridge, the good farmer, Hurst, turned off from the road into the meadows, followed by the young lady, her servants, and the escort.

      With anxious eyes Annie Walton and Arrah Neil watched the advance of the larger party of horse towards the wood before them, although neither of them had heard the exact cause of alarm, or was aware of where the danger was to be apprehended, or what was its nature. All they knew was, that peril lay upon the onward road; and, notwithstanding all the assiduities of Captain Barecolt, who, riding by their side wherever the space admitted it, endeavoured to entertain them with some of the monstrous fictions in which his imagination was accustomed to indulge, they listened not to his tales, they scarcely even heard his words, but, their eyes turned constantly to the road they had just quitted, pursued a path, forming with it an acute angle, which led round the back of a large piece of water that lay gleaming before them.

      Once or twice they had to dismount, and lead their horses over the little wooden bridges which crossed the ditches intersecting the plain; and more than once, where these were so insecure as to give way under the horses' feet, they were forced to quit their direct line, and take a circuit. Nevertheless, as they cantered quickly over the turf between, they had reached the little tree-covered knoll which had been pointed out as their halting-place, before the troop which was pursuing the high-road had arrived at the spot where the low