"And where's my Jack?" exclaimed Goody Bent.
"And where's our Harry?" was another cry from Widow Lakin.
While Stead longed to ask, but could not be heard in the clamour, whether his brother had been there.
Hodge could tell little—seen less than the lookers on above. He had been among those who had charged through the enemy, and ridden towards Bristol, but his horse had been struck by a stray shot, and killed under him. He had avoided the pursuers by scrambling through a hedge, and then had thought it best to make his way through the fields to his own home, until, seeing the party on the hill, he had joined them, expecting to find his parents among them.
Sir George he knew to be on before him, and probably almost at Bristol by this time. Poor Jack had been left weeks ago on the field of Naseby, though there had been no opportunity of letting his family know. "Ill news travels fast enough!" And as to Harry, he had been shot down by a trooper near about the bridge, but mayhap might be alive for all that.
"And my brother, Jeph Kenton," Steadfast managed to say. "Was he there?"
"Jeph Kenton! Why, he's a canting Roundhead. The only Elmwood man as is! More shame for him."
"But was he there?" demanded Stead.
"There! Well, Captain Venn's horse were there, and he was in them! I have seen him more than once on outpost duty, prating away as if he had a beard on his chin. I'd a good mind to put a bullet through him to stop his impudence, for a disgrace to the place."
"Then he was in the fight?" reiterated Steadfast.