In the Days of Queen Mary

by E. E. Crake

At ten o'clock a gun would be fired and all fires would be put out, all strangers turned out of camp, and stillness would come down where pandemonium had so lately held sway.

The passing of the travellers through the camp excited no observation nor surprise. Armed couriers were frequently sent out to the outlying posts and the neighbouring towns. These latter were falling daily into the possession of the conquering army.

So the party rode forward unmolestedly and slowly till the confines of the camp were reached. Before them lay the broad trackway which led to Brussels. It was a rough, rugged road, but it was sufficiently plain to follow, even in the semi-darkness of the night. The late contending armies had passed along it recently, and all wayside inns and even private houses had been ruthlessly plundered and, in most cases, burnt. The despoiled inhabitants, the peasantry, the woodsmen, the charcoal burners, and a host of others had fled into the woods for safety. Desperate and starving, the men had formed themselves into marauding bands, and many a fair chateau, many a quiet, peaceful farm-house and village hamlet had been plundered by them in turn.

Each night the reddened sky told of some dreadful fire, and for the moment the law was powerless. Woe to the unarmed traveller, woe to the wounded straggler who limped behind his regiment if they fell into the hands of a furious peasantry!

This was one of the dangers which Philip had in his mind when he told the young men that their chief peril would be as they passed through French territory.

"Halt!" cried Geoffrey, as the party entered upon the military road, and all drew rein and gathered around him. "It is right, my lads," said he, "that you should know whither we ride to-night, and, as you will share whatever perils may befall us, whither we go. We ride on the King's business to Brussels, that is our first halting-place. Before us lies a long journey, perhaps of ten or twelve hours in duration, through the enemy's country. Be wary, be watchful, see that your pistols are ready for service and your swords loose in their sheaths. We ride at a hand-gallop, not too fast lest we distress our horses too soon. You, Robin, will be our advance-guard, and you will ride a hundred yards ahead of us. You, Hal, will ride a hundred yards behind us, and you, Tom, will keep close to our rear, we may need you as a messenger. A shrill whistle will be the signal that we all unite in one body, that danger is near. The advance-guard will ever be on the alert to see that the road is clear, that no obstacles be placed in our way by the 'gueux' who haunt these devastated regions. The rear-guard will see, above all things, that we are not followed by foes. Now have I made all things clear?"

"Aye, aye, sir," cried the men.

"Then let us ride on, in God's name," said Geoffrey.

Robin galloped forward, the four men followed in close order, the rear-guard took up his allotted position. The lights from the camp illumined the country in the rear, and for a long time the hum of the warlike multitude filled the air.

Thus half-an-hour passed; they were galloping at a fairly easy pace along the rough road, and the great Flemish horses were warming to their work, sometimes neighing gaily as they tossed their heavy manes in the air.