"Lymington is full of troopers, and they are not over-civil," replied
Benjamin. "And the old lady—where is she?"
"Ah, that's a sad business," replied Benjamin, "and the poor children, too. Poor Master Edward! he would have made a brave gentleman."
"But the old lady is safe," rejoined Jacob. "Did you see her?"
"Yes, I saw her; they thought she was King Charles—poor old soul."
"But they have found out their mistake by this time?"
"Yes, and James Southwold has found it out too," replied Benjamin; "to think of the old lady breaking his neck!"
"Breaking his neck? You don't say so! How was it?"
"Why, it seems that Southwold thought that she was King Charles dressed up as an old woman, so he seized her and strapped her fast behind him, and galloped away with her to Lymington; but she struggled and kicked so manfully, that he could not hold on, and off they went together, and he broke his neck."
"Indeed! A judgment—a judgment upon a traitor," said Jacob.
"They were picked up, strapped together as they were, by the other troopers, and carried to Lymington."