With a half-defiant salute he was gone, and, as they came again to the place where the Whitecoats lay, a party of Roundhead horsemen, riding by, halted suddenly.
"You are on the King's side," said the leader, with a sharp glance at Christopher. "I am Captain Murray, at your service, of Leslie's horse. I know you because you all but killed me in that last rally Rupert made. What, in the de'il's name, are you doing here—and with a lady?"
"We are under safe-conduct through the lines. Cromwell gave us the word Endeavour not five minutes since."
"Well, I need you, as it happens. There are many of your dead in Wilstrop Wood, and General Leslie has a soft heart—after the fight is done—like most Scotsmen. He sends me to find a King's man who can name the dead. 'They have wives and bairns, nae doot,' said Leslie in his dry way, 'and ill news is better than no news at a', for those who bide at hame.'"
Lady Ingilby was not sorry when her request to go with Kit was refused. After all, she had breakfasted on horrors and could take no further meal as yet.
"If he is there, Christopher," she whispered, "you will take me. If you do not find him, well. Either way, there is the God above us."
When they came to Wilstrop Wood—Lady Ingilby staying on the outskirts with three dour Scotsmen as a guard of honour—the wind was rustling through the trees. And from the ground there was a harsher rustle—the stir and unrest of men who could not die just yet, however they longed for the prison-gate of flesh to open.
The red-gold sunlight filtered through the cobwebs spun from tree to tree of Wilstrop Wood. And even Murray, who counted himself hard-bitten, stood aghast at what he saw. The underwood was white with bodies of the slain.
A great wrath and pity brought Kit's temper to a sudden heat. "Captain Murray," he said, "these dead have been robbed of all that hides their nakedness. I say it is a foul deed. Better have lost the fight than—than this."
"You will tell it to the world?" stammered Murray.