“Where is the Duke?” I asked after a long awkward pause. “Is he at Taunton?” They looked from one to the other with strange looks which I did not understand.
“The Duke be at Bridgewater,” said one of them in a curious tone. “What be you doing away from the Duke?”
“Why,” I said, “I was taken prisoner. I escaped this morning.”
“Yes?” they said with some show of eagerness. “Be there many soldiers hereaway, after us?”
“No. Not many,” I said. “Are you coming from the Duke?”
“Yes,” said one of them, “we left en at Bridgewater. We have been having enough of fighting for the crown. We been marching in mud up to our knees. We been fighting behind hedges. We been retreating for the last week. So now us be going home, if us can get there. Glad if we never sees a fight again.”
“Well,” I said, “I must get to the Duke if I can. How far is it to Bridgewater?”
“Matter of fifteen mile,” they said, after a short debate. “You'll never get there tonight. Nor perhaps tomorrow, since we hear the soldiers be a coming.”
“I'll get some of the way tonight,” I said; but my heart sank at the thought; for I was tired out.
“No, young master,” said one of the men kindly, “you stop with us for tonight. Come to supper with us. Us 'ave rabbits on the fire.” Their fortnight of war had given them a touch of that comradeship which camp-life always gives. They took me with them to their camp-fire, where they fed me on a wonderful mess of rabbits boiled with herbs. The men had bread. One of them had cider. Our feast there was most pleasant; or would have been, had not the talk of these deserters been so melancholy. They were flying to their homes like hunted animals, after a fortnight of misery which had altered their faces forever. They had been in battle; they had retreated through mud; they had seen all the ill-fortune of war. They did all that they could to keep me from my purpose; but I had made up my mind to rejoin my master; I was not to be moved. Before settling down to sleep for the night I helped the men to set wires for rabbits, an art which I had not understood till then, but highly useful to a lad so fated to adventurous living as myself. We slept in various parts of the spinney, wherever there was good shelter; but we were all so full of jangling nerves that our sleep was most uneasy. We woke very early, visited our wires, then breakfasted heartily on the night's take. The men insisted on giving me a day's provision to take with me, which I took, though grudgingly, for they had none too much for themselves, poor fellows. Just before we parted I wrote a note to Sir Travers, on a leaf of my pocketbook. “Dear Sir Travers,” I wrote, “These men are well-known to me as honest subjects. They have had great troubles on their road. I hope that you will help them to get home. Please remember me very kindly to your niece.” After folding this very neatly I gave the precious piece of impudence to one of the men. “There,” I said, “if you are stopped, insist on being carried before Sir Travers. He knows me. I am sure that he will help you as far as he can.” For this the men thanked me humbly. I learned, too, that it was of service to them. It saved them all from arrest later in the same day.