"Captain Hosea Smith, and dragoons, of Garth's regiment, with despatches for Colonel Voysey at Petersfield."
"How fares our cause against the malignants?"
"The castle has fallen."
"The enemies of the Lord are as ripe corn before the sickle. Pass, captain, and fare ye well."
We lost no time in taking our departure, for already my quick ear detected the sound of approaching horsemen along the distant Portsmouth road; and barely had we left the outpost a hundred paces behind us when a fierce hubbub arose from the Parliamentary troops, while a musket-shot gave the alarm that something was amiss.
"They'll be at our heels within five minutes," exclaimed Lawson. "Ride straight for the hill!"
Clattering through the sleeping village of Cosham, we turned aside from the main road that leads to the City of London, and gained the grassy sward, and I began to realise that our horses were slowly and laboriously climbing a long and steep ascent.
At the summit was a hard chalk road, and here we dismounted to rest our weary steeds, and, throwing ourselves on the damp grass, we listened intently for any sounds of pursuit.
We were at a considerable height above the sea, for almost below us, as it seemed, were the watch-fires of the rebel outpost at Portsbridge, which we had ridden through but twenty minutes before. The camp was in a state of uproar, men shouting, horses neighing, while from the road below came the sounds of a body of horses rapidly galloping in the direction they had supposed us to have taken.
At length the day began to dawn, and, led by Sergeant Lawson, whose knowledge of the country was surprising, we descended the hill by a more gradual slope, keeping a safe distance from, but following the general direction of, the London road.