Granville and I, together with Sergeant Lawson, all soberly clad and armed, were to ride at some distance behind the waggon, so as to present the appearance of a party of travellers having no interest in the convoy and we had agreed, when putting up for the night, to treat Colonel Firestone as a chance acquaintance, so as to disarm any suspicions which the presence of a body of armed men would give rise to.
The final farewells were said, and the gates were thrown open. Then, with a dull rumble, the waggon lumbered over the lowered drawbridge, and our journey to the King's camp at Oxford had begun.
Directly we struck the highway we took up the order agreed upon; but so slow was the pace that Granville and I exercised our steeds by galloping over the green sward which bordered the road on either side, though keeping well within sight of our precious charge.
Up the tedious ascent of Butser Hill the waggon crawled at a snail's pace. At frequent intervals parties of horsemen passed us, either bound for London, or else making towards Portsmouth, and, though most of them were undoubtedly rebels, they hindered us not, though many were the sour and distrustful glances they shot at us.
Hard by the town of Petersfield the waggon turned oft to the left, to avoid the town, which, rumour said, was full of the Parliamentary troops, and, moreover, the inhabitants of Ashley Castle were well known to the countryside.
Winchester was, we learned, in the hands of the Royalists, and thither we directed our way, intending to cross the downs to Newbury, and so on to Oxford, our only fear being that we should fall in with the Parliamentarians marching to join the Earl of Essex.
It was nearly sunset ere the waggon turned in under the archway of the King's Head, and a quarter of an hour later Granville and I galloped up, followed by Lawson.
Granville and I having arrived at the inn, I demanded in an imperious voice accommodation for the night, asking at the same time whether there were other travellers staying there?
"None save a country gentleman and a merchant from Southampton," replied the landlord. "Right worthy company you'll find them, sirs."
"I hope so, too," I replied, and, dismissing the sergeant, for whom lodging was provided above the stables, Granville and I joined the colonel, keeping up the pretence by craving the liberty of introducing ourselves to him and to the merchant of Southampton, who gave his name as Henry Cutler.