"You were on the way to join the Cornish army. What regiment did you intend serving in?"
"In Sir Bevil Granville's."
"In Sir Bevil Granville's? But I grieve to say Sir Bevil is dead, and the regiment well-nigh cut to pieces at Cropredy Bridge."
"And his son——"
"Sir Ralph Granville, as he must now be styled, has joined his sorry remnant to the command of Sir Ralph Hopton."
"Then under Sir Ralph Hopton will suit us."
"'Tis well. Malpas!" he shouted to a sergeant who was on guard without the tent. "Conduct these gentlemen to the camp of Sir Ralph Hopton, for, methinks, rest and refreshment will not come amiss. Fare ye well."
With a salute we left the staff-officer's tent, and, under the guidance of the sergeant, we were taken to a spot where a triple Line of weather-worn tents and rough huts of boughs and bushes marked the temporary camp of the redoubtable Royalist.
Here we were hospitably received, for, though in common with most of the cavaliers, there was scarcely a gold piece to be found amongst a score of them, such was their devotion to His Majesty, both in personal service and gifts of money, they gave us plenty to eat and insisted on our going to sleep.
When I woke up I found, to my joy, Ralph Granville sitting at my side. A complete change of apparel and a serviceable equipment of armour and weapons were placed at our disposal, which, I afterwards learnt, were contributed from the joint store of this particular company.