So I bade my men, if they were minded still to serve me, be ready and stand by for the first chance of escape.
It came soon enough. Bands of soldiers were coming in and going out of Knockfergus all the night long; and while we sat in the hostelry and watched them depart with longing eyes, like prisoners through a dungeon cage, I suddenly found myself calling myself a fool and starting to my feet.
“Follow me,” I cried to my men, and led them to where our horses stood, still saddled, in the stable.
“Mount,” I said, “and stay under the shadow of this wall, till you see me ride out. Then fall in quietly at my heels.”
Presently, as we stood there, came a noise of trumpets and a clatter of hoofs down the steep street. As they passed, we could see by the torches of those that marched beside them that this was a great company of foot and horse, dragging a gun or two with them. ’Twas more of a rabble than a troop; for the horses, frightened by the glare of the torches and the shouts of the footmen, reared and plunged, and scattered the townsfolk who had turned out to see them pass, right and left.
As they passed the corner where we lurked, some of the horses plunged in among us, and in the darkness all was confusion for a moment.
Then I quietly rode in among them with my five men at my heels, and so, unseen and unheeded, we joined the troop and passed the gate in safety into the black country beyond.
Once outside, ’twas easy enough to get clear. I bade my men lag behind all they could; till at last we must have dropped fifty yards or so, where, in the darkness, we were quite lost to view. Then I gave the order to gallop; and overtaking the company, as in hot haste, I rode up to the officer and saluted.
“A good journey to you, Captain,” said I. “’Twill be slower than ours, for the troop we are to join is already beyond the Bann, and we ride post-haste to overtake it.”
“You are of Merriman’s troop then?” said the officer.