The farmer was a practical man, so he just swore a good round English oath, and then he got to business.
“Ho, there! Will Leatherbarrow, do thou slip for my good grey mare down to John the smith’s, get aback, and ride for thy life on their trail. Send word by any messengers thou canst catch from time to time, how they fare. And thou, Hob, cross the fields, and set the great bell at Mottram Church a-ringing, and the rest of you scatter and bring out the archers and the men who can fight. Cease thy chatter, good dame, and see if thou canst scrape me a good meal together ’fore I set about paying my debt to the Scottish laird.”
In a little while the great bell at Mottram Church was clanging out its wild alarm, and from the woods and fields about, and the distant farms, the stout yeomen were hurrying into the town, bringing with them their bows and bills, their swords and axes, and their horses all ready for the chase. For they had ridden on the track of the raiders before.
As the men mustered round the cross near the church, a horseman galloped into the throng, the flanks of his steed white with foam. It was the first messenger from Will Leatherbarrow, who hung like a sleuthhound on the trail.
“They have e’en ta’en the Kings’ high road,” he shouted, “and they ride for the hills.”
“They will turn off at the bend before they reach Glossop town,” said Jock, the steward’s son, who now sat his horse at the farmer’s side. “I know a short cut, and we may head them off. Do you, Farmer Andrew, ride on the trail, and I will lead a band to get before them. Then not a man of them shall escape.”
“To horse!” cried the yeoman, curtly assenting. And in another moment the spurs were driven deep, and the men of Longdendale were hard on the track of the foe.
Grim men were they when the scent of war was in the air. Men who had learned the use of the bow from their cradle. For did not the men of Longdendale help to scatter the French at Cressy and Agincourt, and did they not in later days join in the annihilation of the Scotch at the fight of Flodden Field? On they rode, and as they went, their number was swollen by fresh recruits, and so they galloped till near the sundown.
“The pace tells on the beasts,” said one man at length.