He was well dressed (a yeoman farmer by the look of him), and wore riding boots with spurs. Thus it was clear he had been riding when death overtook him. What, then? How came he thus? Where was his horse? These questions were full quickly answered; for barely had I put them to myself when from behind there came the sound of thudding hoofs, and, starting round, I saw Tubal Ammon galloping towards me on a long-legged, bony beast.

This made things clear indeed; yea, verily, I understood it all as in a flash. Keeping far ahead of us throughout the morning, running when we walked (though ever making sure of our direction), the miscreant had reached this lonely spot before us, had met this poor old man and slain him for his horse, and, having hidden it, had lurked about in hope of falling me as well by stealth. This having failed, he now pursued me on his blood-bought steed, intent on further mischief.

As this rushed through my mind, I, too, rushed through the air, and such a wild, mad race began as never was. Kitty knew little of the spur, but now I used it on her without knowing that I did so. Heavens, how we flew! The pace we made was such as beggars words. The ugly brute behind, for all his great long legs and furious speed, gained not a yard upon us, for what advantage he possessed in length of limb my mare outwitted by her lightness and agility.

Mile after mile we had covered in this headlong, reckless fashion, when suddenly a shrill cry reached me, and glancing back, I saw that Tubal Ammon's horse was down, while he himself had been shot yards in front of it.

Perceiving this, I stopped to look. Perchance the luckless beast had stumbled in a rabbit burrow, while, by the way its head dropped back when Ammon pulled upon it with the bridle, I judged it to be either broken-necked or broken-hearted. And doubtless its rider shared the same opinion, for, after divers vicious tugs and kicks he dropped the reins, and, turning, shook a fist at me. I answered in like fashion, then trotted on my way.

And here it seems to me that you may well be wondering why, in the name of fortune, I did not instead ride back and try to kill the wicked wretch whose death I so much coveted. But verily, my friends, the chances were not what, to you, they may appear to have been; nay, rather were they all against me. For, look you, thick cover lay on every side, and long ere I could have come up with him, friend Tubal would have darted into hiding; while, having just most providentially escaped from death, I had no mind to seek for it again.

So I pressed on towards Exeter, whose grey cathedral towers were even then just visible, far off, against the glowing sky. But, feeling safe from that which lay behind, I did not hurry, for Kitty's state was truly piteous. Her flanks were streaming, while the foam dripped from her mouth. Thus I walked and trotted her by turns, and the sun was nearly down when at last we clattered noisily along the ancient city's streets.

Here was mighty bustle and excitement, with no little fear mixed up therewith. The streets were all alive with eager, anxious crowds, and many, taking me to be a special messenger bearing news of Monmouth, tried to stop and question me; but, turning a deaf ear to them, I cantered on to Albemarle's head-quarters.

I found him seated at wine in company with divers gay-dressed cavaliers, who, by the look of them, thought more of drinking than of fighting. At first they were inclined to flout me; but, verily, a sturdy, well-armed, six-foot stripling of eighteen, with his wits about him, is something of a match for such as they. I tossed them back their gibes with interest, and when 'twas found that I came straight from Lyme, they changed their tune and pestered me with questions, which I answered coldly.

"And so you come to join us, eh, young man?" said Albemarle, when I was sick of being catechized.