At the Windmill battery, where Wynn's and Pitt's regiments were posted, so as completely to block up the Lancaster-road, and prevent all chance of escape in that direction, the brave Clan Chattan were gathered—most of them lying on the ground, but ready to spring to their feet on the slightest alarm.
The barrier commanded by Lord Charles Murray was likewise strongly guarded, and by a vigilant force—this being a position exposed to much peril.
As to the Fishergate barricade, it was better watched by the defenders than by the enemy.
Strange to say, the outlet connected with this battery, and which led to a lane communicating with a ford over the Ribble, was not blocked up like the other avenues.
Three squadrons of horse belonging to Brigadier Pitt were posted at intervals in the fields on the north side of the river—Pitt's own quarters being fixed at a large farmhouse on the rise of the hill—but the lane we have mentioned had been left unguarded.
This unaccountable piece of negligence had been accidentally discovered by Captain Douglas, while reconnoitring the road. Still, he had not ventured more than a quarter of a mile.
Midnight had just tolled, and the besieged town presented the appearance we have endeavoured to describe, when the Countess of Derwentwater embraced her lord, and with his aid mounted the steed that was waiting for her outside the Fishergate barrier.
“Farewell, my best beloved!” cried the earl. “Farewell! it may be for ever. To-morrow will decide my fate. Should the worst happen, be sure my last thought will be of you.”
“Farewell, my dearest lord!” she cried. “I will not say for ever! for I am certain we shall meet again!”
Dorothy was already on horseback, and beside her was Charles Radclyffe, who was resolved to see them safely across the ford.