"Your honour needn't alarm yourself about me," replied Erick, in a wheedling voice, which, however, did not produce the desired effect. "I know how to take care of myself. If I get leave to go I'll take Helen Carnegie with me, and Rollo, the drummer."
Again the colonel shook his head.
"No, no, you mustn't think of it, Erick," he cried. "Go to your quarters, and don't stir out again to-night."
Sergeant Dickson retired, resolved to disobey orders, feeling certain the offence would be overlooked if he proved successful.
He therefore set out from Preston in good time next morning, accompanied by Helen and Rollo.
We left them riding towards Salford Bridge, and when they were within fifty yards of it, they came to a halt, and Rollo began to beat the drum vigorously. The din soon brought a great number of persons round them, who began to shout lustily, when the sergeant, judging the fitting moment had arrived to commence operations, silenced the drum, and doffing his plumed cap—his example being followed by his companions—called out in a loud voice, "God save King James the Third!"
Some cheers followed, but they were overpowered by angry outcries, and several voices exclaimed, "Down with the rebels!"
Judging from these menacing expressions that he was likely to be assailed, Erick, whose masculine visage had begun to assume a very formidable expression, placed himself in front of Helen so as to shield her from attack, and then hastily putting on his target, and getting his blunderbuss ready for immediate use, he glared fiercely round at the assemblage, roaring out:
"Keep off!—if ye wadna ha' the contents of this among ye."
Alarmed by his looks and gestures, the concourse held back; but only for a few moments. Some of them tried to lay hands on Helen, but they were baffled by the rapidity with which the sergeant wheeled round, dashing them back, and upsetting half-a-dozen of them.