I think, as we sat our horses in the rain, the holly-bush not
being large enough to shelter us all, we were as sorry a band as
ever set out to rescue a lady; nor was it without pain that I
looked round and saw myself reduced to command such people.
There was scarcely one whole unpatched garment among us, and
three of my squires had but a spur apiece. To make up for this
deficiency we mustered two black eyes, Fresnoy's included, and a
broken nose. Matthew's nag lacked a tail, and, more remarkable
still, its rider, as I presently discovered, was stone-deaf;
while Mark's sword was innocent of a scabbard, and his bridle was
plain rope. One thing, indeed, I observed with pleasure. The
two men who had come with me looked askance at the two who had
come with Fresnoy, and these returned the stare with interest.
On this division and on the length of my sword I based all my
hopes of safety and of something more. On it I was about to
stake, not my own life only--which was no great thing, seeing
what my prospects were--but the life and honour of a woman,
young, helpless, and as yet unknown to me.

Weighed down as I was by these considerations, I had to bear the
additional burden of hiding my fears and suspicions under a
cheerful demeanour. I made a short speech to my following, who
one and all responded by swearing to stand by me to the death. I
then gave the word, and we started, Fresnoy and I leading the
way, Luke and John with the led horses following, and the other
two bringing up the rear.

The rain continuing to fall and the country in this part being
dreary and monotonous, even in fair weather, I felt my spirits
sink still lower as the day advanced. The responsibility I was