head, and reverence the old man, and went on hastily, "But tell me,
Will, what do you hear of the battle?"

"The battle, sir! why, they say it is lost. That's what the fellow
there is preaching about."

"And where was it? Did you hear? Don't you know?"

"Don't be so hasty, don't ye, sir!" said the old slow-spoken man,
growing confused. "Where was it? At some town--some town, they
said, but I don't know rightly the name of it."

"And the King? Who was it? Not Cromwell? Had Lord Derby joined?"
cried Walter, hurrying on his questions so as to puzzle and confuse
the old man more and more, till at last he grew angry at getting no
explanation, and vowed it was no use to talk to such an old fool. At
that moment a sound as of feet and horses came along the road. "'Tis
the soldiers!" said Walter.

"Ay, sir, best get out of sight."

Walter thought so too, and, springing over a hedge, ran off into a
neighbouring wood, resolving to take a turn, and come back by the
longer way to the house, so as to avoid the road. He walked across
the wood, looking up at the ripening nuts, and now and then springing
up to reach one, telling himself all the time that it was untrue, and
that the King could not, and should not be defeated. The wood grew
less thick after a time, and ended in low brushwood, upon an open
common. Just as Walter was coming to this place, he saw an unusual
sight: a man and a horse crossing the down. Slowly and wearily they