they formed a lively spectacle as they rode along the high ground in
marching order, backed by the pale blue sky, and lit by the
southerly sun. Their uniform was bright and attractive; white
buckskin pantaloons, three-quarter boots, scarlet shakos set off
with lace, mustachios waxed to a needle point; and above all, those
richly ornamented blue jackets mantled with the historic pelisse--
that fascination to women, and encumbrance to the wearers
themselves.

''Tis the York Hussars!' said Simon Burden, brightening like a dying
ember fanned. 'Foreigners to a man, and enrolled long since my
time. But as good hearty comrades, they say, as you'll find in the
King's service.'

'Here are more and different ones,' said Mrs. Garland.

Other troops had, during the last few minutes, been ascending the
down at a remoter point, and now drew near. These were of different
weight and build from the others; lighter men, in helmet hats, with
white plumes.

'I don't know which I like best,' said Anne. 'These, I think, after
all.'

Simon, who had been looking hard at the latter, now said that they
were the --th Dragoons.

'All Englishmen they,' said the old man. 'They lay at Budmouth
barracks a few years ago.'