country lad found me, and took me home. Is father coming, your
honour?"

"Ah! my poor little maid, your father will never come again," said
Sir Harry, sadly. "He went down by the mill stream. I saw him fall.
What is to be done for her?" he added, turning to a younger
gentleman, who rode by him, as the child stood as it were stunned for
a moment. "This is the worst of it all. Heaven knows we freely
sacrifice ourselves in the cause of Church and King, but it is hard
to sacrifice others. Here are these faithful servants, their home
broken up with ours, their children dying, and themselves killed--
she, by the brutes after Naseby, he, in this last skirmish. 'Tis
enough to break a man's heart. And what is to become of this poor
little maid?"

"Oh! I'll go with your honour," cried Emlyn, stretching out her
arms. "I can ride behind Dick, and I'll give no one any trouble.
Oh! take me, sir."

"It cannot be done, my poor child," said Sir Harry. "We have no
women with us now, and we have to make our way to Newark by forced
marches to His Majesty. I have no choice but to bestow you somewhere
till better times come. Hark you, my good lad, she says you found
her, and have been good to her. Would your mother take charge of
her? I'll leave what I can with you, and when matters are quiet, my
wife, or the child's kindred, will send after her. Will your father
and mother keep her for the present?"

"I have none," said Steadfast. "My father was killed in his own yard
by some soldiers who wanted to drive our cows. Mother had died