han horse
would meet hardship. Therefore, seeing things to be bad, and his master
involved in trouble, what did this horse do but start for the ease and
comfort of Plover's Barrows, and the plentiful ration of oats abiding
in his own manger. For this I do not blame him. It is the manner of
mankind.

But I could not help being very uneasy at the thought of my mother's
discomfort and worry, when she should spy this good horse coming home,
without any master, or rider, and I almost hoped that he might be caught
(although he was worth at least twenty pounds) by some of the King's
troopers, rather than find his way home, and spread distress among
our people. Yet, knowing his nature, I doubted if any could catch, or
catching would keep him.

Jeremy Stickles assured me, as we took the road to Bridgwater, that the
only chance for my life (if I still refused to fly) was to obtain
an order forthwith, for my despatch to London, as a suspected person
indeed, but not found in open rebellion, and believed to be under the
patronage of the great Lord Jeffreys. 'For,' said he, 'in a few hours
time you would fall into the hands of Lord Feversham, who has won this
fight, without seeing it, and who has returned to bed again, to have his
breakfast more comfortably. Now he may not be quite so savage perhaps
as Colonel Kirke, nor find so much sport in gibbeting; but he is equally
pitiless, and his price no doubt would be higher.'

'I will pay no price whatever,' I answered, 'neither will I fly. An hour
agone I would have fled for the sake of my mother, and the farm. But
now that I have been taken prisoner, and my name is known, if I fly,
the farm is forfeited; and my mother and sister must starve. Moreover, I
have done no harm; I have borne no weapons against the King, nor desired
the success of his enemies. I like not that the son of a bona-roba
should be King of England; neither do I count the Papists any worse than
we are. If they have aught to try me for, I will stand my trial.'

'Then to London thou must go, my son. There is no such thing as trial
here: we hang the good folk without it, which saves them much anxiety.
But quicken thy step, good John; I have influence with Lord Churchill,
and we must contrive to see him, ere the foreigner falls to work again.
Lord Churchill is a man of sense, and imprisons nothing but his money.'

We were lucky enough to find this nobleman, who has since become so
famous by his foreign victories. He r