e are in Taunton town.'

Even Master Joshua saw that the matter was too pressing to permit of
any spiritual exercises. The wounded men were lifted into the waggon and
laid upon the bedding, while our dead were placed in the cart which had
defended our rear. The peasants who owned these, far from making any
objection to this disposal of their property, assisted us in every way,
tightening girths and buckling traces. Within an hour of the ending of
the skirmish we found ourselves pursuing our way once more, and looking
back through the twilight at the scattered black dots upon the white
road, where the bodies of the dragoons marked the scene of our victory.

Chapter XVI. Of our Coming to Taunton

The purple shadows of evening had fallen over the countryside, and the
sun had sunk behind the distant Quantock and Brendon Hills, as our rude
column of rustic infantry plodded through Curry Rivell, Wrantage, and
Henlade. At every wayside cottage and red-tiled farmhouse the people
swarmed out us we passed, with jugs full of milk or beer, shaking hands
with our yokels, and pressing food and drink upon them. In the little
villages old and young came buzzing to greet us, and cheered long and
loud for King Monmouth and the Protestant cause. The stay-at-homes were
mostly elderly folks and children, but here and there a young labourer,
whom hesitation or duties had kept back, was so carried away by our
martial appearance, and by the visible trophies of our victory, that he
snatched up a weapon and joined our ranks.

The skirmish had reduced our numbers, but it had done much to turn our
rabble of peasants into a real military force. The leadership of Saxon,
and his stern, short words of praise or of censure had done even more.
The men kept some sort of formation, and stepped together briskly in a
compact body. The old soldier and I rode at the head of the column, with
Master Pettigrue still walking between us. Then came the cartful of
our dead, whom we were carrying with us to insure their decent burial.
Behind this walked two score of scythe and sickle men, with their rude
weapons over their shoulders, preceding the waggon in which the wounded
were carried. This was followed by the main body of the peasants,
and the rear was brought up by ten or twelve men under the command of
Lockarby and Sir Gervas, mounted upon captured chargers, and wearing the
breastplates, swords, and carbines of the dragoons.

I observed that Saxon rod