)

1. The incident is historically true, and may serve to show what sort of
men they were who had learned their soldiering under Cromwell.

Chapter XXXIII. Of my Perilous Adventure at the Mill

At the base of the mill there stood a shed which was evidently used to
stall the horses which brought the farmers' grain. Some grass was heaped
up inside it, so I loosened Covenant's girths and left him to have a
hearty meal. The mill itself appeared to be silent and empty. I climbed
the steep wood ladder, and pushing the door open, walked into a round
stone-flagged room, from which a second ladder led to the loft above. On
one side of this chamber was a long wooden box, and all round the walls
were ranged rows of sacks full of flour. In the fireplace stood a pile
of faggots ready for lighting, so with the aid of my tinder-box I soon
had a cheerful blaze. Taking a large handful of flour from the nearest
bag I moistened it with water from a pitcher, and having rolled it out
into a flat cake, proceeded to bake it, smiling the while to think of
what my mother would say to such rough cookery. Very sure I am that
Patrick Lamb himself, whose book, the 'Complete Court Cook,' was ever in
the dear soul's left hand while she stirred and basted with her right,
could not have turned out a dish which was more to my taste at the
moment, for I had not even patience to wait for the browning of it, but
snapped it up and devoured it half hot. I then rolled a second one, and
having placed it before the fire, and drawn my pipe from my pocket,
I set myself to smoke, waiting with all the philosophy which I could
muster until it should be ready.

I was lost in thought, brooding sadly over the blow which the news would
be to my father, when I was startled by a loud sneeze, which sounded as
though it were delivered in my very ear. I started to my feet and gazed
all round me, but there was nothing save the solid wall behind and the
empty chamber before. I had almost come to persuade myself that I had
been the creature of some delusion, when again a crashing sneeze, louder
and more prolonged than the last, broke upon the silence. Could some one
be hid in one of the bags? Drawing my sword I walked round pricking the
great flour sacks, but without being able to find cause for the sound. I
was still marvelling over the matter when a most extraordinary chorus of
gasps, snorts, and whistles broke out, with cries of 'Oh, holy mother!'
'Blessed Redeemer!'