"Who may they be?" asked Barecolt, in a solemn tone; "If there be but seven we shall have no need of any men; I will go alone. Who may they be?" "Why, there's that Captain Batten, whom my lord took away prisoner, I hear," replied Hurst; "then there's a Dr. Bostwick, a parliamentary committee man; then there's old Dry, of Longsoaken, who dragged away the girl while you were all fighting at the bridge; the other four are, I hear, common councilmen of Coventry, though they are all decked out in buff and bandolier, as if they were fire-eating soldiers just come from the wars. They were laying a plan before they went to bed for bringing troops from Coventry round about my lord and his men, while two regiments of Essex's, that are marching into the north, were to have warning, and cut off the retreat." "Ha! ha! ha!" cried Captain Barecolt, "we will cut off theirs. Have you got a horse, master yeoman? I think yours was killed in the field." "Ay, that it was," answered Hurst, "to my loss and sorrow; as good a beast as ever was crossed, and cost me twenty pound." "We will mount you, we will mount you," said the captain; "there are a dozen and more good horses which forgot their riders yesterday, and left them lying by the bridge. We may as well have half-a-dozen men with us, however, just to tie the prisoners, for that is not work for gentlemen; so you sit down and take a glass of ale, and I will get all things ready." In the course of about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, Captain Barecolt had called to his aid eight men of the troop whom he could most depend upon; and after having brought down Major Randal's cornet to take his post during his absence, and mounted good John Hurst on the horse of a trooper who had been killed the day before, he led the way out of the little town, and, guided by the yeoman across the country, advanced slowly towards another village situated in the plain, about five or six miles from that in which they had taken up their quarters. The country was open, without woods or hedges, but the night was profoundly dark, and the wind sighing in long gusts over the open fields. Nothing was to be seen except the glimmer of a piece of water here and there, till they approached the village to which their steps were bent, when one or two lights became visible amongst the houses, as if, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, all the inhabitants had not yet retired to rest. One of these lights, too, as if proceeding from a lantern, appeared moving about in the gardens; and Captain Barecolt, turning to Hurst, asked him, in a low voice-- "What is the meaning of those lights?" "I don't know," answered the yeoman. "It was all dark when I crept away." "We shall soon see," rejoined Barecolt. "You are sure there are no troops in the place?" "There were none when I left it," replied Hurst; but, almost as he spoke, a loud voice exclaimed-- "Stand! Who goes there?" "A friend," answered Barecolt.