'Victory?' he repeated, in his slow way--'what victory? Give me a drink of cider, and if there is a morsel of victual in the house----' I hurried to bring him both cold meat and bread and a cup full of cider. He began to eat and drink. 'Why,' he said, talking between his mouthfuls, 'if the worst comes 'tis better to face it with a----Your health, Madam': he finished the cider. 'Another cup, Sister, if you love me: I have neither eaten nor drunk since yesterday at seven o'clock, or thereabouts.' He said no more until he had cleared the dish of the gammon and left nothing but the bone. This he dropped into his pocket. 'When the provisions are out,' he said wisely, 'there is good gnawing in the shankbone of a ham.' Then he drank up the rest of the cider and looked around. 'Victory? Did someone speak of victory?' 'Yes--where was it? Tell us quick!' 'Well, there was in some sort a victory. But the King had it.' 'What mean you, Barnaby? The King had it?--what King?' 'Not King Monmouth. That King is riding away to find some port and get some ship, I take it, which will carry him back to Holland.' 'Barnaby, what is it? Oh! what is it? Tell us all.' 'All there is to tell, Sister, is that our army is clean cut to pieces, and that those who are not killed or prisoners are making off with what speed they may. As for me, I should have thrown away my coat and picked up some old duds and got off to Bristol and so aboard ship and away, but for Dad.' 'Barnaby,' cried my mother, 'what hath happened to him? Where is he?' 'I said, mother,' he replied very slowly, and looking in her face strangely, 'that I would look after him, didn't I? Well, when we marched out of Bridgwater at nightfall nothing would serve but he must go too. I think he compared himself with Moses who stood afar off and held up his arms. Never was there any man more eager to get at the enemy than Dad. If he had not been a minister, what a soldier he would have made!' 'Go on--quick, Barnaby.' 'I can go, Sister, no quicker than I can. That is quite sure.' 'Where is he, my son?' asked my mother. Barnaby jerked his thumb over his left shoulder. 'He is over there, and he is safe enough for the present. Well, after the battle was over, and it was no use going on any longer, Monmouth and Lord Grey having already run away----' 'Run away? Run away?' 'Run away, Sister. Aboard ship the Captain stands by the crew to the last, and, if they strike, he is prisoner with them. Ashore, the General runs away and leaves his men to find out when they will give over fighting. We fought until there was no more ammunition, and then we ran with the rest. Now, I had not gone far before I saw lying on the moor at my very feet the poor old Dad.' 'Oh!'