“There’ll be fewer ere night,” Frank replied. “Sure, we’ll scarce give battle so late in the day?” “There’s time enough ’twixt now and sundown to trounce them roundly,” Frank answered cheerfully. “Come, let us go down and seek our people.” They had gone barely a rod along the brow of the hill, when right behind them, deadened till now by the yielding turf, sounded the galloping of a horse. Glancing over his shoulder, Hugh got sight of a rider spurring in their steps with no evident intention of swerving, so he caught Frank by the arm and jerked him to one side, none too soon, for the horse’s nose almost grazed the boy’s shoulder. “Look how you ride!” Hugh shouted angrily. The horseman never deigned to look at him, but, with his dark face set to the front and the ends of his scarlet sash fluttering, shot by and disappeared down the hillside. “Curse him!” Frank sputtered, “’twas a coward’s trick; ’twas like him.” “Like who?” “’Tis Philip Bellasis, a son of my Lord Bellasis. I pray his comb be cut some fine morning.” “The Lord Bellasis who is of the king’s council?” Hugh asked, as they tramped along the hilltop, with ears alert now for more reckless riders behind them. “Ay, a scurvy civilian,” Frank said, with extra swagger; “we of the army have no love for them nor they for us. Why, his influence came near losing my father his independent command. He would have lumped us in with my Lord Carnavon’s horse. Well, we’ll show to-day who’ll save the kingdom, meddling lawyers like Bellasis or soldiers like ourselves.” Then conversation ceased, for reaching a gully in the hillside they gave all their thoughts to descending it, and slipped and scuffled in the dry bed till Frank had wrenched his ankle and Hugh had a torn coat-sleeve to his credit. The gully ending in a small stream, they followed it down through a copse of bare bushes that snapped against the face, and so came out upon the open plain. Not an eighth of a mile distant, sitting ready with their backpieces gleaming and their carabines slung across their shoulders, they could see the ranks of horsemen. In the open betwixt the boys and the ordered troops messengers were spurring to and fro, and now and again, in small groups or man by man, stray horsemen straggled by. One such they came upon by the brook, as he was patching a broken girth, and Hugh, pausing to lend his aid, asked him what news there was in the field. “Why does not the battle begin at once?” Frank urged, and, when the man answered the troops were but waiting the word to fall on, he caught Hugh’s arm and bade him come forward quickly to seek their regiment. At that the trooper struck in: “Best keep out o’ the press, sir. You’ll be trampled to pieces there with small good to the king or to yourself. Better bear off to the northward out of harm’s way.” “But I am here solely to get in harm’s way,” Frank protested; and, when Hugh, taking the advice, made for a log bridge to cross the stream, followed grumblingly.