Unconsciously, at this moment, the page had spurred his steed, which plunged furiously. Like lightning, a slender arm reached over the proud mane--grasped the bridle--and in a moment, he was quiet as before. The strength of a giant horseman, could not have so tamed him. In the suddenness of the motion, the plumed beaver of the rider had fallen, and like some young and beautiful spirit of power, with dark ringlets, curling over a brow of glistening thought and love, and as if quelling the furious tempest, the page leaned forward, on his steed. “Nay, nay,” said the earl, “spur on, and let us not delay to meet the foe.” The gallant army marched on rapidly, and in a few minutes, as the sun streamed from the eastern clouds, the rays fell upon Wigan, seen in the distance. Only one sound was borne to the ear, and it was the trampling of horses. “They come,” was the general cry. “On, on,” exclaimed their leader, “let Charles’s banner be unfurled, and soon we shall plant it, to wave over the church tower!” A few minutes more brought them to the entrance of the town. A strong hedge skirted both sides of the road. The windings were many and abrupt, and the sharp angular view, was over the rocky heights on the banks of the Douglas, and almost suggested the appearance of traitors, so unexpectedly were many of the scenes brought before them. The scenery of the country around, was wild, and marked that here, war would not be out of keeping. Young Tyldesley took his uncle’s hand, to bid him farewell, for now the impression rested on every mind, that from the unusual stillness, the stern sounds of combat might soon be heard. Silence seemed to be the soft whispers of a traitor! secret, but sure. A tear stole down the hardy cheek of the veteran, as he blessed his companion. “This parting,” he added, “seems ominous. ’Twas thus your gallant father bade me adieu, for the last time. Yet, Harry, another grasp of your hand. Farewell, my brave boy.” They rode on without exchanging another word, when the young soldier felt himself gently touched, and, on turning round, beheld the page, who, with averted face, said--“Excuse me, but farewell, Harry Tyldesley, should I see you no more.” “We part not thus, for your mistres’s sake. Ride by my side, and you may command this arm to strike for your safety.” At this moment the small army heard some half-concealed movement made, behind the hedges, and instantly a close fire of musketry;--only a few were wounded. “The foe are in ambush!” exclaimed Sir Thomas. “Nay,” replied the earl, “the greater part are before us,” pointing to a large army which now appeared. “Let us advance. Sir Thomas, take the half of the band, and I shall lead the others. Let a halt be sounded. We can do nothing against those who fire from the hedges. Let us cut through the main body.--A halt!”