No more did the other pair get engaged. Rupert had but his second pistol, which, being discharged at Eustace Trevor, fortunately without effect, left him weaponless; and, seeing all his escort in retreat, he turned tail too, soon disappearing amid the ruck. The route now complete, with the scarlet coats it was _sauve qui peut_; with the green ones only a question of cutting down the panic-stricken fugitives, or making prisoner those who cried "Quarter!" And most cried that--shouted it to the utmost strength of their lungs. On went the victorious Foresters along the flooded way, alternately sabreing and capturing--the big sergeant and Hubert doing their full share of both--on till they came to a party of captives they had not taken. Nor guarded these; their late guards having been too glad to get away, leaving them to themselves. "Sabrina!" "Richard?"--"Vaga!" "Eustace?" Four names, pronounced in joyous exclamation amid the din, and by four distinct voices; all with the epithet "dear" conjoined. Not another word then, not another moment there; for the pursuit must be continued. The capture of Prince Rupert would be a thing of consequence, independent of all private feelings; and Sir Richard longed to settle scores with Lunsford. So on went he, and his, in chase of the now scattered escort. But not again to come up with the pair of profligates. The stoppage, short as it was, had given them time to make Framilode Ferry; where, leaping from their horses, and into a light boat, they were out of sword's reach, and range of bullet, before the pursuers could close upon them. Still within earshot of angry speech, however, hurled after them by the triumphant Foresters, with many a taunt, many the vile epithet bestowed. A degradation deserved; and other men than they would have felt its sting and shame. But not this scion of Royalty, toast, type, and model of Cavalierism. Happy at having escaped with a whole skin, he but laughed back, rejoicing in the life still left him for future crimes to be committed. And many the one was he afterwards guilty of; though short from that time was his rule in the city of Bristol. Once again, and soon, was it enfiladed by an armed force, not for siege or leaguer, but instant assault. For the man who commanded was he who, later on, gave laws to all England, gave her the only glimpse of real liberty she has ever enjoyed--the only gleam of true glory. When Cromwell stood before Bristol's gates, and said "Surrender!" it was in no tone of doubting requisition, but stern demand. The son of Elector Palatinate, hearing it hastened to comply, but too glad to get terms for his life.