Fighting under such faith, no wonder the _lex talionis_ soon displayed itself on both sides, and in bitterest, most relentless form. Not only had the main routes of travel become unsafe, but sequestered country roads; while the sanctity of private houses was invaded, and women subjected to insult, oft even to the disregarding of their honour. This was conspicuously the case in the districts where the Cavaliers had control, no decent woman daring to show herself abroad. Even high-born ladies feared encountering them, if having father or brother on the Parliamentary side. Some dames, however, who favoured their side, were bold and free enough with them; and a very incarnation of female shamelessness was the strumpet following of Rupert. As known, Ambrose Powell had at first thought of fortifying Hollymead, and holding it with his servants, retainers, and such of the Foresters as he could rally around him; of whom he had reason to believe many would respond to his call. The _haw-haw_ around the house was suggestive of his doing so--itself an outer line of defence, which could be easily strengthened. It but needed a parapet of _gabions_, or _fascines_, to render it unassailable, save in the face of a scathing fire. And he had the wherewith to deliver this, having long expected the coming storm, and stored up materials to meet it. One of the chambers of Hollymead House was a very armoury and ordnance room, full of the best weapons of the time, which his great wealth had enabled him to provide--muskets of the _snap-hans_ fire, pistols, pikes, and halberds. They but wanted putting into hands capable of making efficient use of them. And he himself had but waited for Sir Richard Walwyn's advice, as to whether he should attempt holding Hollymead, or abandon it. He knew he must do one or the other. His partisanship, long since proclaimed and known beyond the borders of the Forest, with the echoes returning, so admonished him. "Could it be held, think you?" he asked of the soldier knight, on the evening of his arrival with Eustace Trevor--Sir Richard and his host alone closeted in conversation. "Impossible!" was the answer, backed up by convincing reasons. "Were it a structure of stone, I might say Yes, easily enough; with a force numerous enough to garrison it. But those wooden beams, and roofs dry as tinder--they'd be set ablaze by the first arrow sent at them." The reader may fancy Sir Richard's allusion to arrows was a figure of speech, or anachronism. It was neither. For this primitive weapon, almost universal among savage men, was not then obsolete, or out of the hands of the civilised. In the army of Essex--the Lord General himself--was a corps of bowmen; and others elsewhere. The belief in the bent yew stick and feathered shaft, that had gained for England such renown at Cressy and Agincourt, was still strong in the days of her more glorious struggle--the Great Rebellion.