“Not a word to him, as you live,” said the Knight; “this may be an outlawry, as they call it, for what I know; and therefore I will bring no lands or tenements into peril, saving mine own. Sir Jasper hath had a troublesome time of it for many a year. By my will, he shall sit quiet for the rest of’s days.” CHAPTER VII _Fang._--A rescue! a rescue! _Mrs. Quickly._--Good people, bring a rescue or two. --Henry IV. _Part I._ The followers of Peveril were so well accustomed to the sound of “Boot and Saddle,” that they were soon mounted and in order; and in all the form, and with some of the dignity of danger, proceeded to escort the Countess of Derby through the hilly and desert tract of country which connects the frontier of the shire with the neighbouring county of Cheshire. The cavalcade moved with considerable precaution, which they had been taught by the discipline of the Civil Wars. One wary and well-mounted trooper rode about two hundred yards in advance; followed, at about half that distance, by two more, with their carabines advanced, as if ready for action. About one hundred yards behind the advance, came the main body; where the Countess of Derby, mounted on Lady Peveril’s ambling palfrey (for her own had been exhausted by the journey from London to Martindale Castle), accompanied by one groom, of approved fidelity, and one waiting-maid, was attended and guarded by the Knight of the Peak, and three files of good and practised horsemen. In the rear came Whitaker, with Lance Outram, as men of especial trust, to whom the covering the retreat was confided. They rode, as the Spanish proverb expresses it, “with the beard on the shoulder,” looking around, that is, from time to time, and using every precaution to have the speediest knowledge of any pursuit which might take place. But, however wise in discipline, Peveril and his followers were somewhat remiss in civil policy. The Knight had communicated to Whitaker, though without any apparent necessity, the precise nature of their present expedition; and Whitaker was equally communicative to his comrade Lance, the keeper. “It is strange enough, Master Whitaker,” said the latter, when he had heard the case, “and I wish you, being a wise man, would expound it;--why, when we have been wishing for the King--and praying for the King--and fighting for the King--and dying for the King, for these twenty years, the first thing we find to do on his return, is to get into harness to resist his warrant?” “Pooh! you silly fellow,” said Whitaker, “that is all you know of the true bottom of our quarrel! Why, man, we fought for the King’s person against his warrant, all along from the very beginning; for I remember the rogues’ proclamations, and so forth, always ran in the name of the King and Parliament.”