From thence I saw friend Ferguson speak hurriedly to four rough, evil-looking men, the while he pointed at me; I saw them nod and rub their chins; I saw them move away. Then someone touched me on the shoulder and a voice said in my ear: "Fool! Why run this risk? Was not last night enough?" Turning, I found Dan Foe behind me. "Ah, you!" said I. "What now?" "What now!" he echoed sharply. "Why, this. I have seen everything, and they will surely have you by the heels unless you run for it at once." There seemed to be some truth in that, and I was more than half inclined to act upon his seasonable warning, when a horseman clattered up behind us and forced his way into the crowd, crying: "Make way! Make way!" ’Twas Fletcher of Saltoun, and the steed he rode was such as made one break the tenth commandment. Indeed, I never saw a finer horse. The crowd fell back on either side to let him pass, and he was making straight towards the standard, when Old Dare of Taunton stepped out suddenly and seized the bridle. "How now!" said he. "How came you by that horse?" [Illustration: "HOW NOW! HOW CAME YOU BY THAT HORSE?"] "I took it from its stable at the ’George’," replied the other. "Then know that it is mine, and take it back," rejoined Old Dare with heat. "Nay, friend," said Fletcher calmly, "you err most grievously; for are not all things common to the Cause? Let go her head, I pray you." "Nay, but I will not," rejoined the old man stoutly. "No legs save mine have stridden her, nor shall they." "Ah! there you surely err again," laughed Fletcher, "for are not mine astride her at this very moment?" That angered Dare beyond endurance; putting forth all his strength he strove to turn the horse, while Fletcher, using rein and bridle, urged it forward. At this Old Dare went clean beside himself with rage; let go a string of oaths and curses terrible to hear; and, when the other mocked him, drew a riding-switch from out his boot and struck him full across the face. ’Twas a cruel, maddening blow, and, in an instant, Fletcher snatched a pistol from his saddle-bow and shot the old man dead. A moment’s gasping silence was followed by a ravening roar of voices, and verily the people would have torn young Fletcher limb from limb (for Dare was much beloved by Western folk) had not the Duke of Monmouth ridden up and saved his life by ordering him aboard the frigate as a prisoner. I did not wait to see the end of it, but, taking advantage of the turmoil, broke out from the crowd and made all speed for home. There I fell to making final preparations for the morrow, and midnight struck before I was abed. Soon after three I was astir again, and ere four was riding on my way to Exeter. The past few days had brought me many strange and perilous adventures; but these were as nothing when compared with those which lay before me in the unknown future. Should you doubt that statement, you have but to follow me to prove its truth.