"Farewell, Mr. Crosby. I wish you could have remained with us." "And I wish that you had never been persuaded to try so mad a venture," said Crosby. "The issue lies still in the balance," Grey returned. So Gilbert Crosby rode away from Bridgwater, and the mist was thick over Sedgemoor. CHAPTER VIII SEDGEMOOR AND AFTERWARDS Lentfield Manor, on the borders of Dorsetshire, was a square house set against a background of woods, with an expanse of park land in front of it. There was no particular beauty about it; indeed, it had a dreary look, and evidences of economy were not wanting. Thomas Crosby, never at any time to be reckoned a wealthy man, had expended much in the cause of the Parliament, and had left his son Gilbert a comparatively poor man. Within, the house was spacious and comfortable, with many a hiding-place in it which had been turned to account before now, and, if the furniture had grown shabby and showed its age unmistakably, Gilbert had become so accustomed to it that he hardly noticed its deficiencies. Lenfield was the home he loved, and this fact touched it, and everything in it and about it, with magical colours. Lately he had had visions of a fair woman descending the low, broad stairs, smiling at him as she came; in fancy he had seen her flitting from room to room, filling them with laughter and sunshine. So much power had a length of white ribbon which had once belonged to such a woman. Crosby returned to Lenfield by many by-roads, more careful, even, than he had been when riding towards Bridgwater. Once he had turned aside to avoid a band of militiamen, for he had no desire to be questioned. This insurrection in the West would bring suspicion on many an innocent person, and Thomas Crosby had been so well known a Puritan that it would be well for his son to be found at home when he was inquired for. If King James persisted in his struggle for popery, there was a much greater rebellion than Monmouth's to come, infinitely more far-reaching. In that outburst Gilbert Crosby intended to play his part, but until then he would safeguard himself as much as possible. There would be refugees from Monmouth's ragged army presently, he must help them if he could, but he would play no part in active rebellion. An old man, who had been servant to the Crosbys when Gilbert was born, met him in the hall. "I've been anxious, Master Gilbert," he said, "very anxious indeed, and the Lord be praised that you've returned in safety. I began to fear you might have ridden West to join Monmouth." "Why should you think that, Golding?" "When one is anxious one thinks of all the worst things that could possibly happen." "It seems that they fight in a good cause, Golding." "Don't let a soul hear you say so, Master Gilbert. They've arrested two hundred or more in London already, honest merchants many of them, and they say the gaol at Oxford is full of prisoners. No Puritan is really safe in these days."