At Launceston, Billy Pottery took leave of us: and now went, due south, toward Looe, with a light purse and lighter heart, undertaking that his ship should lie off Gleys, with her crew ready for action, within eight-and-forty hours. Delia and I rode faster now toward the southwest: and having by this time recover’d my temper, I was recounting my flight along this very road, when I heard a sound that brought my heart into my mouth. ’Twas the blast of a bugle, and came from behind the hill in front of us. And at the same moment I understood. It must be Sir George Chudleigh’s cavalry returning, on news of their comrades’ defeat, and we were riding straight toward them, as into a trap. Now what could have made me forgetful of this danger I cannot explain, unless it be that our thorough victory over the rebels had given me the notion that the country behind us was clear of foes. And Sir Bevill must have had a notion we were going straight to Looe with Billy. At any rate, there was no time to be lost: for my presence was a danger to Delia as well. I cast a glance about me. There was no place to hide. “Quick!” I cried; “follow me, and ride for dear life!” And striking spur into Molly I turn’d sharp off the road and gallop’d across the moor to the left, with Delia close after me. We had gone about two hundred yards only when I heard a shout, and glancing over my right shoulder, saw a green banner waving on the crest of the road, and gathered about it the vanguard of the troop—some score of dragoons: and these, having caught sight of us, were pausing a moment to watch. The shout presently was followed by another; to which I made no answer, but held on my way, with the nose of Delia’s horse now level with my stirrup: for I guess’d that my dress had already betrayed us. And this was the case; for at the next glance I saw five or six dragoons detach themselves from the main body, and gallop in a direction at an acute angle to ours. On they came, yelling to us to halt, and scattering over the moor to intercept us. Not choosing, however, to be driven eastward, I kept a straight course and trusted to our horses’ fleetness to carry us by them, out of reach of their shot. In the pause of their first surprise we had stolen two hundred yards more. I counted and found eight men thus in pursuit of us: and to my joy heard the bugle blown again, and saw the rest of the troop, now gathering fast above, move steadily along the road without intention to follow. Doubtless the news of the Cornish success made them thus wary of their good order. [Illustration: two arrows] Still, eight men were enough to run from; and now the nearest let fly with his piece—more to frighten us, belike, than with any other view, for we were far out of range. But it grew clear that if we held on our direction they must cut us off: as you may see by these two arrows, the long thin one standing for our own course, the thicker and shorter for that of the dragoons.