They came to the place where Sir William’s company had fought; and the sun, gaining strength already to drive through the mists of last night’s thunderstorm, showed her the faces of many folk remembered, but not her husband’s. "I thank God," she said simply. Then, as she turned to retrace her steps, the inbred courtesy of the woman surmounted the pain that had gone before, the passionate thanksgiving that followed. "I thank you, too, for conduct through the lines. What is your name, that I may remember it in my prayers?" "At Ripley they would name me Noll Cromwell. I ask no thanks, and need none." It was all muddled and astounding, as the battle of last night had been. The man she had scolded not long ago at Ripley—the man whose soul she had whipped raw, though she did not guess it—had offered courtesy. For this hour, at any rate, Cromwell was a mystic, seeing with the clearer vision and knowing the kind lash of penance. Since this wild campaign began, drawing him from his quiet estate in Rutland, he had known no happiness till now. This woman had flouted him; yet he was glad, with an amazing gladness, to succour her in need. A man came running, and said that General Cromwell was needed in Tockwith village, where some trouble had broken out among his men. The mystic disappeared. The Cromwell of sheer flesh and blood showed himself. "Trouble, is there?" he snapped. "I’ve a short way with trouble of that sort. As for you, Lady Ingilby, the password is _Endeavour_, and I would recommend you to secure your retreat at once." With a half-defiant salute he was gone, and, as they came again to the place where the Whitecoats lay, a party of Roundhead horsemen, riding by, halted suddenly. "You are on the King’s side," said the leader, with a sharp glance at Christopher. "I am Captain Murray, at your service, of Leslie’s horse. I know you because you all but killed me in that last rally Rupert made. What, in the de’il’s name, are you doing here—and with a lady?" "We are under safe-conduct through the lines. Cromwell gave us the word _Endeavour_ not five minutes since." "Well, I need you, as it happens. There are many of your dead in Wilstrop Wood, and General Leslie has a soft heart—after the fight is done—like most Scotsmen. He sends me to find a King’s man who can name the dead. ’They have wives and bairns, nae doot,’ said Leslie in his dry way, ’and ill news is better than no news at a’, for those who bide at hame.’" Lady Ingilby was not sorry when her request to go with Kit was refused. After all, she had breakfasted on horrors and could take no further meal as yet. "If he is there, Christopher," she whispered, "you will take me. If you do not find him, well. Either way, there is the God above us."