A burly dragoon rode between us, sternly checking any attempt at conversation, while the sergeant, who had possessed himself of my sword--the gift of the armourer at Newport--placed a couple of men, armed with petronels, immediately behind us, giving them orders to shoot us through the head at the first sign of an attempt to escape. This order was, I felt certain, given to the sergeant by Chaloner, who would have been only too glad to get us out of the way, knowing that we were acquainted with his past treachery, and also because he was aware of the fact that I was the son of Sir Reginald Markham, who still held Ashley, in spite of the Parliamentarian mandate bestowing it upon the renegade. Long before midday we had passed through Liskeard, where the inhabitants were manifestly in sympathy with us, though overawed by the menaces of Chaloner's troopers. About four miles beyond the town we came to the fork roads, where one road leads to Bodmin and the other to Lostwithiel, and hardly had we proceeded a hundred yards along the latter when two dragoons, who had been riding some distance ahead, came back at a gallop with the intelligence that a troop of malignant cavalry were drawn up beyond the brow of the hill. My spirits rose at the thought of a rescue, though, at the same time, it occurred to me that, should an affray take place, Chaloner would have no scruples in shooting us, and putting the blame on the bullets of our friends. The Roundheads lost no time in preparing to receive the threatened attack. The dragoons dismounted, one man in every three being told off to hold the reins of their comrades' horses. We were sent to the rear under guard, while the soldiers vigorously plied their swords, cutting down brushwood and small branches of trees which they placed across the road to render more difficult the charge of their opponents. In a few moments we saw the cavalry appear, and, drawing up against the sky-line, they halted, while their leaders trotted slowly forward, as if to reconnoitre the Roundheads' position. Apparently, however, the Cornish Royal troops thought the numbers of their enemies too great to attempt an onslaught, for, greatly to my disappointment, the horsemen wheeled and retired, amidst the ironical laughter and gibes of our captors. But the Roundheads had reckoned too lightly with their enemies, for shortly afterwards the Royalists appeared in our rear, opening a steady fire at long range. Chaloner was manifestly ill at ease, and, as usual, his craven spirit showed itself in its true colours. With the opening of the rearguard action he took his place at the head of the troop, exhorting them to increase their pace till their progress was little better than a flight.