Next moment I was flying headlong after Ferguson, with no thought for the battle left behind. But the time which I had lost since meeting him, though scarce a minute, yet proved enough to make my chase a hopeless one; and though I kept a keen eye on all red-coats, I saw no sign of him I sought.
Still, in what mad hope I know not, I tore on, until at length, having got clear alike of those who fought and those who ran, I realized my folly, and, pulling up, was just about to turn, when, from ahead, there came the ringing sound of steel on steel, I listened. Yes, swords were clashing there not far away behind a straggling wood; and by the noise of it the combat was a fierce and deadly one. Who could it be who thus fought out their quarrel in this lonely spot two miles from where a battle raged?
Bent on an answer to that question I moved slowly forwards, but had not gone far before a piercing cry rang out. Dead silence followed. The clash of swords had ceased.
Then I moved on again, this time at a canter. The fog had lifted hereabouts, while the first dim light of dawn was in the sky. And thus, on coming round the bushes, I could just make out a man with naked sword standing above another who lay prone upon the ground. On catching sight of me he sheathed his sword and fled with wondrous speed. Passing the stricken man, I followed; but he had a goodly start, and though I kept him well in sight, he beat me at the far end of the wood. There I could see no sign of him.
Puzzled, I looked around, and saw a light some fifty yards away upon the left. For this I made, and soon found out its cause. Here was an old stone hovel, used either for the ponies or the cattle which roam, half wild, on Sedgemoor. Someone (perchance a guard) had been camping there that very night, and a fire of faggots still glowed on the floor, thus lighting up the place.
Dismounting, I went in and glanced about. Nothing was there except a manger full of straw--so bulging full, in fact, that I was minded to explore it. But barely had I gone a step when methought I heard a rustling of the straw, and sure enough next moment something bright came poking through. A pistol barrel! With a diving leap, I seized and turned the threatening thing, forcing the muzzle upwards; and not a whit too soon, for even as I did so it exploded, and the bullet crashed into the rafters. Then as I clutched a bony wrist, and twisted it, a smothered cry arose, the pistol fell, a close-cropped head shot forth, and I was face to face with Tubal Ammon.