I hoped, but in vain, that he would tell me news of the stranger's
father, but he was too wary for that, and I did not dare to ask him. He
made close inquiries as to the lie of the land hereabouts, and I pointed
out that there was a field-path leading plainly to the village from the
other side of the bridge and coming out at an obscure stile at the back of
the "Barley Mow." The spy might have taken that and become alarmed. She
could then avoid the village by another plain path, and so get ahead of
the troops on the Stafford road.
"But what for? Who's to help her there, Master Wheatman?"
"Ask me another, Captain," said I. "But a wise woman would know where to
find friends, and Stafford's full of papishes, burn 'em!"
"Ah!"
"There's Bulbrook and Pippin Pat and Ducky Bellows; there's old
sack-face, the parson there, as good as a papist, very near. You keep your
eyes on those big houses in the East Gate. As for me, look at that back
and breast and good broad-sword there. Damn me if I don't rub 'em up and
come and have a ding with 'em at these rebels. On Naseby Field they were,
Captain, long before your time and mine, but they did good work against
these same bloody Stuarts.
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