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Masefield, John, 1878-1967

"Martin Hyde, the Duke's Messenger"

A minute later, we were riding out
of town past the trench-labourers, my heart going pit-a-pat from
the excitement of my narrow escape. I dared not ask the Quaker to
go fast, lest he should worm my story from me, but for the first
three miles I assure you I found it hard not to prod that old nag
with my knife to make him quicken his two mile an hour crawl.
Often during the first hours of the ride I heard horses coming
after us at a gallop. It was all fancy; we were left to our own
devices. My pursuers, I found, afterwards, were misled by the
lies of the landlord at the inn we had left. We were being
searched for in Taunton all that fatal night, by half a dozen of
the Carew servants.
Bridgewater had not gone to bed when we got there. The people
were out in the streets, talking in frightened clumps, expecting
something. After thanking the Quaker for his kindness in giving
me a lift I asked at one of these clumps where I could find the
Duke. I was feeling so happy at the thought of rejoining my
master, after all my adventures, that I think I never felt so
happy.
"Where can I find the Duke?" I asked. "I'm his servant, I must
find him."
"Find him?" said one of the talkers. "He's not here. He's marched
out, sir, with all his army, over to Sedgemoor to fight the
King's army. It's a night attack, sir."
I was bitterly disappointed at not having reached my journey's
end; but there was a stir in the thought of battle. I asked by
which road I could get to the place where the battle would be.


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