The man told me to turn to the right after crossing the river.
"But," said he, "you don't want to get mixed up in the fighting,
master. There be thousands out there on the moor. A boy would be
nowhere among all them."
"Yes," said another. "Better stay here, sir. If the Duke wins
he'll be back afore breakfast. If he gets beat, you'd be best out
of the way."
This was sound advice; but I was not in a mood to profit by it.
Something told me that the battle was to be a victory for us; so
I thanked the men, telling them that I would go out over the moor
by the road they had mentioned. As I moved away, they called out
to me to mind myself, for the King's dragoons were on the moor,
as a sort of screen in front of their camp. By the road they had
mentioned I might very well get into the King's camp without
seeing anything of my master. One of them added that the battle
would begin, or might begin, long before I got there, "if the
mist don't lead en astray, like."
It took me some few minutes to get out of the gates across the
river; for there was a press of people crowded there. It was as
dark as a summer night ever is, that is, a sort of twilight, when
I passed through, but just at the gates were two great torches
stuck into rings in the wall. The wind made their flames waver
about uncertainly, so that sometimes you could see particular
faces in the crowd, all lit in muddy gold light for an instant,
before the wavering made them dark again.
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