The man lifted his broad black hat, and went on his way, and Harry rode forward, smiling a little to himself at the promise given him.

The time passed slowly, and all kinds of rumors filled the land.  At length beacon fires were seen to blaze upon the hills, and, as it was known that the Puritans had arranged with Essex that the news of a victory was so to be conveyed to London, the hearts of the Royalists sank, for they feared that disaster had befallen their cause.  The next day, however, horsemen of the Parliament galloping through the country proclaimed that they had been defeated; but it was not till next day that the true state of affairs became known.  Then the news came that the battle had indeed been a drawn one.

On the 26th of October Charles marched with his army into Oxford.  So complete was the ignorance of the inhabitants as to the movements of the armies that at Abingdon the news of his coming was unknown, and Harry was astonished on the morning of the 27th at hearing a great trampling of horsemen.  Looking out, he beheld his father at the head of the troop, approaching the house.  With a shout of joy the lad rushed downstairs and met his father at the entrance.

“I did not look to be back so soon, Harry,” Sir Henry said, as he alighted from his horse.  “We arrived at Oxford last night, and I am sent on with my troop to see that no Parliament bands are lurking in the neighborhood.”

Before entering the house the colonel dismissed his troop, telling them that until the afternoon they could return to their homes, but must then re-assemble and hold themselves in readiness to advance, should he receive further orders.  Then, accompanied by his officers, he entered the house.  Breakfast was speedily prepared, and when this was done justice to Sir Henry proceeded to relate to Harry, who was burning with impatience to hear his news, the story of the battle of Edgehill.

“We reached Shrewsbury, as I wrote you,” he said, “and stayed there twenty days, and during that time the army swelled and many nobles and gentlemen joined us.  We were, however, it must be owned, but a motley throng.  The foot soldiers, indeed, were mostly armed with muskets; but many had only sticks and cudgels.  On the 12th we moved to Wolverhampton, and so on through Birmingham and Kenilworth.  We saw nothing of the rebels till we met at Edgecot, a little hamlet near Banbury, where we took post on a hill, the rebels being opposite to us.  It must be owned,” Sir Henry went on, “that things here did not promise well.  There were dissensions between Prince Rupert, who commanded the cavalry, and Lord Lindsey, the general in chief, who is able and of great courage, but hot-headed and fiery.  In the morning it was determined to engage, as Essex’s forces had not all come up, and the king’s troops were at least as numerous as those of the enemy.  We saw little of the fighting, for at the commencement of the battle we got word