They were shocked, too, by the riotous and profligate ways of some of the wilder spirits, and deemed that their cause was sullied by the reckless conduct and wild ways of many of their party.  Sir Henry Furness belonged to this section of the king’s adherents, and Harry, who had naturally imbibed his father’s opinions, held himself a good deal aloof from the wild young spirits of the king’s party.

Skirmishes took place daily between the cavalry outposts of the two armies.  Sir Henry was asked by the prince to send some of his troops across the river to watch the enemy, and he chose that commanded by Harry, rather for the sake of getting the lad away from the temptations and dissipation of Oxford than to give him an opportunity of distinguishing himself.  The troop commanded by Sir Ralph Willoughby was also on outpost duty, and lay at no great distance from the village in which Harry quartered his men after crossing the river.  The Roundhead cavalry were known to be but three or four miles away, and the utmost vigilance was necessary.

Harry gave orders that the troops should be distributed through the village—­five men to a house.  Straw was to be brought in at night, and laid on the floor of the kitchens, and the men were there to sleep, with their arms by their sides, ready for instant service.  One of each party was to stand sentry over the five horses which were to be picketed to the palings in front of the house.  At the first alarm he was at once to awake his comrades, who were to mount instantly, and form in column in the street.  Two pickets were placed three hundred yards from the village, and two others a quarter of a mile further in advance.  Harry and Jacob took up their residence in the village inn, and arranged alternately to visit the pickets and sentries every two hours.

“They shall not catch us napping, Jacob.  This is my first command on detached duty.  You and I have often remarked upon the reckless ways of our leaders.  We have an opportunity now of carrying our own ideas into effect.”

At three o’clock Jacob visited the outposts.  All was still, and nothing had occurred to give rise to any suspicion of the vicinity of an enemy.  Half an hour later one of the advanced pickets galloped in.  They heard, he said, a noise as of a large body of horse, away to the right, and it seemed as if it was proceeding toward Chalcombe, the village where Sir Ralph Willoughby’s troop was quartered.  Two minutes later, thanks to Harry’s arrangements, the troop were mounted and in readiness for action.

The first faint dawn of day had begun.  Suddenly the stillness was broken by the sound of pistol shots and shouts from the direction of Chalcombe, which lay a mile away.

“It is likely,” Harry said, “that Sir Ralph has been caught napping.  He is brave, but he is reckless, and the discipline of his troop is of the slackest.  Let us ride to his rescue.”

The troop filed out from the village, and turned down the side road leading to Chalcombe.  Harry set spurs to his horse and led the column at a gallop.  The sound of shots continued without intermission, and presently a bright light shot up.