“Edmund Talbot, art thou traitor to thy kin?” said Sir Thomas, from the crowd.  “Let me pass; ’tis thy father commands thee.  ’Tis not thy king, he is a coward and a usurper.”

“I care not,” said the retreating and faithful Edmund.  “My arm shall not compass with traitors.  Cowards attack unarmed men at their meals.”

“Then take thy reward.”  It was the eldest brother of Edmund who said this, whilst he aimed a terrific blow; but the dwarf caught his arm ere it descended, and a swinging stroke from a missile which he had picked up in the fray would have settled accounts between the heir of Bashall and posterity had he not stepped aside.

This unequal contest, however, could not long continue, though time, the principal object, was gained, and the king was fast hastening again towards the cavern.  In the courtyard he met Elizabeth, who implored him to step aside into another place of concealment; but he was too much terrified to comprehend her meaning.  Fear seemed to have bewildered him, and the poor persecuted monarch sped on to his own destruction.  In the hurry and uncertainty of his flight, he unfortunately took the wrong path, which led by a circuitous route to the ford; and, as he stepped out of the wood, two of his enemies, having broken through the gallant defence of his adherents, had already gained, and were guarding, the stepping-stones over the river, called “Brunckerley Hippens.”  Terrified, he flew back into the wood, but was immediately followed; and again his evil destiny seemed to prevail.  He took another path, which led him back to the ford.  Here he crossed, and, whilst leaping with difficulty over the stones, the pursuers came in full view.  Having gained the Lancashire side, he fled into the wood, but his enemies were now too close upon him for escape, and the royal captive was taken, bound, and conveyed to Bashall.  Many cruel indignities were heaped upon him; and he was conveyed to London in the most piteous plight, on horseback, with his legs tied to the stirrups.  Ere he departed, it is said that he delivered a singular prediction—­to wit, that nine generations of the Talbot family, in succession, should consist of a wise and a weak man by turns, after which the name should be lost.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES: 

[54] Whitaker’s Craven.

[55] Pennant.

[56] Hist.  Whalley.

[57] Webster, in his Metallographia, mentions a field called Skilhorn, in the township of Rivington-within-Craven, “belonging to one Mr Pudsay, an ancient esquire, and owner of Bolton Hall, juxta Bolland; who, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, did get good store of silver-ore, and convert it to his own use, or rather coined it, as many do believe, there being many shillings marked with an escallop, which the people of that country call Pudsay shillings to this day.  But whether