He set out at his usual hour in the evening. The tide was high, but just
running out, and, entering the river, he floated down with the stream.
Keeping close under the bank, he passed the batteries which the besiegers
had erected there without notice, dived under the great boom which they
had constructed across the river, directly Kirk's expedition had retired,
and continued to float down to the mouth of the river, where he landed
and boldly struck across the country, for he was now beyond the lines of
the besiegers. He knew that his friend Walter was in the Royalist army,
for one of the last mails which entered the city had told him that he was
to accompany his father, and that Captain Davenant's troop would most
likely form part of any army that might march for the north.
By the morning, his clothes had dried upon him, and he then boldly
entered the Royalist camp, mingling with the peasants who were bringing
in provisions for sale. He soon learned where Captain Davenant's troop
was stationed, and made his way thither. He stood watching for some time
until he saw Walter come out of a tent, and he then approached him.
Walter looked up, but did not recognize, in the thin and pallid lad
before him, his former companion.
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