Would to God the rascal were of our side! He's the right old English breed.

A few such were very welcome, if only to show some of our dainty young lordlings of yesterday what breed can do.

But an ass-foal it is! To run his neck into a halter, and set honest people in mortal doubt whether to pull the end or no! How on earth did he ever dream of carrying off a horse out of the very courts of Raglan castle! And yet, by saint George! he would have done it too, but for that brave wench of a Vaughan! What a couple the two would make! They'd give us a race of Arthurs and Orlandos between them.

God be praised there are such left in England! And yet the rogue is but a pestilent roundhead--the more's the pity! Those coward rascals need never have mauled him like that.

Yet had the blow gone a little deeper it had been a mighty gain to our side.