Thus, then, when the day of Newbury came, Falkland, whose duties in nowise led him into the fight, charged recklessly and found the death which there can be little doubt he sought.
Although the Cavaliers claimed Newbury as a great victory, instead of advancing upon London they fell back as usual to Oxford.
During the skirmishes Harry had an opportunity of doing a service to an old friend.

The Parliament horse, although valiant and better trained than that of the Royalists, were yet unable to withstand the impetuosity with which the latter always attacked, the men seeming, indeed, to be seized with a veritable panic at the sight of the gay plumes of Rupert's gentlemen.

In a fierce skirmish between Harry's troop and a party of Parliament horse of about equal strength, the latter were defeated, and Harry, returning with the main body, found a Puritan officer dismounted, with his back against a tree, defending himself from the attacks of three of his men.

Harry rode hastily up and demanded his surrender.

The officer looked up, and to his surprise Harry saw his friend Herbert.
"I am your prisoner, Harry," Herbert said, as he lowered the point of his sword.
"Not at all!" Harry exclaimed.