When two miles out of Abingdon he suddenly came upon a body of Parliament horse, in the leader of whom he recognized, by a great scar across his face, the officer with whom he had fallen out at Furness Hall.

Relying upon his disguise, and upon the fact that it was only for a minute that the officer had seen him, he rode quietly on.
"Whom have we here ?" the Roundhead said, reining in his horse.
"My name is Roger Copley, and I am making my way from London to my people, who reside in the west.

There is no law, I believe, against my so doing." "There is no law for much that is done or undone," the Roundhead said.
"Malignants are going about the country in all sorts of disguises, stirring up men to ungodly enterprises, and we cannot be too particular whom we let pass.

What hast thou been doing in London ?" "I have been serving my time as apprentice to Master Nicholas Fleming, the merchant in velvets and silks in the Chepe." "Hast thou any papers to prove thy identity ?" "I have not," Harry said; "not knowing that such were needed.

I have traveled thus far without interruption or question, and am surprised to find hindrance upon the part of an officer of the Commons." "You must turn your horse, and ride back with me into Abingdon," the officer said.