On his lips trembled a threat of what he would do to Hobart if he should happen to survive this business.

Betimes he remembered that to utter it were probably to extinguish his chance of living to execute it.

For to-day the King's men were masters in the West, and the West was regarded as enemy country, to be subjected to the worst horror of war by the victorious side.

Here a captain of horse was for the moment lord of life and death.
Under the apple-trees in the orchard Mr.Blood and his companions in misfortune were made fast each to a trooper's stirrup leather.

Then at the sharp order of the cornet, the little troop started for Bridgewater.
As they set out there was the fullest confirmation of Mr.Blood's hideous assumption that to the dragoons this was a conquered enemy country.