A. T. Quiller-Couch

“ Yet here, on the near side of Launceston, was a large body of rebel horse marching quietly to the sou'-west. Where was the head or tail to it?
Turning my head as the last rider disappear'd on the way to Bodmin, I spied a squat oddly-shap'd man striding down the hill very briskly: yet he look'd about him often and kept to the hollows of the ground; and was crossing below us, as it appeared, straight for Joan's cottage.
Cried I: “There is but one man in the world with such a gait—and that's Billy Pottery!” ”

“ I was standing there with her hand in mine, and a burning remorse in my heart, when I heard the clear notes of a bugle blown, away on the road to Launceston.
Looking that way, I saw a great company of horse coming down over the crest, the sun shining level on their arms and a green standard that they bore in their midst.
Joan spied them the same instant, and check'd her sobs. Without a word we flung ourselves down full-length on the turf to watch. ”

“ I think there is always a brutality lurking in a man to leap out unawares. Yet why do I seek excuses, that have never yet found one? To be plain, I sprang fiercely up and after Joan, who had already started, and was racing along the slope.
Twice around the tor she led me: and though I strain'd my best, not a yard could I gain upon her, for her bare feet carried her light and free. Indeed, I was losing ground, when coming to the Jew's Kitchen a second time, she tried to slip inside and shut the stone in my face. ”