On Tuesday Lenfield knew
that Sedgemoor had been fought and lost, and that Monmouth was a
fugitive. In which direction he had fled was not known, but Crosby
hazarded a guess and rode some distance towards Cranbourne Chase.
"Be careful, Master Gilbert," Golding whispered. "They've arrested men
on less suspicion than you're giving occasion for."
Crosby was quite aware of this, but he had made a promise. He had not
been prepared to fight for a rebellious Monmouth, but he was prepared to
risk much now that he was defeated and a fugitive. Still, he went
carefully, not seeking danger, and soon had reason to be convinced that
Monmouth had fled in the direction of Lenfield. Men of the Somerset
Militia were beating the country, and Crosby barely escaped falling in
with them.
When he returned to the Manor at nightfall Golding was full of news.
Lord Grey of Wark had been taken that morning, but Monmouth was still at
large.
"But he is surrounded, Master Gilbert; there is no escape for him."
"No one has been to the Manor?" Crosby asked.
"No; but there have been scouts in the neighbourhood all day. Luke the
blacksmith saw them and told me.
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