I have spoken many times of Old Dare, as he is still called in Taunton Town, where his memory is kept green, and of his forwardness in the cause of liberty and of the Duke; and how that he was always first to be on the spot when there was any fighting and any struggle for freedom. He had spent most of the time since landing in scouring the country for horses for the Duke, and had come in late the previous evening with some forty good beasts--the one he had purchased for himself being a very fine animal.
All this I did not know at the time, but heard it afterwards. What I did see when I approached was that one of the Duke's captains, whose name I had been told was Fletcher (I have not spoken of all the captains, fearing to confuse the reader with so many new names), was seated upon a fine horse, ready equipped, as it appeared, for a journey, and that Old Dare stood beside him with his hand upon the bridle, speaking loud words in a very angry manner.
Now it had been said to me that the Scotchman Fletcher was one of the few men about the Duke who really understood the art of war, and that he was the most valuable man we had on our side; so that I was astonished to hear high words passing between him and Old Dare, and to observe that the altercation was fast growing into a serious quarrel.
But even then I was little enough prepared for what my eyes witnessed. Scarce had I come into full sight and hearing of the disputants, before Dare raised his hand in a threatening manner, as though he would have struck his adversary with the cane in his hand; whereupon Captain Fletcher, roused to a great wrath, drew forth his pistol and shot Old Dare dead as he stood.
I could scarce believe my eyes. A mist seemed to swim before them as I saw the gallant figure totter and sway, and fall helplessly to the ground. Instantly all was commotion and alarm. The Scottish gentleman turned in his saddle and addressed those about him in loud tones,--
"Gentlemen, I call you to witness that the fault is none of mine. No man of honour could suffer himself to be insulted as that fellow was insulting me. I appeal to any gentleman who saw and heard all. Could I have done other than I did?"
A clamour and tumult at once arose of such magnitude that I was glad to back away out of the forefront of the commotion, and trust to chance to pick up later the gist of the matter. But whilst the crowd surged round the body of Old Dare on the ground, and round his slayer, yet mounted upon the fine charger over which the dispute had appeared to arise, Captain Thomas Dare came hurrying up at the head of his levies, and all were crying in loud and angry tones,--