The only possible explanations that can be offered are—­first, that Sarsfield, although a dashing commander in action, was possessed of no military genius whatever; second, that he was prevented from moving by the jealousy of the French commanders-in-chief, who did not wish to see the credit of compelling the enemy to fall back monopolized by the Irish cavalry; or, third, that Sarsfield saw the advantages which could be obtained by throwing himself, with his cavalry, in the rear of the enemy, but deliberately remained inactive rather than leave the French generals to act, unchecked by his presence at headquarters.  It can never be decided to which of these alternatives it was due that the Irish cavalry remained for so long a time inactive, and that William, and after him Ginckle, were permitted, unmolested save by a few detached bodies of horse, to maintain their long line of communications to their base, unchecked.

Upon one of his excursions in the rear of the English army, Captain Davenant’s troops dashed down upon a convoy of waggons.  The dragoons who were escorting them were killed or driven off.  The drivers were collected in a group, for Captain Davenant always ordered that these men should not be injured, as they were not combatants, and were in most cases obliged to accompany their teams, which had been requisitioned for the service.

The men were collecting the waggons together, preparatory to setting them on fire, when Walter, on riding near the group of drivers, heard himself called by name.  Turning round, he leapt from his horse and ran up to one of the prisoners.

“My dear John!” he exclaimed, “I am glad indeed to see you.  Why, what brings you here?”

After exchanging hearty greetings, Walter led him away from the group, and the two sat down together on a bank.

“What brings you here?” Walter repeated.

“All the waggons within miles round Dublin have been requisitioned,” John said; “and as our three were called for, my father suggested that I should accompany them, to see that the horses were fed and cared for.”

“Which are your waggons?” Walter asked.

“The three last in the column.”

Walter immediately ran to his father, told him what had happened, and begged that the three waggons should be exempted from the general destruction.  Captain Davenant at once rode up to the men, and ordered the waggons to be unloaded and their contents added to the pyre which was being prepared, but that the waggons themselves should be taken back a quarter of a mile along the road, and left there under the charge of their drivers, who were not to move until joined by their owner.  He then rode back, and shook hands with John.

“I am glad to see you,” he said.  “All are well, I hope, at both our homes?”

“Quite well, sir.”

“Thank God for that!  Now, I must leave you to see that our work is thoroughly carried out.  You will find your waggons safe, a quarter of a mile along the road.  I will leave you to tell all the home news to Walter, who will retell it to me afterwards.”