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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Hugh Gwyeth - A Roundhead Cavalier - -Author: Beulah Marie Dix - -Release Date: September 5, 2016 [EBook #52962] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUGH GWYETH *** - - - - -Produced by KD Weeks and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Transcriber’s Note:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Please consult the <a href='#endnote'>note</a> at the end of this text for -a discussion of any textual issues encountered in its preparation.</p> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='xlarge'>HUGH GWYETH</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='large'>A ROUNDHEAD CAVALIER</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/logo.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div> - <h1 class='c003'><span class='xlarge'>HUGH GWYETH</span> <br /> <span class='large'>A ROUNDHEAD CAVALIER</span></h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div> - <div class='c004'><span class='large'>BEULAH MARIE DIX</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div><span class="blackletter">New York</span></div> - <div>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</div> - <div>LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., <span class='sc'>Ltd.</span></div> - <div>1913</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'><i>All rights reserved</i></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1899</span>,</div> - <div class='c004'><span class='large'><span class='sc'>By</span> THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c006' /> -<p class='c007'><span class='small'>Set up and electrotyped March, 1899. Reprinted May, -July, 1899; January, 1900; October, 1908; January, 1913.</span></p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c005'> - <div><span class="blackletter">Norwood Press</span></div> - <div><span class='small'>J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith</span></div> - <div><span class='small'>Norwood Mass. U. S. A.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='14%' /> -<col width='74%' /> -<col width='11%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c009'><span class='xsmall'>CHAPTER</span></td> - <td class='c010'> </td> - <td class='c011'><span class='xsmall'>PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>I.</td> - <td class='c010'>Tidings out of the North</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>II.</td> - <td class='c010'>How One set out to seek his Fortune</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_16'>16</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>III.</td> - <td class='c010'>The Road to Nottingham</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_34'>34</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>IV.</td> - <td class='c010'>To Horse and Away</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_49'>49</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>V.</td> - <td class='c010'>In and Out of the “Golden Ram”</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_66'>66</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>VI.</td> - <td class='c010'>The End of the Journey</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_81'>81</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>VII.</td> - <td class='c010'>How the World dealt by a Gentleman</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_95'>95</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>VIII.</td> - <td class='c010'>The Interposition of John Ridydale</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_113'>113</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>IX.</td> - <td class='c010'>The Way to War</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_132'>132</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>X.</td> - <td class='c010'>In the Trail of the Battle</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_152'>152</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XI.</td> - <td class='c010'>Comrades in Arms</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_171'>171</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XII.</td> - <td class='c010'>For the Honor of the Gwyeths</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_190'>190</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XIII.</td> - <td class='c010'>In the Fields toward Osney Abbey</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_208'>208</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XIV.</td> - <td class='c010'>Under the King’s Displeasure</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_224'>224</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XV.</td> - <td class='c010'>The Life of Edmund Burley</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_242'>242</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XVI.</td> - <td class='c010'>Roundheads and Cavaliers</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_258'>258</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XVII.</td> - <td class='c010'>The Stranger by the Way</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_274'>274</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XVIII.</td> - <td class='c010'>The Call out of Kingsford</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_290'>290</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XIX.</td> - <td class='c010'>The Riding of Arrow Water</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_307'>307</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XX.</td> - <td class='c010'>Beneath the Roof of Everscombe</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_324'>324</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XXI.</td> - <td class='c010'>The Fatherhood of Alan Gwyeth</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_340'>340</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c009'>XXII.</td> - <td class='c010'>After the Victory</td> - <td class='c011'><a href='#Page_358'>358</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span><span class='xlarge'>HUGH GWYETH</span></div> - <div class='c004'><span class='sc'>A Roundhead Cavalier</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER I <br /> <span class='small'>TIDINGS OUT OF THE NORTH</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Up in the tops of the tall elms that overshadowed -the east wing of Everscombe manor house -the ancient rooks were gravely wrangling. A -faint morning breeze swept the green branches -and, as the leaves stirred, the warm September -sunlight smiting through fell in flakes of yellow -on the dark flagstones of the terrace below. For -a moment Hugh Gwyeth ceased to toss up and -catch the ball in his hand, while he stood to count -the yellow spots that shifted on the walk. Eight, -nine,—but other thoughts so filled his head that -there he lost count and once more took up his -listless tramp.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Off to his left, where beyond the elms the lawn -sloped down to the park, he could hear the calls -of the boys at play,—his Oldesworth cousins and -Aunt Rachel Millington’s sons. The Millingtons -had come to Everscombe a week before out of -Worcestershire, where the king’s men were up in -arms and had plundered their house. Yet the -young Millingtons were playing at ball with the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>Oldesworth lads as if it were only a holiday. -“Children!” Hugh muttered contemptuously -and, conscious of his own newly completed sixteen -years, threw an increased dignity into his -step. He was a wiry lad, of a slender, youthful -figure, but for all that he carried himself well -and with little awkwardness. Neither was he ill-looking; -though there was a reddish tinge to his -close-cut hair it changed to gold when he came -into the sunlight, and at all times there was -in his blue eyes a steady, frank look that made -those who liked him forget the freckles across -the bridge of his nose and cheek bones, and the -almost aggressive squareness of his chin.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mouth and chin were even sullen now, as Hugh -lingered a moment to glance up at the small diamond -panes of the window of the east parlor. -Within, Hugh’s grandfather, Gilbert Oldesworth, -the master of Everscombe, his sons, Nathaniel -and Thomas, his daughter’s husband, David Millington, -and Roger Ingram, the lieutenant in -Thomas Oldesworth’s troop of horse, were conferring -with men from Warwick on the raising -of forces, the getting of arms, and all the means -for defending that part of the county; and Peregrine, -the eldest of the Oldesworth lads, was -allowed to be of their counsels. Hugh turned -away sharply and resumed his dreary tramp up -and down the flagged terrace. “If I had been -Uncle Nathaniel’s son, they would have suffered -me to be present as well as Peregrine,” he muttered, -pausing to dig the toe of his shoe into a -crack between the flagstones. “’Tis not just. -I am near a man, and they might treat me—” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>He gave the ball an extra high toss and paced on -slowly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But, call as he would upon his injured dignity, -he could not refrain from facing about at the end -of the walk and retracing his steps till he was -loitering once more beneath the window of the -east parlor. He was not listening, he told himself, -nor was he spying; there was no harm in -walking on the east terrace of a morning, nor in -lingering there to play at ball. So he stood slipping -the ball from hand to hand, but his eyes -were fixed on the little panes of the window -above and his thoughts were busy on what was -happening within. Would the people of the -hamlets round about Everscombe, the farmers -and ploughboys, who of a Sunday sat stolidly in -the pews of the village church at Kingsford, -would they truly resist their sovereign? The -Oldesworths would head them, without doubt, -but how many others scattered through the -county and all through wide England were of -the like mind? And what would come of it? -Would there be war in the land, such wars -as Hugh had read the Greeks and Romans had -waged, such as the great German wars in which -his own father had borne a part? And if there -was a war and brave deeds to do and fame to win, -would his grandfather and his uncles let him come -and fight too, or would they still shut him out with -the little boys, as they had shut him out to-day?</p> - -<p class='c007'>So he was thinking, when of a sudden the window -at which he had been staring swung open, -and Nathaniel Oldesworth, a mild-featured man -of middle age, looked out upon him. Hugh -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>flushed suddenly and kept his eyes on the ball -he was still shifting from hand to hand. “You -here, Hugh?” his uncle’s voice reached him. -“Take yourself off to your play.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, sir,” Hugh answered, and sauntered away -down the walk. He kept his chin up and his -mouth was sulky, but in his boy’s heart every -fibre of awakening manhood was quivering at -this last insult. Go play! when every moment -was big with events, when war was bursting on -the land, and there was work for every man to -do, he was bidden to content himself with a ball!</p> - -<p class='c007'>He went slowly down the steps at the south -end of the terrace and bearing off from the -stables struck through the long grass toward -the orchard. He walked with eyes on the ground, -too deeply buried in his own resentful thoughts -to heed whither he was going, but he realized -when he entered the orchard, for the sunlight -that had been all about him since he quitted the -terrace went out; he saw the earth was no longer -grassy but bald and brown, and he trod on a hard -green apple that rolled under his foot.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A second small apple suddenly plumped to the -ground before him, and a girl’s voice called, -“Hugh, Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The boy looked up. Just above his head, -through the branches of the great apple tree, he -saw the face of Lois Campion, the orphan niece -of Nathaniel Oldesworth’s wife. “Are you hunting -for snails?” she asked, while her dark eyes -laughed. “Prithee, give over now, like a good lad, -and help me hence. I have sat here half the -morning for lack of an arm to aid me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>She had slipped down the branches to the fork -of the tree so that she could rest her hands on -Hugh’s shoulders, and as they came thus face to -face her tone changed: “Why, Hugh, what has -gone wrong?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing,” he answered shortly, swinging her -down to the ground.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You look as though you had eaten a very -sour apple,” said Lois. “Try these. There are -sweet tastes in them, if you chew long enough.” -She had seated herself at the foot of the tree -with her head resting against the gnarled gray -trunk.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s not apples I want,” Hugh replied gruffly, -and then the troubled look in the girl’s eyes made -him sit down beside her with a thought of saying -something to make amends for his surliness; -only words did not come easily, for his mind -could run on nothing but his own discontent.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think I know,” Lois spoke gently and put -her hand on his arm. “’Tis because of Cousin -Peregrine.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh shook off her hand and dropped down -full length on the ground with his forehead pressing -upon his arms; he felt it would be the crowning -humiliation of the morning if the girl should -see the look on his face at the mere mention of -his trouble.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a time there was silence, except for the -thud of a falling apple and the soft rustle of -leaves in the light wind; it was one of Lois’s -best comrade qualities, Hugh realized vaguely -now, that she knew when to hold her peace. It -was he himself that renewed the conversation, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>when he felt assured that he had himself too well -in hand to let any childish breaking be audible in -his voice: “I wish my father had lived.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wish my parents had, too,” Lois answered -quietly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I did not wish it, when I spoke, because I -loved them, I fear,” Hugh went on, digging up -the scant blades of grass about him with one -hand; “I do love them, but I did not think of it -so, then. But I thought how, when a lad hath a -father alive, things are made easy for him,—no, -not easy; I do not mean skulking at home,—but -he is helped to do a man’s part. Now there was -a good friend of mine, there at Warwick school, -Frank Pleydall; I’ve spoke of him to you. I was -home with him once for the holidays, to a great -house in Worcestershire, where his father, Sir -William Pleydall, lives. And Frank had his own -horses and dogs, and the servants did his bidding, -and—and his father is very fond of him.” Hugh -paused a moment, then gave words to the grievance -nearest his heart: “And Peregrine, now, -because he is Uncle Nathaniel’s son, he is to -have a cornetcy in Uncle Thomas’s troop, and he -will have a new horse,—I do not begrudge it to -Peregrine, but they might try me and see what I -can do.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But, Hugh,” Lois ventured, “you are younger -than Peregrine.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Only two years and a half,” Hugh raised himself -on one elbow, “and do but feel the thick of -my right arm there. And at Warwick school -when they taught us sword-play I learnt enough -to worst Master Peregrine, I am sure. And I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>can stick to my saddle as well as he, though I -never have anything to ride but a plough horse. -And I have not even that now,” he went on, with -an effort at a laugh, “since all have been taken -to mount Uncle Thomas’s troop. But Peregrine -will have a horse and a sword of his own and go -to the wars. Do you understand what ’tis I mean, -Lois?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” Lois replied with a downward look and -a quiver of the mouth. “You will think ’tis girl’s -folly in me, but I have felt what you mean when -I have seen Martha and Anne have new gowns, -and I must wear my old frock still.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was another long silence, broken this -time by Lois. “Hugh,” she half whispered, “I -believe we are very wicked and ungrateful to our -kinsfolk.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do not believe so,” the boy answered doggedly; -“they have given us nothing but food and -clothes, and one craves other things besides.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lois nodded without speaking, then fetched a -breath like a sob. “Lois!” Hugh cried in honest -alarm; he had never seen her thus before, -“don’t cry. I am ashamed I bore myself so unmanly -to hurt you. Don’t cry.” He took her -hand in his, and tried to think of something comforting -to say.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lois bit her lips and made not another sound -till she could answer with only a slight tremble: -“What you spoke of, made me feel lonely.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am sorry I spoke so,” Hugh said contritely, -still holding her hand. “Shall we go look for -apples now?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The girl shook her head: “Prithee, do not put -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>me off, Hugh, and do not reproach yourself; I am -not sorry that you spoke so. You are the only -one to whom I can talk of such things, here at -Everscombe.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you are the only one I have been able to -talk to of anything that touches me nearly, these -two years since my mother died.—Do you know, -Lois, I sometimes think you look like her. She -had brown hair like yours, for she was a true -Oldesworth and dark. Now I am a Gwyeth, and -so I come rightly by my red hair.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You shall not slander it so,” Lois interrupted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Aunt Delia calls it red. I care not for the -color, but I’d like to let it grow.” Hugh ran his -fingers through his cropped hair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Would you turn Cavalier?” Lois asked half -seriously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Most gentlemen wear their hair long; even -my grandfather and Uncle Nathaniel, for all they -hold to Parliament.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Master Thomas Oldesworth has cut his close; -he says all soldiers do so in Germany.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My father did not,” Hugh answered quickly. -“And he had more experience in the German -wars than ever Uncle Tom will have.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me about him again, Hugh, if you will,” -Lois begged.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The boy slipped down till he rested on his -elbow once more. “There is not much I can -tell,” he began, but his face was eager with interest -in the old story. “I remember little of those -times, but my mother was ever telling me of him. -His name was Alan Gwyeth; ’tis a Welsh name, -and he had Welsh blood in him. They put him -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>to school, but he ran away to follow the wars in -the Low Countries. Later he was here in Warwickshire -to raise men who’d adventure for the -German wars, and he met my mother, and they -loved each other, so they married. My grandfather -and Uncle Nathaniel did not like my -father, so he left the kingdom straightway, and -she went with him on his campaigns in Germany. -I was born there; I think I can remember it, -just a bit. A porcelain stove with tiles, and the -story of Moses upon them; and a woman with -flaxen hair who took care of me; and my father, -I am sure I remember him, a very tall man with -reddish hair and blue eyes, who carried me on his -shoulder.” Hugh’s look strayed beyond the girl -and he was silent a time. “Then it all ended -and we came home to England. I remember the -ship and I was sick; and then the great coach -we rode in from Bristol; and how big Everscombe -looked and lonesome, and my mother -cried.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And—and your father?” Lois asked timidly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He died,” Hugh answered softly. “My mother -never told me how, but it must have been in -battle, for he was a very brave soldier, she said. -And he was the tenderest and kindest man that -ever lived, and far too good for her, she said, but -I do not believe that. And just before she died -she told me I must try always to be like him, a -true-hearted gentleman and a gallant soldier.—I -am glad I look like him, and then, sometimes,” -Hugh’s tone grew more dubious, “but usually ’tis -when I have done wrong, Aunt Delia says I am -my father over again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>“Aunt Delia has a sharp tongue,” said Lois -with a sigh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know it well,” Hugh answered ruefully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But still, she has a kind heart,” the girl was -amending charitably, when from across the orchard -came a shrill call of “Hugh,” which ended -in a high-pitched howl.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lois rose and peering under her hand gazed out -into the sunlight of the level grass beyond the -apple trees. “’Tis Sam Oldesworth,” she said, and -as she spoke a boy of thirteen or fourteen years -broke headlong into the shade of the orchard.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where have you been, Hugh?” he panted. -“Have you my ball safe? I’ve looked everywhere -for you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“For the ball? There ’tis,” Hugh replied.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, not for that. There’s something up at -the house for you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is it?” Hugh came to his feet at a -jump, while his thoughts sped bewilderingly to -swords, horses, and commissions.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Guess,” replied Sam.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh turned his back and walked away toward -the manor house at a dignified pace; it would -not do to let a young sprig like Sam know his -curiosity and eagerness. But Lois, having no -such scruples, teased her cousin with questions -till the boy, bubbling over with the importance of -the news, admitted: “Well, the post from the -north has come, and there is something for Hugh -in the east parlor.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A letter?” Hugh queried with momentary -disappointment in his tone. But though a letter -was not as good as a commission it was something -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>he had never had before in his life, so he -quickened his step and with high expectations -entered the east wing and passed through the -small hall to the parlor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The door stood open, and opposite the sunlight -from the window, still flung wide, lay in a clear -rectangle upon the dark floor. About the heavy -oak table in the centre of the room, in speech -of the news brought from the north by the -freshly arrived letters, sat or stood in knots of -two or three the grave-faced men of the conference. -At the head of the table, where the -sunlight fell upon his long white hair, sat Master -Gilbert Oldesworth, an erect man with keen eyes -and alert gestures, in spite of his seventy years. -Hugh also caught sight of Peregrine and noted, -with a certain satisfaction, that this fortunate -cousin sat at the foot of the table and seemed to -have small share in the business in hand. But -next moment he had enough to do to give heed -to his own concerns, for Nathaniel Oldesworth -called him by name and he must enter to receive -his letter. He felt his cheeks burn with the -consciousness that strangers had their eyes on -him and that he must appear to them a mere -dishevelled, awkward schoolboy; he grew angry -with himself for his folly, and his face burned -even more. Scarcely daring to raise his eyes, he -caught up the letter his uncle held out to him -and slipped back again into the hall.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sam pounced upon him at once. “What is -it?” he demanded, and Lois’s eyes asked the same -question.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh forgot the hot embarrassment and misery -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>of a moment before, as he turned the letter -in his hand. “I don’t know the writing,” he said, -prolonging the pleasure while he examined the -superscription; then he tore open the paper, and -the first sight of the sheet of big sprawling black -letters was enough. “Ah, but I do know!” he -cried. “’Tis from Frank Pleydall, Lois.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your school friend?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes. I have not heard from him these six -months, since he left the school. Doctor Masham, -the master, said the queen was a Babylonish -woman, and when Sir William heard of that he -came to the school in a great rage and called -Doctor Masham a canting Puritan and a hoary-headed -traitor,--truly, the Doctor is but little -older and not a bit more white headed than Sir -William himself. And he took Frank away, and—I -was right sorry to lose him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you have found him again now,” said -Lois. “Come, Sam.” She coaxed the youngster, -still reluctant and lingering, out upon the terrace, -and Hugh, happy in being alone, set himself -down at once on the stairway that led from the -hall to the upper story. It was hard to find a -secluded place in Everscombe those days, what -with the men from Thomas Oldesworth’s troop -quartered in the old west wing, and the Millingtons -and other refugee kinsfolk in the main part -of the house. So in the fear that a noisy cousin -or two might come to interrupt him, Hugh settled -himself hastily and began his letter:—</p> - -<div class='letter'> - -<p class='c000'><span class='sc'>Good Hugh</span>:</p> - -<p class='c007'>It has come to my remembrance that it is many days since -you have had news of me, so at a venture I send this letter to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>your grandfather’s house, though the roads are so beset and -the post so delayed it is doubtful if it ever reach you. I am -here at Nottingham with my father. He commands a notable -troop of horse, drawn out of our own county, and many of them -men bred on our own lands, proper stout fellows, that will make -the rebels to skip, I promise you. My father is colonel, and some -of my cousins and uncles and neighboring gentlemen hold commissions, -and I think I shall prevail upon my father to bestow -one on me, though he maintains I be over-young, which is all -folly. The king’s standard was raised here week before last, -and we all nigh split our throats with cheering. The town is -full of soldiers and gentlemen from all over the kingdom, and -many from following the wars abroad, and more coming every -day. I have seen his Majesty the king,—God bless him! He -rode through the street and he hath a noble face and is most -gracious and kingly. I do not see how men can have the -wickedness to take up arms against him. I have also seen his -nephew, Prince Rupert, the famous German soldier, who they -say shall have a great command in the war. My father has had -speech with him and he commended our troop most graciously. -It has been the most memorable time of all my life, and, best -of all, I shall never go back to school now, but go to the wars. -I would you might be with us, Hugh, for it is the only life for -gentlemen of spirit. Heaven keep you well, and if this reaches -you, write me in reply.</p> - -<div class='c013'>Your loving friend to serve you,</div> -<div class='c014'><span class='sc'>Francis Pleydall</span>.</div> - -</div> - -<div class='letter'> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Nottingham</span>, Sept. 5, 1642.</p> -<p class='c015'>I misremembered to tell you. Among the soldiers come from -Germany is a certain Alan Gwyeth, a man of some forty years, -with hair reddish gold like yours. It is an odd name and I -thought perhaps he might be some kinsman of yours. We met -with him the day the standard was raised, and I would have -questioned him myself, but my father said I was over-forward -and I had to hold my peace. Did your father leave any -brothers or cousins in Germany? This man is a notable -soldier and has got him a colonelcy under the Prince.</p> - -<div class='c014'>F. P.</div> - -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh sat staring at the paper and saw the -black letters and the words but found no meaning -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>in them. Across the dim hall he could see -through the open door the strip of greensward -that ran across the front of Everscombe, part black -with the shadow of the east wing and part dazzling -bright with the noon sun. He fixed his gaze -upon the clean line where the shade gave way to -vivid light, till the sunny greenness blurred before -his eyes; he felt the roughness of the paper, as he -creased and recreased it with nervous fingers, but -he could not think; he could only feel that something -vast and portentous was coming into his -life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A noise of tramping feet and a burst of voices -roused him. The conference ended, the men -came slowly from the east parlor, and lingered -speaking together, then scattered, some with -Nathaniel Oldesworth into the main part of the -house, some with Thomas Oldesworth out upon -the terrace. Master Gilbert Oldesworth was not -among them, Hugh noted, and on a sudden impulse -he half ran across the hall and entered the -east parlor, closing the door behind him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Master Oldesworth looked up from the paper -over which he had been poring. “You would -speak with me, Hugh?” he asked, with a touch -of displeasure in his tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If I may. ’Tis important,” Hugh stammered. -“Will you look at this letter? No, not all, just -this place, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh stood at his grandfather’s side, griping -the edge of the table so he saw the blood leave -his fingers. In the elms outside the open window -the rooks still scolded, and over in the corner of -the room the great clock ticked loudly, but there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>was no other sound till Hugh had counted thrice -sixty of its noisy ticks. Then the boy drew a -quick breath, and, dreading what he might find, -raised his eyes to his grandfather’s face. But he -saw no sign there for several moments, not till -Master Oldesworth had laid down Frank Pleydall’s -letter, and then Hugh perceived there was -something akin to pity in the old man’s eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, Hugh, and what would you know?” -he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That man, Alan Gwyeth, is he—” Hugh -felt and knew what the answer would be before -Master Oldesworth spoke the words slowly: -“Yes, Hugh, ’tis your father.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER II <br /> <span class='small'>HOW ONE SET OUT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“You must have known at last, but I had not -thought it would be so soon,” Master Oldesworth -went on. “’Twas folly ever to have kept it -from you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In a blind way Hugh had groped for a chair -and sat down with his elbow on the table and his -forehead pressing hard upon his hand. His face -was toward the window and he was aware of the -brightness flooding in through it, but he could -see clearly only his grandfather’s thin, clean-shaven -lips and searching eyes. “Tell me,” he -found voice to say at last, “I want to know all. -My father—he has been alive all these years? -You knew?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Master Oldesworth nodded.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You deceived me?” Hugh’s voice rose shrill -and uncontrollable. “You knew you were deceiving -me? You had no right, ’twas wickedness, -’twas—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It was your mother’s wish.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The burst of angry words was choked in -Hugh’s throat; with a little shudder of the shoulders -he dropped his head upon his folded arms. -“Will you tell me wherefore, sir?” he asked in -a dull tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>“Because of the never-dying folly of woman,” -Master Oldesworth replied, with a sudden fierce -harshness of tone that made Hugh lift his head. -He felt that, if the revelation of the letter had -not made every other happening of that day -commonplace, he would have been surprised at -the sudden lack of control that made his grandfather’s -sallow cheeks flush and his thin lips -move. But in a moment Master Oldesworth -was as calm of demeanor as before and his voice -was quite colorless when he resumed: “Hear the -truth at last, Hugh, and you, too, will have reason -to curse the folly of womankind. She, your -mother, my best-beloved daughter, was most -wilful, even from a child. Though you have -none of her look I have noted in you something -of her rash temper. Her own impulse and desire -must always be her guides, and well they guided -her. For there came a swashbuckling captain -of horse out of Germany, with a brisk tongue -and an insolent bearing, for which that mad girl -put all her love on him, worthless hackster -though he was.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis my father whom you speak of so?” Hugh -cried, with an involuntary clinching of the hands.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your mother’s work again!” said Master -Oldesworth with a flicker of a smile, that was -half sad and half contemptuous. “She fled away -from her father’s house to marry this swaggering -rascal; she followed him into Germany; and -there she found true all her kinsmen had told -her of his worthlessness and wickedness. So -she took her child and gladly came back to us -again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>“She never uttered word of this to me,” Hugh -maintained doggedly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I urged her to,” Master Oldesworth continued, -“but, with the weakness of her sex, before -six months were out she had forgot his unworthiness -and baseness. She remembered only that -she loved him and she blamed herself that she -had left him; indeed, she would have returned if -she had been assured he would receive her back. -But I forbade her hold communication with him -while she dwelt beneath my roof, and he himself -did not care to seek her out, though she long -looked for him. When he did not come she was -the more convinced the fault was hers, and, since -she had robbed her son of his father, as she -phrased it, she would at least give him a true and -noble conception of that father to cherish. Perhaps -she held it compensation for the wrong she -thought she had worked Alan Gwyeth that she -sketched him unto you a paragon of all virtues. -And partly for that he was dead to her, and -partly for that she would not have the shame of -her flight, as she called her most happy deliverance, -be known to you, she gave him out to you -as dead. ’Twas ill done, but I suffered her to -rule you as she would; I had ever a weak fondness -for her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With a sudden jarring noise Hugh thrust back -his chair and stumbling to the window stood so -Master Oldesworth could not see his face. His -poor mother, his poor mother! Because he -knew in his heart she had done ill to him with -her weak deceptions he loved her and pitied her -all the more, and his eyes smarted with repressed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>tears that he could not see her nor tell her that it -all mattered little, the agony this disillusionment -was costing him; he knew she had meant it kindly -and he thanked her for it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was still staring out between the elms at -the sloping lawn, where, he remembered as if it -had happened years back, he had played that -very morning like a boy, when his grandfather’s -dry tones reached him: “This man would seem -to have roistered through life without thought of -her. Of late I did not know myself whether he -were dead or living, but it seems he is sailing on -the high waves of royal favor and has found himself -fitting comradeship among the profligates and -traitors of King Charles’s camp.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh swept his hand across his eyes and faced -about squarely. His father a profligate who had -abandoned his mother! Who dared say it or -believe it? His mother’s face as she had looked -before she died came back to him. A true-hearted -gentleman and a gallant soldier, like his father,—like -his father.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you never suspected anything of the -truth ere this?” Master Oldesworth pursued.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Once, months back, Aunt Delia told me a -story somewhat like this,” Hugh’s voice came low -but so firm it surprised him, “but I held it only -some of her spitefulness and I did not believe it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Master Oldesworth looked up with a curious -expression. “Do you believe it now?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” Hugh answered honestly, then quickly -added, “I crave your pardon, sir, but I cannot -believe it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have back this letter of yours,” Master Oldesworth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>said, rising, and as Hugh came up to him -he put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You -have a loyal heart, Hugh Gwyeth,” he said dryly, -“and ’tis no shame of yours you have such a -father.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am not ashamed of him, sir,” Hugh replied -stoutly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You are your mother over again,” said the -old man, in a tone that held something of vexation -and something of amusement, yet more of -kindliness than he was accustomed to show his -orphan grandson.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh was in no mood to note this, however, -but, delaying only to take his precious letter, left -the east parlor at a brisk step that verged upon a -run. Once in the open air, where he was freed -from the restraint of his grandfather’s presence, -he leaped down the low terrace and, hallooing at -the top of his lungs, raced full speed across the -lawn. But when the shadow of the tall oaks on -the border of the park fell upon him the noisiness -of his joy somewhat abated. He rambled on -more slowly with a happy under-consciousness of -the dusky green of the old trees about him and -the shimmer of the stray sunbeams; he wondered -that the dull, familiar park seemed so joyous and -beautiful a place.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Not till he had crossed the grassy roadway that -led to the manor house, and plunged into the -thicker growth of trees, did he come again to the -power of framing connected thoughts. Little -by little he let his pace slacken, till at length he -flung himself down in the shade of a beech tree -and pulling out Frank’s letter read the last sentences -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>aloud. His father was alive, an officer in -the king’s army, at Nottingham, only the width of -two counties away. Hugh clasped his hands -behind his head and lying back gazed up unwinkingly -at the cloudless blue sky; in his heart -there was no room for any feeling save that of -pure happiness, of which the bright day seemed -a mere reflection. For he neither remembered -nor heeded the words his grandfather had spoken -of Alan Gwyeth; he only knew that a few score -miles away the tall man with reddish hair and -blue eyes, who used to carry him upon his -shoulder, was alive and waiting for him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The resolve formed in these hours of reflection -he told to Lois Campion, when, late in the afternoon, -he crashed his way out to the edge of the -park with the briskness of one who has made up -his mind. The girl was playing at shuttlecock -with Martha Oldesworth, but at sight of Hugh -she quickly laid aside her battledoor and came to -him where he was lingering for her beneath the -oaks. “Where have you been?” she cried. -“We missed you at dinner, and Peregrine, who -was honey-tongued as ever, said you were sulking. -But I knew ’twas some witchery in that -letter.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laughed excitedly. “Witchery? Ay, -’twas that indeed, Lois. Can you believe it? My -father is alive, at the king’s camp; and I have -determined to go to him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With that he made her sit down beside him and -told her all, so confidently and happily she dared -not venture more than one objection: “But ’tis a -long way to Nottingham, Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>“I can walk it. Take no heed to the way, Lois, -but think of the end.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When shall you go?” she asked, playing absently -with some acorns she had gathered in her -hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To-morrow night.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So soon?” The acorns fell neglected to the -ground.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, ’tis delaying over-long. I would set out -this very night, but I suppose I should take some -time for preparation.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you must run from home by night?” she -repeated sadly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Like Dick Whittington. I wonder if I have -such good fortune as he.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How happy your father will be to see you!” -Lois continued.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twill be naught but happiness for us all,” -Hugh ran on boisterously. “Ah, must you go, -Lois?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I must finish my game with Martha,” the girl -answered steadily. Hugh saw, however, that she -did not go near Martha but walked away to the -house, and he was vexed because she did not care -enough about his departure to stay to talk with -him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was well for Hugh the day was nearly spent, -if his plans were to be kept secret; for he longed -to speak of them, and, now Lois would not listen, -there was no one in whom he could safely confide. -Moreover, Sam Oldesworth was so curious about -the letter that it was a perilously great temptation -to hint to him just a little, especially when -the two boys were preparing for bed. Since the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>Millingtons had come to Everscombe Sam and -Hugh had been obliged to sleep together, an arrangement -never acceptable to the older boy and -this night even dangerous. Fortunately he realized -his weakness enough to reply shortly to all -his companion’s eager questions, however gladly -he would have told something of his secret, till -Sam at last grumbled himself to sleep. But Hugh -turned on his side and for hours lay staring into -the dark of the chamber, planning for his journey -and sometimes wondering where he would be in -the blackness of the next night.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the morning, when he first woke and lay -gazing at the familiar room, it gave him a feeling -of surprisingly keen regret to tell himself that this -was his last day at Everscombe. Perhaps it was -the outward aspect of the day that made him feel -so depressed, for a slow, drizzling rain was falling -and the sky was thick with gray clouds.</p> - -<p class='c007'>All the morning Hugh avoided his cousins, and -even Lois, against whom the resentment of the -previous afternoon still lasted, and prowled restlessly -about the house to pay farewell visits to the -rooms that he had known. Thus his Aunt Delia -found him, loitering upon the garret stairs, and -sharply bade him go about his business, so Hugh, -his sensitive dignity a-quiver, drew back to his -chamber, where he pretended to choose equipments -for his journey. In reality it was a simple -matter; he would wear his stuff jacket and -breeches,—he owned no other suit of clothes,—and -his one pair of stout shoes. He did not -trouble himself about clean linen, but he took -pains to see that his pistol was in order; it was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>an old one that had belonged to Peregrine, before -he received a case of new ones in keeping with -his position as cornet in the Parliament’s army. -Peregrine’s old riding boots had also fallen to -Hugh’s share; they were a trifle too big and were -ill patched, but there was something trooper-like -about them that made him sorry when he realized -that he could not take them with him. He reluctantly -dropped them back into the wardrobe, -and then, the sight of them reminding him he had -yet to bid farewell to his friends the horses, he -spattered out through the rain to the stables.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The stones of the stable yard were slippery -and wet; at the trough in the centre three horses, -with their coats steaming, were drinking, while -the man at their heads, one of Tom Oldesworth’s -newly levied troopers, joked noisily with a little -knot of his comrades. Inside the big dark stable -a great kicking and stamping of horses was rumblingly -audible above the loud talk of the men at -work. Hugh loitered into the confusion and, -making his way through the main building, -entered the quieter wing, where were the old -family horses with whom he had acquaintance. -But when he stepped through the connecting door -he perceived that even here others were before -him; standing with hands behind him and legs -somewhat wide, as befitted a veteran horse-soldier, -was Tom Oldesworth, a close-shaven, firm-mouthed -man of thirty, in talk with his lieutenant, Roger -Ingram. Near by stood Peregrine Oldesworth, a -heavy-featured, dark lad, who was bearing his -part in the conversation quite like a man. Whatever -the matter was, they seemed too merry over -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>it for any business of the troop, so Hugh thought -it no harm to saunter over to them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Looking for a commission, eh, Hugh?” Tom -Oldesworth broke off his talk to ask jestingly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not under you, sir,” Hugh retorted, rather -sharply.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Oldesworth laughed and patted his head. -“Never mind, my Roundhead,” he said cheerfully, -as Hugh ducked out of his reach, “your -turn’ll come soon. No doubt Peregrine will get -a ball through his brains ere the winter be over, -and then I promise you his place.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then you think the war will last till winter?” -questioned Ingram.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Till winter? I tell you, Roger, we’re happy -if we have a satisfactory peace in the land two full -years hence.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’re out there, Captain. These gallants of -the king’s will stand to fight here no better than -they stood against the Scots. They’ll be beat to -cover ere snow fall—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pshaw!” replied Oldesworth, convincingly. -“Look you here, Roger.” Thereupon the two -fell to discussing the king’s resources and those -of Parliament, and comparing the merits of commanders, -and quoting the opinions of leaders, till -Hugh tired of it all and strolled away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He passed slowly down the line of stalls, caressing -the soft muzzles of the kindly horses, and -lingered a time to admire the big black charger -that belonged to Captain Oldesworth. In the -next stall stood a clean-limbed bay, which thrust -out its head as if expecting notice; Hugh hesitated, -then began stroking the velvety nose, when -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>Peregrine swaggered up to him with a grand, -“Don’t worry that horse of mine, Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was not worrying him,” Hugh answered -hotly. “But you can be sure I’ll never touch -him again.” He turned and walked away toward -the open door.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, you can touch him now and then,” Peregrine -replied, as he followed after him out into -the courtyard, where the rain had somewhat -abated. “But he’s too brave a beast for you -youngsters to be meddling with all the time. -You’d spoil his temper.” Then, as Hugh still -kept a sulky silence, his cousin asked abruptly, -“What’s amiss with you to-day?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ve not been friendly of late. I believe -you are jealous that I have a commission.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do not want your commission,” Hugh replied, -and to show he spoke the truth he forced a -laugh and tried to say carelessly, as he might -have said a month before, “Tell you what I do -want, though: a new flint for my pistol. Will -you not give me one, Peregrine?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are you going to shoot Cavaliers?” the elder -boy asked, as he halted to fumble in his pockets.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Maybe.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Peregrine drew out three bits of flint, turned -them in his hand, then gave the least perfect to -Hugh. “I took it from my new pistol this morning,” -he explained. “’Tis good enough for any -service you’ll need of it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh bit his lip, but with a muttered word of -thanks took the flint.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was furbishing up my weapons this morning,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>Peregrine went on. “We go on real service -next week; we determined on it yesterday at the -conference.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought Uncle Tom said the troop would -not be in fit condition to serve for a fortnight.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not all the troop. But Uncle Tom, and I, -and Lieutenant Ingram, are to take some thirty -men that are in trim and go into Staffordshire -to see what can be done among the godly people -thereabouts.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good luck to you, Peregrine,” Hugh forced -himself to say, then shook off his companion -and, passing from the stable yard, trudged away -through the wet grass, with the old jealous pang -worrying him as savagely as ever. But soon he -told himself that his father would probably give -him a horse and good weapons too, and, being a -colonel in the king’s army, would very likely let -him go to the wars with him, perhaps even give -him a commission; and, thinking still of his father, -by the time he returned to the house he had quite -forgotten Peregrine.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The rain had nearly ceased; there seemed even -a prospect of a clear sunset, and with the lightening -of the weather Hugh cast aside the heavy -feeling of half-regretful parting which had weighed -on him all day and grew impatient for darkness, -when he could set out on his journey. But the -night came slowly, as any other night, with a rift -of watery sunset in the west and mottled yellow -clouds, that fading gave place to the long, gray -twilight, which deepened imperceptibly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh started early to his room, which was in -the east wing, so he went by the staircase from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>the little hall. Halfway up, as he strode two -steps at a time, he almost stumbled over a -slight figure that caught at his arm. “Lois!” -he cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The girl rose to her feet. “Why are you angry -with me, Hugh?” she asked, and though he could -not see her face he knew by her voice she was -almost sobbing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why did you run away from me yesterday?” -he replied, feeling foolish and without -excuse.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No matter. I have forgot. But I wanted to -have speech with you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You waited here to bid me farewell? ’Twas -good of you, Lois,” Hugh blurted out. “I am -sorry I was so rough to you about yesterday.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then we’ll part still friends?” Lois said -eagerly. “And here is something you are to -take with you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your five shillings?” Hugh broke out, as she -pressed the coins into his hand. “Nay, Lois, I -cannot.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You must; ’twill be a long journey, and you -have little money, I know. And I shall never -have need of such a hoard. Prithee, take it, -Hugh, else I shall think you still are angry because -I left you yesterday. But truly, ’twas only -that I could not bear the thought of your going.” -She was crying now in good earnest, and Hugh -tried awkwardly to soothe her and whisper her -some comfort: he wished she were a boy and -could go with him, perhaps even now he could -come back some time and fetch her; he never -would forget what a good friend she had been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>to him; and much more he was saying, when -Martha’s voice came from below in the dusk of -the hall: “Lois.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I must go,” the girl whispered. “Farewell, -Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Farewell, Lois.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“God keep you, dear, always.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He heard her go slowly down the stairs and -wished she had stayed with him longer; he might -have said more cheering things. Then he heard -the footsteps of the two girls die away in the hall, -and he went on to his room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He had placed his pistol on a chair beneath his -cloak and hat, and had just lain down in his undergarments -and stockings beneath the coverings, -when Sam came in full of conversation, which -Hugh’s short replies quickly silenced. But after -the boy had lain down Hugh remembered that -this was the last night they would sleep together, -and, repenting his shortness, he said gently: -“Good night, Sam.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What’s wrong with you?” asked his cousin, -which made Hugh feel foolish and answer curtly, -“Nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then there was a long silence in the dark -chamber, till at length Sam was breathing deep -and evenly. He was well asleep, Hugh assured -himself, so, slipping quietly from the bed, he -quickly drew on his outer clothes, put on cloak -and hat, and tucked the pistol in his belt. He -was just taking his shoes in his hand, when Sam -stirred and asked drowsily: “What are you doing -now?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I saw Martha’s battledoor out o’ doors,” Hugh -<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>mumbled. “I must fetch it or the dew will -spoil it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sam gave a sleepy sigh, then buried his head in -the pillow again, and Hugh, waiting for no more, -stole out of the room into the darkness of the -corridor that was so thick it seemed tangible. -He scuffed cautiously to the stairs and with his -hand on the railing groped his way down. As -he went he grew more accustomed to the blackness, -and so, treading carefully, came without -stumbling or noise to the outer door. He worked -back the bolt, cautiously and slowly, and with a -nervous start at each faint creak, till at last he -could push the door open far enough to slip -through. The grass felt cold beneath his stockinged -feet; the night wind came damp and chilly -against his face. With a shiver that was not all -from cold he drew the door to, more quickly than -he had thought, for the metal work jarred harshly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With a feeling that the whole household must -be aroused he ran noiselessly across the terrace, -and, pausing only to draw on his shoes, struck -briskly through the wet grass toward the park. -At its outskirts he halted and, glancing back, -took a last look at Everscombe, black and silent -under the stars. Only in one window, that of -his grandfather’s chamber in the main building, -was a candle burning, and the thought of the -habitable room in which it shone made the night -seem darker and lonelier. Hugh looked quickly -away, and calling up his resolution plunged in -among the trees.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He had meant to go through to the highway by -a footpath, but the woods were blacker than he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>had thought for; again and again he missed the -track, till at last, finding himself on the beaten -roadway from the manor house, he decided the -quicker course was to follow it. He had covered -perhaps half the distance and was trudging along -with his head bent to look to his footsteps, when -from the thicket just before him came a voice: -“Stand, there!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh stopped where he was, half frightened -for the instant, then half inclined to run, when -an erect figure stepping from beneath a neighboring -tree barred his path. By the long cloak and -the staff on which the man leaned Hugh guessed -it was his grandfather, even before Master Oldesworth -spoke again: “So you are leaving us, -Hugh Gwyeth?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, sir,” Hugh replied defiantly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So I had judged. You are bound for the -near park gate?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh nodded.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You must bear with my company that far.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So side by side they passed down the dark -roadway, till presently the trees thinned and the -starlight reached them. Then Hugh glanced -up at his companion’s face but found it fixed in -so stern an expression that he did not care to -look again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You are going to your father?” Master Oldesworth -queried after a time.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, sir,” Hugh replied. The defiance had -gone from his tone now.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At length the dimly seen roadway ran between -two huge dark pillars, half hidden by the trees; -it was the park gate, Hugh saw, and beyond was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>the king’s highway. Involuntarily he slackened -his pace, and his grandfather halted too, and -stood by one of the pillars, resting both hands -upon the top of his staff. “Then you have the -grace to hesitate a moment,” the old man spoke, -“before you leave those who have sheltered you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh dared not trust his voice to reply, and -after a moment Master Oldesworth continued -slowly: “It is your mother over again. We -reared her and cared for her, and she left us for -Alan Gwyeth; and you—Have you not had a -home here?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, sir,” Hugh answered meekly. He knew -well that the grievances which were so true when -he told them to Lois would be nothing in his -grandfather’s sight.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And what has this father for whom you leave -us done for you?” Master Oldesworth pursued. -“You cannot answer? He broke your mother’s -heart and deserted you—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He is my father,” Hugh replied.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Go to him, then, as your mother did before -you. But mark you this, Hugh Gwyeth: I -received her back when Alan Gwyeth wearied of -her, but I shall never receive you back. Go now, -and you go for all time.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I shall never ask you to take me back.” -Hugh tried to speak stoutly, but his voice faltered -in an ignoble manner.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now consider well,” his grandfather continued. -“When you pass the gate it will be to me -as if you had never lived. Be not rash, Hugh,” -he went on more gently. “Come back with me -to the house; this folly of yours shall never be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>known, and I shall look to your welfare as I -always have. But if you choose to go to that -place of perdition, the king’s camp, and to that -evil man, Alan Gwyeth, I forget you are my -daughter’s son. Now make your choice between -that man and me.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER III <br /> <span class='small'>THE ROAD TO NOTTINGHAM</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Over in the marsh beyond the dim highway -the frogs were piping their lonesome note; the -shrilling call of autumnal insects sounded from -the wayside; of a sudden the waste darkness -reëchoed with solitary noises. All came clearly -to Hugh’s ear in the hush that followed his -grandfather’s words, and with them something -that was akin to fright laid hold on him. Outside -the park gate the world looked vast and -black; he felt himself weak in his youthfulness, -so even the butt of his pistol for which he groped -did not strengthen his courage. He looked to -his grandfather and involuntarily made a step -toward him, but Master Oldesworth still stood -with his hands upon the top of his staff and -watched him but made no sign. With a stinging -sense of rebuff Hugh drew back and held -himself quiet, while he strove to think clearly -and so make his resolution without prejudice. -But all the time he felt that invisible hands were -surely haling him back to Everscombe and with -his whole will he struggled against them. “Will -it be ended past question when I go out at the -gateway?” he cried, almost before his thought -had framed the words.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>He did not even wait for an assent, but as he -spoke stepped out beyond the pillars of the gate -into the rough highway. There he faced about suddenly. -“Grandfather,” he cried, “I—I am grateful -for all you have done for me. Prithee, forgive -me.” The words died away then, for he saw Master -Oldesworth had turned and was walking slowly -toward Everscombe, nor did he once look back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For an instant it was borne in on Hugh to run -after his grandfather, to implore pardon, to beg to -be taken back and suffered to live the old dull -life at the manor house; then the impulse left -him and he was more ashamed of it than of his -previous wavering. Still he lingered by the gate, -straining his eyes into the dusk of the park till -long after he had lost sight of Master Oldesworth. -Once more he became aware of the sad -piping of frogs in the marsh, and he listened -stupidly, while heavier and heavier he felt the -weight of loneliness press upon him. For he -now realized that his decision had indeed been -irrevocable; for all time he was cut off from his -kinsfolk and his only home.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When at last he turned slowly from the gateway -there was no hopefulness in his step nor -did he lift his eyes from the ground, unless to -glance up at the familiar trees of the park that -he should not see again. But at length, through -the branches before him, he beheld Charles’s Wain -shining clear and the bright Pole Star that seemed -to point him northward to the king and to his -father. At that Hugh straightened his drooping -shoulders resolutely and in good earnest set forth -upon his journey.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>The new moon had long been set, but the stars -were bright and the way amid the trees was plain -to follow. A pleasant freshness of the early fall -was in the faint night breeze and yet a lurking -chill, that made Hugh glad to draw his cloak -closer and trudge on more briskly. It was not -long after midnight when he reached the first -cottage on the outskirts of the village of Kingsford; -he had passed the cheery little timbered -dwelling many a time, but now, muffled in the -night, it seemed unfamiliar. As his feet crunched -the gravel of the road before the cottage he -heard the house dog bark within, and a sudden -feeling of being shut out came over him. The -dark houses, as he hurried by them, had the awesome -blankness of sleeping faces; even in the -woods he had not been so lonely as here in -Kingsford, where human beings were within call.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But as he drew to the end of the straggling -village he slackened his pace. The road, ascending -slightly here, skirted the churchyard, where -he could see the light streak that marked the -pathway, and the huddled stones, blacker against -the turf. For a moment he rested his arms upon -the lich wall and stood gazing across the graves -at the dense bulk of the little Norman church, -with its side porch overshadowed by a dark yew -tree and its square tower cleanly outlined against -the starry sky. In the chancel of the church his -mother lay buried. She would have approved -what he was doing, he told himself; she would -gladly have returned to Alan Gwyeth. With -every fibre of his resolution newly braced he once -more took up his march, down the gentle slope -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>and across the one-arched bridge that spanned -the river Arrow. There, with the sound of the -hurrying water in his ears, he paused and took a -final glance at the tower of Kingsford church, and -as he passed on wondered vaguely if he should -ever set eyes on it again, and when, and how.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Beyond Kingsford the road ran once more -through woods with now and again a space of -open land or a retired farmhouse. Hugh gave -little heed to the country round him, however; -he noted only that he had firm road beneath -his feet, the cool morning wind in his face, and -the stars overhead to light him. But the wind -grew chilly and faint with approaching dawn; -the stars paled; from far away across the cleared -fields a cock crowed and another answered him. -When Hugh entered the village next beyond -Kingsford, the sky was fading to a dull leaden -color and he shivered with the cold of breaking -day. Already people were beginning to stir; he -met laborers going afield and from roadside barns -heard men shouting to cattle, and the bark of -dogs. About the little inn there were some signs -of life, so he entered and bought bread of a -tousled-headed woman. Coming out of the house -he saw the eastern sky was breaking into billows -of pink, and a little later the cold yellow sun -burst forth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh munched his bread as he tramped along, -and the food and the daylight heartened him -wonderfully. When the sun got higher he slung -his cloak over one shoulder, whistled for company, -and almost felt it in his heart to run when -he came to an especially even bit of road. For -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>he was his own man now, out in the world, with -his pistol at his side, his five shillings and odd -pence in his pocket, and his face set toward -Nottingham.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Something before noon he trudged into the -great town of Warwick and made his way to a -tavern he knew from his school days. That time -was now a good four months past, so he felt entitled -to put a bit of swagger into his gait and -rather hoped that in his new freedom he might -meet with some of his former schoolfellows. -But he kept a wary eye out for his old master, -Doctor Masham, who, he suspected, might apprehend -him on the spot for a runaway and pack -him off to Everscombe; so he drew a breath of -relief when he reached the tavern in safety. -There he bought him sixpence worth of bread -and meat, and, too hungry to give great heed to -the varied company in which he found himself, -spared expense by eating in the common room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>As his hunger abated he became aware of an exceeding -stiffness in the muscles of his legs which -made him almost wince when he rose again. He -hobbled as far as the door, where a bench in -the sun proved so tempting that he sat down to -rest him just a moment before starting out. Not -only did his legs ache but he found his eyelids -heavy and his head dull, and he was possessed of -a great desire to yawn and stretch himself. He -finally lay down with his head on his arms and -would have given himself up to thoughts of Nottingham, -only an endless line of swaying trees -and dark farmhouses kept sliding before his -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>The next thing he knew some one shook him, -and he heard the voice of one of the drawers -saying, “Now then, master, dost mean to pay us -for the use o’ that bench?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh blinked his eyes open and sat up stiffly; -one or two idlers stood gazing at him with amused -faces, but for the rest the inn porch was deserted, -and the sunlight had climbed above the windows -of the second story. “Why, what’s the time?” -he cried, broad awake as he perceived that.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mid-afternoon and long past,” said the drawer, -whereat Hugh jumped to his feet and walked -away, so vexed at his sluggishness that for the -first half-mile he scarcely heeded the soreness of -his legs.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that his gait grew slower and more halting, -but he set his teeth and pulled himself along, -as if it were an enemy he held by the collar; he -had made up his mind to sleep some six or eight -miles out of Warwick at a hamlet that marked -the furthest limit of his school rambles, and his -plan should not be altered because he had foolishly -slept away precious time. The sun set and -left him toiling along the highway; the twilight -darkened; and the crescent of the moon was riding -low among the stars, when Hugh dragged his -tired feet over the threshold of the inn for which -he aimed. The house was about closing and -there was little welcome for this belated traveller, -but from sheer weariness the boy was past resenting -uncivil usage. He ate thankfully what was -given him, stumbled away to his chamber, and, -almost before he had flung off his dusty clothes, -was sound asleep.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>When he woke the mid-morning sun was -streaming through the window full in his face, -but there was a sharpness in the air of the little -chamber that made him pull the blankets up to -his chin. The poor inn bed seemed far more -comfortable than any he had slept upon at Everscombe; -it took an inordinate amount of resolution -to rise from it, and an equal courage to drag -his shoes on to his swollen feet. But he had -already lost the bracing early hours of the day -and he must waste no more time in coddling himself, -so he took the road at once, as briskly as his -limbs would bear him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sore and stiff as he still was from yesterday’s -long march, he made slow progress; it was close -on midday when, passing through the town of -Coventry, he entered upon the old Roman road, -the Fosse, which he was to follow. The sight of -the straight way stretching endlessly northeast -discouraged him at first, but after a short rest he -pulled himself together and, hobbling on, half -forgot the pain in his heels in the exhilaration of -going forward. It was new country he was now -passing through, for he was no traveller; Everscombe -to Warwick had been his usual round, save -for that one trip into Worcestershire with Frank -Pleydall. Since the last year, when Peregrine -had been up to London with his father, Hugh -had fretted at the narrow range of his journeyings -and felt aggrieved at having made his German -travels so young that he could cudgel up -only scant recollections of them. But now Peregrine -might go to London or Staffordshire or -whither he pleased; Hugh felt no jealousy, for he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>knew it was far pleasanter to be an independent -traveller, bound to Nottingham and a soldier -father.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thus, though he no longer had any wish to -run, he contrived to jog along quite cheerily till -mid-afternoon. Then the low-lying clouds darkened -and a soft rain, striking chilly against Hugh’s -face, made him glad to pull his cloak up to his -eyes. The fields and cottages looked gray through -the downpour, and then all he saw was the broad -puddles of the roadway, as of necessity he bent -his head against the storm. At each step he -could hear the water oozing in his shoes, his -stockings were clammy wet, and his hat brim -flapped cold against his forehead; but as the afternoon -waned he lost these single sensations, and -only knew that from head to foot he was soaked -and numb and weary. Still he plodded on, because -he must hold out till he reached an inn, -but it was at a heavy mechanical pace, while he -counted the steps and wondered drearily if the -march would never end.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Twilight was turning to night when he splashed -at last into a considerable village and stumbled -into the first inn to which he came. There was -a brisk fire in the common room and but one -other guest, so Hugh was free to slip into the -chimney corner and dry his dripping clothes -while he ate his supper. For civility’s sake he -began talking to his companion, from whom he -learned that he was now over the boundary and -into Leicestershire. The knowledge gave him a -childish homesick pang; Everscombe seemed to -have fallen hopelessly far behind him and Nottingham -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>was still distant the length of a county. With -no further care to eat he thrust aside his trencher -and dragged himself off to bed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In his waking moments he heard the rain plashing -softly on the thatch of the shed beneath his -window, and with the morning light he found the -sky still gray and the storm still beating down. -He put out one hand to his coat, flung on the -stool beside his pallet, and felt that it was not -half dried from yesterday’s soaking. Then for a -time he rested quiet again, while he wondered in -half-shamed fashion if he might not lie by a day -till the storm was over. But when he reckoned -up his store of money, he saw he could not afford -to lose so many hours; it was yet more than two -days’ march to Nottingham, and he had not full -three shillings to keep him on the way. He wondered -at the speed with which money went, for -he was new to ordering such matters; hitherto -he had been sure of his three meals a day and -bed at night, and looked upon stray sixpences as -valuable only for the apples and tops into which -they might be turned. He put that last recollection -out of his head as speedily as possible, -ashamed of his scarcely ended childhood, and, -accepting the responsibilities of the manhood he -had claimed for himself, got up and dragged on -his damp clothes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After breakfasting he wrapped his sodden cloak -about him and plunged resolutely out into the -rain. The heavy mud stayed him with clogging -his shoes, but he was now somewhat seasoned for -the march and managed to keep up a pace that, -though not of the fastest, was steady. So he came -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>at length through the afternoon drizzle to the -town of Leicester, which he loyally told himself -was not the half as fine as his own old Warwick. -But none the less he made his lodging there that -night, and he went to bed hopefully; for the western -clouds were showing a faint yellow streak that -promised better weather on the morrow.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sure enough, when morning came the rain had -ceased to fall, and though the air was still heavy -with mist there seemed a prospect the sun might -yet break through. Hugh took the highway in -gay spirits, and plodding along at a stouter pace -than on the day before congratulated himself on -covering such a deal of ground. But by noon he -came to a less flattering estimate of himself; for, -talking with an idler at a small tavern he had -entered to buy his dinner, he discovered he was -now following the Fosse not to Nottingham but -to Newark. Thereat Hugh faced about to retrace -his steps, too vexed at his own stupidity to allow -himself to stop for dinner. His informant called -after him some direction about a cross-way to -the Nottingham road, which he scarcely heeded -at the moment; but afterward, when he was out -of the village, he remembered, and striking across -the fields came into a narrow road full of ruts and -great puddles.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At first Hugh splashed along recklessly, but -presently, when a streak of sunlight crept through -the trees and turned the puddles bright, he let -his pace slacken and little by little brought himself -back to a more contented mood. After all, -he could make up by steady walking what he had -lost, and in any case Nottingham was now less -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>than two days’ journey distant. He began whistling -for content, then stopped, as a rustling in -the bushes ahead caught his ear. He saw the -branches crackle outward, and two men, bursting -through, came swinging down the roadway -to meet him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Recovering from his first surprise, Hugh prepared -to give them the usual traveller’s good day, -but on second glance kept to his side of the road -and walked more rapidly. One of the fellows -was thick-set and well tanned, and chewed a -straw as he trudged; the other, a younger man, -clad like a field laborer, was taller and hulking, -with a bearded, low-browed face. As they came -abreast he bade Hugh a surly good even and -on the word, almost before the boy could reply, -gave a grip at his collar. Hugh dodged back -and pulled out his pistol, while the thought flashed -through his head that running was impossible in -this mire,—and then it was not befitting his -father’s son. Next instant the tall man sprang -upon him and Hugh, thrusting the pistol into -his face, pulled the trigger, then felt the weapon -knocked out of his hand and found himself grappling -with his big antagonist. The man’s fingers -pressed into his throat, he knew; and he remembered -afterward how a smooch of red flecked the -fellow’s beard, as he dashed his fist against his -mouth. Then he was griping the other about -the neck, hammering up at that stained face, and -he heard the fellow bawl, “Devil and all! Why -don’t ’ee come in and help me, Jock?” Another -gruff voice retorted, “If thou canst not handle a -younker like that, thou deservest to have bloody -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>teeth.” Then of a sudden Hugh found himself -twisted over so he saw the sky above him all shot -with black, and he felt a bursting pain in his -forehead. Thrusting up his hands gropingly, he -went down full length in the mud without strength -enough in him to move, even when the tall man -knelt over him and, with one hand on his throat, -rifled his pockets.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here, have back your pistol, master,” he heard -the gruff voice say, and he dimly saw the well -tanned man, with a grin on his face, fling the pistol -down in the mud beside him. Then the two -walked off at their old swinging pace, and Hugh -dragged himself up on his elbow and lay staring -uncomprehendingly at his bleeding knuckles. -After a time he got painfully to his feet and in -mechanical fashion reckoned up the damages; -they had taken his cloak and cleaned his pockets -of money and of everything but the creased letter -from Frank Pleydall and a loose bit of string. -They had left him nothing but the torn and well-muddied -clothes he wore and the pistol, that now -was all befouled with mire. As Hugh picked it -up all the hot anger of the actual conflict swept -over him again, and with some wild idea of making -the robbers restore their plunder he staggered -a few steps down the road. Then strength failed -him, and dropping down by the roadside he sat -with his aching head in his hands. The world -was a brutal place, he reflected with dumb resentment; -even if a man had courage enough he -did not always have the muscle to defend his own, -not even with a pistol to back him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It did not better matters to sit there and whimper -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>so after a time he rose and, still rather dazed -with his drubbing, went unsteadily on his way. -At the first brook he halted to wash his wounded -hands and cleanse the pistol, which he dried upon -his coat as well as he could. The rest of the -afternoon he marched slowly because of the dizziness -in his head, and so the twilight had overtaken -him before he reached the main road and a -village that lay upon it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Close by the wayside stood a tavern, where -candles were lighted and food would be cooking, -but Hugh only gave one wistful look and passed -on. He made his supper of a drink of water from -the public well, and, falling in speech there with -some loiterers, he found he was now into the shire -of Nottingham and not above ten miles from the -town. His heart jumped at the news, but next -moment he was telling himself he could not -tramp those miles in the dark and he grew sober -as he realized unwillingly that he must sleep in -the open. Till mid-evening he lingered in the -village street, then, drawing reluctantly away from -the sight of the few candles that still shone in -cottages, passed on to the outskirts of the hamlet. -After a cautious reconnoissance he crept -through a hedge into a field, where he had dimly -made out in the darkness a stack of straw, in the -lee of which he snuggled down. The straw -rustled with startling loudness at his least movement, -and the earth beneath him was so damp his -teeth chattered in his head. The strangeness of -the place kept him many moments awake, but he -held his eyes shut that he might not have sight -of the lowering sky. Little by little he forgot it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>all and fell to thinking of the last time he had -lain in the open, when he and Sam Oldesworth -had stolen out for a frolic to lie the night in -Everscombe Park. How Sam would have marvelled -at this nights doings! And Lois, only -Lois would have pitied him, like a girl.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he knew there had been a long space in -which Lois and all other remembrances left him, -and he found himself shivering in the midst of -wet straw with gray morning light all around -him. He crawled to his feet and making his -way to the highroad slowly set forth again. He -was keenly hungry with his twenty-four hours of -fasting and stiff with the dampness of his lodging, -but he cheered himself with the thought -that before night he would be in Nottingham. -He would have enough to eat then, and a bed -to sleep in, and decent clothes once more; but -he put aside these creature comforts at the -thought that he would see his father before he -slept again. He wondered what his father would -say, and he planned what he would tell him, -and how he would make light of his long walk -and the hunger and the cold.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His heart fairly jumped within him when at -last, in the mid-afternoon, he saw from a hill a -great congregation of houses and steeples, which -he knew must be Nottingham. He started down -the hill on the run, though his knees were smiting -together with his long fast. He thought he could -keep up the pace clear to the gates of the town, -but a troublesome stone got into his shoe, so -presently he had to pause and sit down under a -hedge to look to it. As he was pulling on the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>shoe again a man passing by bade him good -day, and Hugh, seeing there were houses within -call, so he need not fear a second assault, entered -into talk with him: “Yonder’s Nottingham, is it -not?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“O’ course,” answered the other, proportioning -his courtesy to the state of Hugh’s jacket.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How do you like having a king lie so near?” -Hugh laughed for the sheer happiness that was -in him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ill enough,” growled the other, “wi’ his swaggering -ruffians breaking our fields and kissing -our wenches. Praise Heaven they be gone now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gone?” Hugh echoed blankly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, his Majesty and the whole crew of his -rakehelly followers went packing westward three -days back.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER IV <br /> <span class='small'>TO HORSE AND AWAY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>If Hugh Gwyeth had been a few years older -he might perhaps have cursed his ill fortune; if -he had been a few years younger he would assuredly -have put his head down on his knees and -wept; as it was, being neither man nor child, he -blinked his eyelids rapidly and forced a weak -grin, then asked: “There’s a road that runs west -from Nottingham, is there not, friend? Perhaps -then there is some cross-way from here by which -I may reach it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The man delayed long enough to give full information -about a path, a stile, a meadow, and an -ancient right of way, which Hugh checked off -mechanically. But after the man had passed on -he still sat a time staring at the distant roofs of -Nottingham and blinking fast.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At length he got to his feet and started down -the hillside by the path the man had shown him, -slowly, for all the spring had gone out of his gait -now, and his knees felt weak and shook so that -more than once he had to pause to rest. During -such a halt a sickening fear seized him: suppose -after all he should never reach his father? There -was no danger of his dying of starvation yet, for -he had had food as late as the previous morning; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>but what if strength failed him and he fell down -in the fields or lonely woods and slowly perished -there? That fear still staying with him, he made -his night’s resting-place under a hedge, almost -within hail of a farmhouse. He lay down early -in the twilight, too exhausted to make the day’s -march longer, but he could not sleep for very -hunger. In the first hours of his waking the -dim light in the distant farmhouse gave him -company, but after that he had only the stars. -He lay huddled in a heap for warmth and stared -up into the sky at Charles’s Wain and the North -Star, that were shining clear as on the night -when he quitted Everscombe.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He lost sight of the stars at last, slept, and -woke in white moonlight, then slept and woke -again, and, finding the chilly dawn breaking, rose -and plodded painfully out into the highway. -The farmhouse in the gray morning did not -bear out the hospitable promise of its candle of -the night before; so, sick with hunger though he -was, Hugh went by it without so much as asking -for a drink of water. But a few rods farther on, -when he caught sight of some apple trees, he -crawled through the hedge and helped himself, -then hurried away guiltily and tramped the next -quarter mile so fearful of apprehension that he -durst not taste the plunder. When he did so he -found that the apples were half sour and hard, so -he could scarcely swallow a mouthful, and that -little sickened him. When he resumed his walk -he felt dizzier and weaker even than before.</p> - -<p class='c007'>About eleven of the morning he passed through -a small village, where he met people coming to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>their midday meal. He loitered along slowly -and rested a time by a well in the centre of -the place; it was in his mind to go boldly to -some cottage and ask for food, but he could not -decide which house looked least inhospitable. -While he was still debating, the shameful realization -of what he was doing came over him; he -jumped up and, pulling his battered felt hat over -his face, walked away with something of his old -dignified step. But once outside the village his -pace slackened, as he told himself unsparingly -that begging befitted a gentleman far better than -stealing, and he must now do one or the other.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was several hours later that a third resource -occurred to him: he might trade something for -food, his pistol, perhaps. He examined it carefully -and decided that, though it looked a trifle -rusty, it might serve. In the expectation of getting -food for it at the next town he labored on -more hopefully, but the next village seemed never -to come, for his knees were now fairly knocking -together and his halts grew more frequent and -prolonged. Once, when he had to cross a small -stream, he found himself too unsure of foot to -keep the stepping-stones, so he must splash into -the water up to his knees. A branch sent his hat -into the stream, and, without heart enough left -even to struggle after it, he let it drift away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The sun was nearly set when at last he came -to scattered houses, which he judged must be -on the outskirts of a considerable town. At -the thought of food he stumbled forward more -rapidly, with his pistol in his hand ready for the -barter, but he saw no possible purchaser till he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>came to a small inn. There he found a knot of -men gathered about a side door, so, after a -moment’s hesitation, he ventured into the courtyard. -Country fellows they proved to be, idling -and smoking on the inn porch; one, who took -the deference of his comrades as a matter of -course, had the look of a small farmer; another -seemed a smith; the rest were of the ordinary -breed of tavern frequenters. Hugh paused by a -horseblock, and, looking them over, found little -encouragement in their appearance, yet he was -trying to frame a proper greeting with which to -go up to them, when a tapster bustled out on -the porch and, getting sight of him, hailed him -roughly, “Now then, what brings you here?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh hesitated over to the porch; he had forgot -what he had meant to say and for a moment -no words came to him; then, realizing it was -now or never, he managed to stammer: “I have -a pistol here. Maybe some one of you would—wish -to buy it.” As he spoke he held out the -pistol, but the farmer, the great man of the crew, -shoved it aside and, pulling fiercely at his pipe, -wheezed out something about vagabonds and the -stocks. The blacksmith, however, took the pistol -carelessly, turned it over, and laughed. “How -many men hast killed wi’ this, sirrah?” he asked -in a big voice, and passed the pistol to his neighbor, -who grinned and offered a ha’penny for it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh gazed helplessly at the ring of mocking -faces, then let his eyes drop to the ground, and -with the blood tingling in his cheeks waited their -pleasure. He would gladly have seized upon his -pistol and flung away from them, but he felt too -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>faint and hungry to walk a rod, and before he -could get food he must make this sale. But at -last, with slow sickening disappointment, he realized -they had no notion of purchasing, but were -making sport of him. “If you will not buy—” -he blurted out with weak anger.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is going on here?” a pleasantly drawling -voice struck in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Turning sharply Hugh almost brushed against -a man who had approached from the direction -of the stables, a gentleman, by his dress and -easy bearing. “Will you not suffer me to see, -friends?” he drawled slowly, and reaching out -his hand took the pistol from the man who held it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gazing up at him hopefully Hugh saw that the -newcomer was not above two or three and twenty -years of age, with long dark hair and a slight -mustache, under which Hugh fancied he saw -his mouth twitch as he looked the pistol over. -Then the gentleman glanced up and showed a -pair of humorous brown eyes, which, as he surveyed -Hugh, suddenly grew grave. “Here, I’ve -need of a pistol,” he said, and held out a piece of -money.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was a crown piece, Hugh saw, that would -buy unlimited bread, and meat, too; but, as his -fingers were closing over it, the remembrance of -the twitch in the purchaser’s lips and the laugh -in his eyes recurred to him, and of a sudden he -understood that a pistol which thieves themselves -would not deprive him of could not be worth -even a ha’penny. He had no right to take -money for it, he knew, and in his disappointment -he grew angry at his own stupidity, and angry at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>the brown-haired gentleman for offering him -charity, and angry at the other men who looked -on and thought him a beggar and worse. “After -all, I’ll not sell it,” he muttered sullenly. “Perhaps—’tis -not in good condition.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tis a serviceable weapon,” replied the other.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s worthless,” Hugh maintained doggedly. -“Give it back to me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I’ve taken a fancy to it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Keep it, then,” Hugh retorted, fiercely, so his -voice might not break, and elbowing his way -through the group of men walked off. He could -smell the food cooking inside the tavern, and -hunger gnawed him so savagely that even the -thought that he had refused charity and had not -deceived any one into buying a worthless pistol -could not keep a lump from gathering in his -throat. His step wavered and he had to halt an -instant to lean against the gate-post: out beyond -the street looked lonely and chill in the misty -twilight. Just then he heard the click of spurs -upon the stones of the courtyard, and some one -took him by the shoulder. Even before he heard -the drawl he knew it was the young gentleman. -“Look you here, sir, I cannot take your pistol -as a gift.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>More than one rough speech came to Hugh’s -lips, but he did not utter a word, only shook off -the grasp on his shoulder and without looking up -made a step forward. Then his knees seemed to -give way, the ground suddenly came nearer, and, -pride, resentment, and all, he pitched down on -the stones at the gentleman’s feet.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The other bent over him quickly, and this time -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>Hugh had neither strength nor will to shake him -off. “What’s wrong with you, lad?” There -was almost no drawl in the speakers voice, -“Hurt? Tired? Hungry?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh nodded dumbly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, well! That’s easier remedied than a -broken leg. Up with you, now.” Hugh found -himself upon his feet again, and, with the young -man’s hand beneath his elbow, stumbled obediently -back across the courtyard and through the -little group about the door, who made way for -them. Within they turned up a staircase, and -now he heard the man beside him asking: -“You’ll not refuse to take supper with me, perchance? -When gentlemen meet on the road—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ve no need to make it easy unto me,” -Hugh gulped out brokenly. “If some one did -not help me I doubt if I could tramp many days -more, and—I’d liefer take help from you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Indeed, utter weariness and hunger had for the -moment made an end of Hugh’s dignity as effectually -as if he had cast it quite away at the inn -gate. He suffered the stranger to lead him -into a room and seat him in a big chair by the -fire, where he drank what was given him and -swallowed down some mutton broth, sparingly, -at first, as he was told. He troubled himself -neither to think nor to speak, but he noted that -the dark inn chamber seemed like home, the fire -felt warm, and the candles twinkled dazzlingly. -He found, too, that the brown-haired gentleman -had a kind, elder-brotherly way with him, and -that in private life he dispensed with his drawl, -though his voice lost none of its pleasant tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>“Well, you feel almost your own man again -now, do you not?” his host queried at last.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh essayed a smile in reply.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Wait an hour or so and, if soft answers still -have power with tavern women, we’ll have a good -supper then,—I take it you’ll be ready for it. -And now it seems time for ceremonious introductions. -My name is Richard Strangwayes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And my name is Hugh Gwyeth. My father -is Colonel Alan Gwyeth of the king’s army.” -Hugh spoke slowly as if he liked to linger over -the words; it was the first time he had ever -claimed his father.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you are bound for the king’s camp?” -asked Strangwayes, sitting down on the opposite -side of the fireplace.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh explained very briefly that he had left -home to join his father and had had a hard march, -to which Strangwayes listened with sympathetic -eyes, though when he took up the conversation -again his tone was light. “We are headed for the -same place, then, Master Gwyeth, for I am wearing -out my horse to reach his Majesty’s army. I am -going to join my uncle, Sir William Pleydall—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt he could have hugged the man, he -seemed suddenly to have come so very near. -“Why, I know Sir William,” he cried, “I was at -school with his son. I’ve a letter from him here.” -Pulling out Frank’s worn letter he passed it to -Strangwayes, who stared at him an instant, then -hastily scanned the sheet. When he handed it -back Hugh noted a change in his manner; he -had been kind before with the kindness of one -stranger to another, but now he seemed to have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>taken to himself a permanent right to befriend -Hugh. He came across the hearth and shook -hands with the boy. “I’m right glad we chanced -to meet, Hugh,” he said warmly. “We’ll journey -the rest of the way together. Oh, yes, I can -procure you a horse.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh ventured some weak objection, rather -shamefacedly, for he knew he hoped Strangwayes -would thrust it aside, and he felt only -satisfaction when the young man did so. “Leave -you to come on alone? Folly! I only lend you -the horse; your father will settle the matter with -me. I’ll charge him Jew’s interest, if ’twill content -you. Do you think I mean to leave my -cousin Frank’s comrade to fray out his clothes -and his body along the road?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Afterwards, when they were eating supper together -and the maid who served them had quitted -the room, Strangwayes suddenly looked up and -asked quizzically, “You are well assured there is -no Spanish blood in you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh was quite sure; why had Master Strangwayes -asked? What were Spaniards like, anyway? -Strangwayes drawled on disjointedly for a -quarter of an hour, while his eyes laughed in a -provoking way: Spaniards were fierce fighters, -and their women were pretty, and they liked gold, -and they were proud as the devil, and they were -very cruel, and they had a deal of dignity, and they -grew oranges in their country. “Dream it out -to-night, Hugh,” he advised, as they rose from -the table; but Hugh disobeyed flagrantly, for the -instant he was laid in a Christian bed once more -he was sound asleep.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>He woke in broad daylight, and, having assured -himself that the bed was real, so Richard Strangwayes -could not have been a dream, dozed contentedly -again, and woke with a start to rise and -dress with the unsettled feeling of one who has -slept long enough to lose count of time. When -he went downstairs he judged by the sunlight -that flooded the courtyard that it must be near -noon, and his guess was verified by the tapster, -who was vastly more respectful than he had been -on the preceding evening. Those loitering about -the courtyard, too, eyed him curiously but no -longer mocked him. The only relic of last -night’s dismal scene which he found was a rusted -pistol that lay near the post of the outer gate. -After a hasty glance about to make sure none were -looking, Hugh snatched it up and, hiding it -beneath his coat, sauntered nonchalantly out of -the courtyard. Just across the road was a sluggish -muddy ditch, and into this he dropped the -pistol that had once been Peregrine Oldesworth’s. -Even as he did so he felt a quick pang of regret, -for he realized he had trusted in the worthless -weapon as he never could trust again in the -truest sword or the surest musket.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A bit saddened and a bit shamed at such a -feeling, he retraced his steps to the gateway, -where he came face to face with Strangwayes, -very martial indeed with his big hat and riding-boots, -who trotted up on a long-legged white -horse. By the bridle he led a despondent-looking -gray, which halted with the greatest readiness, -as Strangwayes reined in his own steed and -addressed Hugh: “What do you think of this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>high-tempered charger? Unless appearances are -arrant liars, he is the prettiest bit of horse-flesh -within two league of here. His Majesty,—Heaven -bless him and requite it to his followers!—has -carried away every well-seeming thing -that goes o’ four legs. Here, sirrah hostler, give -the beasts a bite. We’ll do the like service to -ourselves, Hugh, and then the word is, ‘To horse -and away.’”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am ready,” Hugh answered. “But I fear -I have made you to lose time—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Time spent in horse-dealing is never lost,” -Strangwayes replied sententiously; “especially -when the rascal who owns the horse has likewise -a winsome daughter. Now come to dinner.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was during this meal that a new care burdened -Hugh. Now that he was no longer half -starved and near desperate he had time to take -heed to minor matters, and he was keenly aware -of the holes in his stockings and the rents in his -breeches and jacket. It seemed Strangwayes -had guessed something of his thought, for, as they -rose from the table, he spoke out with a half embarrassment: -“Look you here, Hugh, I meant—to -lend you money to get you fresh clothes, -but, faith, the gray there cost a penny more than -I thought, and, as we’ve no wish to starve again, -methinks you must be content to let your new -coat ride away on his back.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis no great matter,” Hugh forced himself to -say. “If you be willing to take the road with such -a vagrant-looking fellow as I.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes suggested, however, that they do -what they could, so the tapster was bribed and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>the chambermaid cajoled, till out of the inn stores -Hugh was furnished with a cap and a pair of boothose, -and a good part of the hedge mud was -brushed off the rest of his apparel. So when at -last he rode out from the inn on the gray horse -Hugh felt himself a very passable Cavalier, for his -covered head greatly increased his self-respect, -and the boothose in most hypocritical fashion -concealed the torn stockings. But had he been -quite out at elbow he felt he would have shone in -the borrowed light of Strangwayes’ completeness, -and would have been content with that or anything -he might owe to his new friend.</p> - -<p class='c007'>That night they slept within the borders of -Staffordshire, and, sparing their horses, took the -road late next morning beneath a lowering sky. -They were headed for Shrewsbury, Hugh learned, -whither the king was marching by a northern -road; they would keep to the south, however, in -the hope of speedily overtaking a scouting party -led by one Butler, an old friend of Strangwayes, -whom the reports of tavern-keepers placed less -than four and twenty hours ahead of them. If -the horses held out, they doubtless would come -up with him in the course of a twelvemonth, -Strangwayes announced dolorously, after a morning -spent in flogging his beast along the heavy -road. It was impossible to mend the pace, so -they forgot it at last in talk, for after his days of -non-intercourse Hugh was but too happy to tell -some one his thoughts and plans; and he felt -Strangwayes was as safe a confessor as a man -could have. So he related his early life, much in -detail, and the intimate reasons of his present -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>quest, and all he knew of his father. At that -Strangwayes’ dark eyebrows went up amazingly -and came down in a twist above his nose. “Name -of Heaven!” he ejaculated, turning in his saddle -to face Hugh, “do you mean to tell me you are -tracing over the kingdom after a father who has -not set eyes on you for twelve years? What think -you the man will say to you or do with you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh paused blankly, assailed with sudden -queer doubts, as Strangwayes thus harked back to -his grandfather’s hints. But next instant the -older man laughed off his surprise and plunged -headlong into a tale that soon ended Hugh’s discomfort. -“Confidence for confidence, Hugh. -Would you hear something of myself? If they -ever put me in a chap-book they can say I was -the unhappy third son of a worthy knight of Lincolnshire. -They put me to school at a tender age,—pass -over that; no doubt you can guess what it -means. No, I did not run from school; mine has -been a sober and industrious life, fit for all youth -to take instruction by. When I was sixteen I -betook myself to Oxford, for my father was too -loyal a gentleman to trust even so poor a piece of -goods as a third son among the Puritans of Cambridge. -There at Oxford I improved my hours -to best advantage and learned to play famously -at bowls, and would have become a past master at -tennis, had not the Scots war broke out. Sir -William Pleydall procured me a lieutenancy—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you have been to war once already?” -asked Hugh, suffering the gray to slacken the -pace to his natural amble. “Tell me of your battles, -I pray you, Master Strangwayes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>“If you’ll clip my title to Dick,” replied the -other. “It sounds more natural. Truth to tell, -I was in but one battle, Hugh, and that was the -fierce and bloodless battle of Wilterswick, here in -this same pleasant Staffordshire. You remember, -doubtless, when the king went against the Scots, -how loath our excellent yokels were to follow after. -Rank Puritans, the most of the levies were, and -worked off their warlike energies pulling down -communion rails and hunting parsons out of their -parishes. We had a choice lot of such spirits in -our troop, and, to put a leaven to the whole lump, -the captain was an Irishman, ergo, a Catholic. -A proper black fellow he was, Dennis Butler; the -same one at whose mess-table we may chance to -sit to-morrow night. This Butler and I took ourselves -to rest one wet night at Wilterswick, and, -faith, we waked to the hunt’s up of a big stone -crashing in at our casement and found our trusty -followers crowding the street before the inn, clamoring -to hang the captain for a Papist. At their -head was a venomous, two-legged viper, Constant-In-Business -Emry,—he was rightly named,—a -starveling of a fellow,—I’d swear he began life a -tailor. Butler had rated him a day or two before, -so he was in earnest, and, truth, the rest of them -looked it. So Denny Butler, being a gentleman -of resources, gathered himself into his clothes and -left by the rear door.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you?” Hugh cried out, “I hold your -captain went like a coward.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, nay, we’d agreed to it; I knew they’d -not hurt me. So I slipped on my shirt and -breeches, and went down to speak unto them. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>They threw stones and other things, and roared -somewhat, but at last I made myself heard; then -I talked to them like a preacher and a father, and -tripped up Constant-In-Business Emry on a theological -point, and demonstrated that I was a good -Church of England man, like all my ancestors -before me. By that they were tolerably subdued, -so I called for a Book of Common Prayers and -read them morning service, then down we all knelt -in the mud of the courtyard and I prayed over -them. You never know how hard you can pray -till you’re put to it. By that Butler was well away, -so I went back to my chamber and finished dressing. -I ruined a serviceable pair of velvet breeches -kneeling in that mud, and the lesson of that is to -go rough clad when you go to war. And that was -the end of my military glory, for the king struck -a truce with the Scots, I lost my commission, and, -as I would have no more of the university, my -father packed me off to London to take chambers -in the Middle Temple. He held the Puritans -should not have a monopoly of lawyers, ‘fight the -devil with his own weapons,’ as ’twere. But I confess -the only court I followed was the king’s court -and I learned far more of dancing and sonneteering -than of the precepts of worthy Sir Edward -Coke. Then my father,—Heaven rest him!—died, -and left me an annuity. I have no liking -for annuities; they encourage a man in the sordid -practice of living within his means. I sold mine -out of hand, and, with a droll streak of prudence, -as rare as strange, committed a round sum to Sir -William Pleydall to hold in trust for me, then set -out with the rest to see the world. I went to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>Low Countries and served a time as a gentleman -volunteer, and then to France, where I learned -some handy tricks at fencing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’re a great swordsman?” Hugh queried -with bated breath. “Did you ever fight a -duel?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“On my honor, yes,” the other replied with a -smile. “No earlier than last April I crossed swords -with a certain Vicomte de Saint Ambroix. The -manner of it? Do you think of challenging any -one, Master Hugh? Why, monsieur the vicomte -chose to speak some scurvy untruths of Englishwomen -in my company, so I did but go up to him -and strike him across the mouth, saying, ‘Monsieur, -I do myself the honor of telling you that -you lie in your throat.’ Which was a great waste -of words. But we fought and he was hurt somewhat -in the shoulder. No, I have no scars, but I -got then a piteous gaping wound in a crimson -satin doublet of mine, which has never healed, as -flesh and blood heals in time. That was the last -adventure, fortunately, for here comes what shall -abridge my story.” Strangwayes pointed before -him where the dusky roofs of a straggling village -showed among the wet trees.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But how came you home, Dick?” Hugh -coaxed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Simply told. I heard there was work for men -of enterprise, and I judged my loyal uncle would -have turned my pounds and shillings into troopers -and muskets, and would gladly give me a -commission in exchange. So I spent what surplus -money I had,—’tis the surest way to cheat -thieves,—and took ship for King’s Lynn. I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>paid a swift visit to my elder brother in Lincolnshire; -he is for the Parliament,—Heaven -and my father’s spirit forgive him! So I mounted -and faced me westward to the king, and here I -am now, and here we are.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The two horses clinked across the cobbles of -the courtyard of the village inn, a hostler ran up -officiously, and the host himself came puffing out -to greet the guests. “Well, friend, what news -on the road?” cried Strangwayes, swinging out -of his saddle. “Has a troop of Cavaliers passed -through here?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The host gazed from one to the other, then up -at the sky, then back at the travellers. “Be you -king’s men?” he finally asked, with mild curiosity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sure, I trust we all be honest people,” Strangwayes -answered dryly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, well, that may be as it may be; I say -naught; only ’tis good hap for you, you lie in a -snug haven to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, what mean you? Are there hobgoblins -farther on?” Strangwayes’ voice dropped -to a ridiculous quaver that made Hugh smile.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Worse nor hobgoblins, master,” replied the -host. “Have ye not heard, then? They do say -a stout band of Puritan rogues are plundering -the country, yonder toward the west of us.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER V <br /> <span class='small'>IN AND OUT OF THE “GOLDEN RAM”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Though the dawn of another day had broken, -slate-colored clouds still hid the sun and a mist -like a fine rain hung in the air; even the white -horse and the gray, standing saddled and ready -in the inn yard, touched noses as if they vowed the -weather bad. Hugh slapped their flanks and -settled their damp manes, while he waited for -Strangwayes to pay the reckoning to the mildly -curious host, but the process proved so long that -at last he mounted into the saddle and ambled -slowly out into the highway. Turning the gray -horse’s nose to the west he paced forward, with -his heart a-jump at the thought that yonder in -the mist before him real danger that tested men’s -courage might be lurking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A gay clatter of hoofs on the uneven roadway -made him turn just as Strangwayes came abreast -of him. At once Hugh blurted out what was -uppermost in his thoughts: “Do you think, Dick, -the host spoke true? Are there enemies before -us? What think you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think there be two whose words are not to -be over-trusted: a woman when she will have a -boon of you, and a tavern-keeper when he will -have you to tarry in his lodgings.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>“Then you believe the host’s talk of Roundheads—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mere words to frighten children. It troubles -me not the half as much as his showing me just -now that Butler must have borne more northward. -Well, let the Irish rogue go hang! We’ll -push on as we are and reach Shrewsbury,—some -day.—Come up, you crows’ meat!” This to the -white horse, whose nose was at its knees.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To-day will be but as yesterday, then, without -any danger?” asked Hugh, a thought relieved, -yet with room for a feeling of grievous disappointment -at being cheated of his looked-for adventure.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes’ telltale eyes laughed immoderately, -though he kept his mouth grave: “You’ll -have all the adventures you need, after you reach -the king’s army. Still, as I have an honest liking -for you, mayhap, if you’re a good lad, I’ll find you -one ere we come thither.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then they fell to speaking of all they would -do, when once they were enrolled among his -Majesty’s followers, and, what with talking and -urging on their laggard horses, they kept themselves -employed till past noon. “We’ll bait -here,” Strangwayes announced, as rounding a -curve they got sight of a tiny hamlet half concealed -beneath a hill. “Then we’ll make a long -stage this afternoon and sleep the night well -within the borders of Shropshire.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that cheering thought they put the horses -to their best pace and clattered through the village -street quite gallantly, though there were none -to admire them, save a flock of geese, and a foolish-looking -girl, who seemed the whole population -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>of the little place. Thus they came to the farther -end of the hamlet, where, a bit retired from the -neighboring cottages, stood a shabby inn, before -which hung a sign-board bearing a faded yellow -sheep. “Golden Ram!” Strangwayes translated -it. “Mutton would suit me as well!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They rattled into the little inn yard, ducking -down in their saddles to save their heads from -the bar across the low gateway, and drew rein -just in time to avoid riding down a flurried serving-maid. -Strangwayes almost fell out of his -saddle, so promptly he dismounted to reassure -her. “You’re not harmed, my lass?” he asked -anxiously, slipping one arm about her as if he -expected her to faint, though, from her fine fresh -color, that did not seem likely. Hugh had already -seen something of his friend’s civilities to barmaids, -so he kept to his saddle and felt rather -foolish, when suddenly the host, a scrawny man -with a lantern face, appeared in the doorway. -At sight of him Strangwayes, in his turn, looked -a bit foolish, and stepping away from the maid -began briskly, “Well, friend, what can you give -us to dinner?” There he paused dumfounded, -and stared, then cried out: “Heaven keep us! -If it be not my constant friend Emry, as busy as -ever! Verily, ’tis a true saying that the Lord -will not see the righteous forsaken.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Lieutenant Strangwayes was always a merry -gentleman,” Constant-In-Business Emry replied, -with a rather dubious countenance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tut, tut! You’re all mistaken, my man. I -abominate merriment as much as I do ale. -Which calls it to my mind I am uncommon dry -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>and thirsty. Jump down, Hugh. We’ll have -experience of a Puritan tavern.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, men must eat,” sighed Emry. “Though -my calling may smack of the carnal taint, yet ’tis -not all ungodly, since—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t trouble yourself for that,” Strangwayes -replied. “Faith, I never thought to surprise you -in so honest a calling.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With that he led the way into the inn, where -he and Hugh dined together in an upper chamber. -The food was none of the best, Hugh privately -thought, but Strangwayes praised it mightily to -the maid who served them, the same they had -encountered in the courtyard. She was a stepdaughter -of Emry, who had married her mother, -the now deceased hostess of the “Golden Ram,” -so she told Strangwayes, and added much more -touching Emry, who seemed the same old Puritan -malcontent of Wilterswick. Soon the talk turned -from him to gayer matters, for the girl was fresh-faced -and black-eyed, so Strangwayes gave more -heed to her than to his meat and drink. Hugh, -feeling more foolish and out of place than ever, -choked down his food quickly, then left the room, -and, as he closed the door, heard a suppressed -squeak: “Don’t ’ee, sir. An thou kiss me again -I’ll scream.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh stamped downstairs and stood glowering -out into the courtyard, where the mist was now -dribbling down in a slow rain. He watched the -grayish streaks it made across the black openings -of the sheds opposite the inn porch, and athwart -the gaping door of the stable at his right. A -wretched chilly day it was, and—why need Dick -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>Strangwayes play the fool because a wench had -red cheeks? When he heard his friend’s step he -did not even turn his head, and then Strangwayes -came up alongside him, and clapping one arm -about his shoulders said in a low tone, “Jealous -of a tavern maid, or I’ll hang myself!” Then he -walked off laughing and disappeared into the -stable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But when Strangwayes came out again some -time later the laughter had gone from his face, -and in its stead was a troubled, angry look that -made Hugh forget his petty vexation and run -down from the porch to meet him. “What has -happened, Dick?” he begged.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, nothing,” replied Strangwayes, and took -hold of his arm, so they paced up and down the -courtyard together, “and yet everything is amiss. -The white horse has gone lame.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is that all?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Enough. Unless you fancy walking ten miles -through the mud and rain to the next village. I -do not.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You can ride my horse. That is, he’s yours, -of course.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Or you might carry me,” Strangwayes answered -soberly. “No, Hugh, neither you nor I -will walk that ten miles nor the half of it, dragging -a hobbled horse behind us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, at worst,” Hugh tried to speak cheerfully, -“we shall but lose a few hours.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, is that all? Tell me this, Hugh: why -did a sound horse go lame in the mere course of -dinner?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then it’s possible ’twas done with fore-thought?” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>Hugh cried. “Perchance they -mean—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hush, hush, you fire-eater!” Strangwayes interrupted -hastily. “If ’twas the inn people lamed -the horse they did it only to stay us here, that -they might profit by our tarrying. Or to hinder -us in our journey, for this knave Emry has no -love unto me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Yet Strangwayes, Hugh took note when they -returned to the house, was merry as ever in his -talk with the lean-visaged Emry. He ordered a -chamber for the night, and then, free to go and -come as he pleased, went sauntering into every -corner of the hostelry, from the common room to -the sheds and stable. About twilight the journey -ended in the kitchen, where, finding Emry’s stepdaughter -at work, Strangwayes seated himself on -a table and entered into ardent conversation with -her about butter-making.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Left to himself, Hugh sat down on the settle -and, poking the fire vigorously, watched the embers -die down and then flare up again, while the -light waned or reddened throughout the room. -Bits of the smoky ceiling and black walls started -into sudden radiance, or the fire gleam was given -back by a copper kettle or pewter plate, and once -the sudden blaze lit up the two who were by the -table. Strangwayes’ face was half shadowed by -his long hair, so only his clean-cut chin and confident -mouth showed vividly; but the girls face, -with drooping eyelids and sober lips that now -were silent, was very clear to see.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh turned once more to the embers and paid -the others no further heed, till Strangwayes came -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>to his side with the noisy announcement that, the -kitchen being a very delectable place, they would -eat supper there. So the maid lit candles and -fetched them food, though she kept silent, even to -Strangwayes’ gayest nonsense. At the last she -brought wine, as he bade, and filling a glass held -it out to him. Hugh, glancing up, left eating to -stare at the girl’s white face, and Strangwayes of -a sudden caught hold of her arm. “What’s wrong -with you, wench?” he asked abruptly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that the wine went slopping to the floor. -“Don’t ’ee tell, sir,” the girl murmured, under -her breath, “father’d kill me, if he knew. But -there be Roundhead troopers,—they come hither -to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>A side glance from Strangwayes checked the -exclamation that was on the tip of Hugh’s tongue. -The girl went on softly: "Father said: ‘He is a -swaggering child of Satan, this Papist Strangwayes. -A shall not go out of the “Golden -Ram” till he goes strapped to another man’s -saddle-bow.’"</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes’ nostrils contracted, but he said -nothing, merely whistled between his teeth. “A -merry fellow your father is,” he broke silence at -length; “he does not deserve to have so good a -lass for his daughter. Here’s a half-crown to pay -for the good wine your floor will scarce appreciate, -and here’s a kiss for yourself. And prithee -fetch me more drink.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>As the girl turned away, Hugh, for all his hot -excitement, found wit enough to say softly: “For -the host’s talk of Roundheads ’twas mere words -to frighten children.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>“My boy,” Strangwayes replied, “if you do not -hold your tongue as to that, I’ll put you on the -sound horse and pack you off to the next village.” -Then his face turned cheery as ever, as the maid -came back with the glass of wine, which he sipped -slowly, questioning her softly meantime: “What -hour will these people come, do you know?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“About mid-evening, I heard father say.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How many?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Only five or six. A grand officer and some -common men. They were here yesternight and -before that.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are there any men in the inn save your -worthy, busy father and his groom?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No others. But they are keeping watch of -the inn gate and the stairs to the upper story.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes drained off the last of the wine, -then rose. “Tell me one thing,” he asked, “is -there any way from the upper floor into the -stable?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Through the loft above the kitchen.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It may chance your father and his man will -be here in the kitchen the next hour; then, if -you love me, lass, keep up a great clattering of -your pans. Here, Hugh, take a brace of candles -and off with you to bed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh went slowly into the common room, -where sat Emry, to all appearances wrapped in -pious meditations, and passed firmly up the stairs. -How the little flames of the candles flickered, he -observed, and how light and eager he felt; yet -there was a kind of foolish trembling in his -knees.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Scarcely within the chamber Strangwayes rejoined -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>him. “Are you satisfied with this brave -adventure, my man?” was his greeting.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh nodded. “I know you’ll bring us through -safe, Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Humph! To do that we need but to slip out -at a window of the inn. I’ve a better plan, Hugh, -if you’ll come in with me. We cannot bear off -our noble white steed and our fleet gray, for to -ride hence is the surest means to fall foul of these -Roundheads. Then say we lurk here and, turn and -turn about, possess ourselves of two of their horses.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s your plan?” Hugh repeated amazedly. -“Why, yes, of course I’ll follow, if you bid. But -you must tell me what to do.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“First, here are the brace of pistols from my -holsters,” Strangwayes answered; “you are to take -one of them. I grieve I cannot make two of my -rapier, but ’tis impossible. Now, note you, we go -to bed—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What do you mean?” Hugh cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, no, no, don’t pull off your coat yet. To -the mind of Constant-in-the-Devil’s-Work Emry -we take ourselves to bed, for we blow out our -candles, save this one, which I cut down till it -will burn not above half an hour. And I set it -where the light will smite through the window. -Now tread softly and follow me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Outside the chamber the corridor was very -dark and still, so that the least creak of a board -was appallingly loud, but there was no other -noise, save the faint sound of a girl’s singing in -the kitchen below. Down the corridor they -passed what seemed immeasurable lengths, till -Hugh’s knees ached with the slow step, step, to a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>point where he felt for sheer nervousness he must -stamp or shout or do something foolish. Then -he heard the faint squeak of a door, as Strangwayes, -a black figure in the dusk, swung it gently -ajar, and he stepped cautiously into a loft, where -a square of fainter darkness at the left showed a -window was cut. After a moment he found it -lighter here than in the corridor, so, groping with -more confidence, he was presently at Strangwayes’ -heels. Right below he heard the muffled -voice still singing words that were undistinguishable. -“That’s a rare wench,” Strangwayes just -breathed. “And here’s the hole into the stable -loft. Count sixty ere you follow, or you’ll be putting -your heels through my skull.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>A long sixty it was, but Hugh counted ten -more to be certain, then, crawling through a low -window that bruised his head, hung an instant -by his hands, while he wondered how far it was to -fall. Just there Strangwayes put his arms about -him and rolled him over into a pile of hay. -“Not above a foot to drop, Hugh,” he whispered, -with a suppressed chuckle, “but an inch is as bad -as a mile in the dark. For the rest of the way I -am sure; I used my eyes this afternoon.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They quickly slid down from the hay-loft to the -floor of the barn, and as they went Hugh found -time, perilous though the moment was, to feel -half shamed that Strangwayes was taking such -care of him, as if he were a little boy. The -lighter square of the opening guided them to the -stable door, where Strangwayes caught Hugh’s -arm. “Briskly now; they may be spying from -the gate. But softly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>Hugh fairly held his breath in the three quick -paces across the corner of the courtyard till he -found the grateful, pitchy darkness of a shed -around him. He smelt the freshness of new litter, -heard it rustle about his ankles, and then -Strangwayes pulled him down beside him amidst -trusses of straw. “You understand, Hugh,” he -whispered, “if we stayed in the stable these -knaves of troopers might mistake us for hay, -when they came to feed their horses, and the -mistake would grieve us all. Now here in the -shed we can lie close till they leave the stable -under guard of a man or two, and then we will -follow the fundamental maxim of warfare and -supply ourselves from the enemy. Unless they -come first to rouse us in our beds. Look you, -Hugh, yonder, that little light, is our chamber. -There, it has gone out,” he added presently. -“Now, when next we see a light in that room, -we’ll know they have gone thither and discovered -our removal, and we must be up and doing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then for a long time there was silence betwixt -them, while Hugh thought of many things and -felt the brave pistol under his coat. He tried to -make out a single star in the misty night that -was around them, and he strained his ears with -listening for hoof-beats, till he wearied of it and -put his head down on his arms. Presently -Strangwayes took him in the ribs with his elbow. -“Hugh,” he whispered in an odd, half-jesting -voice, “have you courage?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In truth, I was wondering,” Hugh blurted -out. Strangwayes put his arm about him as -they lay, and once more many moments ran by. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>Then suddenly Strangwayes whispered sharply, -“Hark!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh raised his head, and he, too, caught, far -off upon the highway, the thud, thud of swiftly -approaching horses, that slackened in speed but -grew louder and louder. He felt his heart -thump shamefully, and, reaching out his hand, -griped Strangwayes’ coat. Then the hoofs -sounded right upon them, and there came shouts -of men and the clatter of horses across the inn -yard. Through the misty darkness shone a sudden -light, against which Hugh could see outlined -the top of the straw-pile. He saw, too, Strangwayes, -with his bare head uplifted, peer out -through an armful of the loose straw he held -up before him, and he heard him whisper: “Six -men, Hugh. Two are officers, I judge. One -of them has passed into the inn. The rest are -heading into the stable.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh pulled himself up on his knees and gazed -out. There were torches in the inn yard that -made a half circle of light about the stable door, -but left the rest black as ever. Men were leading -horses into the stable, and calling and swearing -to each other, so they could be heard even -after the great door swallowed them up. The -house itself was silent as before, but a moment -later, and, even as he gazed, from the farther window -in the upper story a faint light streamed out. -“Curse them! They need not have gone prowling -so soon,” Strangwayes rapped out between -his teeth. “We must make a dash for it. They -are only five against two.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Both were now on their feet among the straw, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>and Strangwayes had made a step to the opening -of the shed, when Hugh caught his arm. “Wait, -wait, Dick,” he panted, the words instinctively -saying themselves, “that’s but a small chance. -Nay, I am not afraid; ’tis only I have a better -way. With my ragged clothes,—I’ll slip my -cap under my jacket,—they’ll think me a stable-boy. -Let me go first into the stable. Perhaps -I can get a couple of horses out into the court. -Yes, I am going.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes gave a glance at the lighted window. -“If you’re beset, call. God speed!” he -whispered, and Hugh ran out from the shed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a moment his eyes were dazzled with the -sudden light about him, then he blinked it away -and went forward. He seemed scarcely to feel -the solid ground beneath him, nor to hear his -own step, for the pounding of the blood in his -temples. Yet there was no fear nor any feeling -within him, only he saw the opened door to the -lighted stable, and he stepped in boldly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There he halted and of a sudden griped at the -side of the door to hold himself erect. For just -before him, saddled, bridled, and all, stood two -horses, a black and a bay, which he had last -caressed in the stable of Everscombe Manor. -Beside the bay loitered a stalwart young officer, -who at his step glanced up and showed the face -of Peregrine Oldesworth. “Hugh!” he cried -amazedly, and the troopers, unsaddling the -horses at the farther end of the stable, looked up -at the cry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt his nerves tingle, but with a calmness -that seemed no part of him he walked into -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>the stable. “Good even, Cousin Peregrine,” he -said quietly, though his voice shook a trifle. -“May I lead out the horses to water?” His -hands closed on the reins of the bay and the -black.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What are you doing here?” Peregrine asked -astonishedly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What I can,” Hugh replied, with growing -confidence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ve come down in the world, Master Runaway,” -said Peregrine, and by his look Hugh -knew he was not sorry that his proud cousin -should groom his horse. That triumphant look -strengthening him mightily, he deliberately faced -the horses about and led them the few steps to -the door. “I’m down, Cousin Peregrine,” he said, -with a quick laugh, “but maybe I’ll be up in the -saddle again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What are you about with the horses?” Peregrine -cried, with a first realization that all was -not well. “Halt, there!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For answer Hugh gave a cry of “Dick!” and -jerking at the bits brought the two horses into -the courtyard on the run. The beasts were -plunging and wrenching at their bridles, behind -him he heard the stamp of men rushing across -the stable,—all in a second,—then a dark figure -had sprung out from the shelter of the shed. -“Look to yourself, Hugh!” Strangwayes shouted, -and helter-skelter Hugh made a spring for the -back of the bay horse. He got the reins in his -hand anyhow and his leg across the saddle, then, -griping the pommel and the horse’s mane, clung -for his life as the frightened animal dashed for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>the gate. Men were shouting and running, he -heard the thud of another horse behind him, the -crack of a pistol, then, as he galloped past the -inn, a casement suddenly swung open. A bar of -light dazzled in his eyes, and for the fraction of -an instant he saw the face of Thomas Oldesworth, -as he leaned out, pistol in hand. He heard the -report of the shot, and then he flung himself forward -in the saddle to save his head from the bar -at the gate.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Now he was out on the highway, the bay plunging -and leaping beneath him, and groping wildly -he got one foot into the stirrup. Just then the -black horse with its bareheaded rider came -abreast of him, passed him, and Hugh galloped -blindly at its heels. Well in the rear he heard -the beat of other horse-hoofs, but he had both -feet in the stirrups now and the reins in his -hands, so he turned boldly into the fields behind -the black horse. There was a dark wall, he -remembered, that he jumped recklessly, and a -stretch of rough ground, where he must hold -his reins taut. There the black slackened pace -somewhat and Hugh galloped up breathless. -“We’ll give them the slip yet, will we not?” he -cried, and then he heard Strangwayes breathing -in quick painful gasps, and saw he sat drooping -forward in his saddle. “Dick, Dick,” he almost -screamed, “sure, you’re not—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay,” Strangwayes panted, “I’m hit.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER VI <br /> <span class='small'>THE END OF THE JOURNEY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>For perhaps an hour the black and the bay -crashed at a fierce pace across the dark countryside. -Hugh had afterwards a confused remembrance -of thickets where he must bend his head -to escape the swishing boughs, of a ford where -the water flew high as the girths, of a cluster of -cottages, black and silent in the night. Cleared -land and highway sped by him hazily, but always -he had the mist in his face, faint hoof-notes that -ever grew fainter behind him, and just before him -the black horse with the piteously slouching figure -in the saddle. Once and again Hugh had cried -out to him: How grievously was he hurt? Could -not he stay to look to it? Each time the terse -reply had come: “’Tis nothing. Ride on.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But the pursuing horses were at last no longer -audible; moment after moment passed, and still -no sound reached them but the echo of their own -gallop. Slowly the black’s pace sobered to a trot, -and Hugh rode up knee to knee with his friend. -“Dick, ’tis not mortal? Tell me,” he entreated.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“‘Not as wide as the church door,’ as saith the -gentleman in the play,” Strangwayes replied, but -for all his gay tone Hugh caught in his voice a -strained note that frightened him; “a mere pistol -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>wound. That knave in the window gave’t me. -Why did you not shoot him down?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twas my uncle,” Hugh replied.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A sweet family you belong to, then,” Strangwayes -muttered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I would it had been me he shot. If he has -killed you—” Hugh gulped out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nonsense!” Strangwayes answered testily. -“Ride on, and trouble me with no more such -talk.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For another long space they rode in silence, -Strangwayes with his head sunk on his chest and -his left arm motionless. Hugh pressed close to -him, lest he fall from his saddle, but he did not -venture to trouble him with further speech. Thus -the breaking day came upon them, as they trotted -through a bit of wet woodland, and Hugh at last -could see his comrade’s white face, that looked -gray in the uncertain light, and thought to make -out a dark splotch upon the back of his coat. At -the farther verge of the wood, where a small brook, -flowing across the road, broadened into a pool on -the right, Strangwayes reined in his horse with -two or three one-handed jerks at the bridle. -“You’ll have to try your ’prentice hand at surgery,” -he said, as Hugh sprang down from the -bay; “adventures do often entail such postscripts.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do not make a jest of it,” Hugh answered -chokedly, and putting his arm about Strangwayes -helped him to climb from the saddle and to seat -himself on the brink of the pool. He still kept -his arm about his friend, and now, feeling something -damp against his sleeve, he looked closer -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>and found the back of Strangwayes’ coat was all -wet and warm. “’Tis here you’re wounded?” he -cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, in the back,” the other replied, with -a half-suppressed groan. “A brave place for a -gentleman to take his first hurt! Draw my coat -off, gently. Now take my knife and rip off my -shirt. ’Twill serve for bandages.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Somehow Hugh mastered the nervous trembling -in his fingers sufficiently to cut away the shirt, -upon which the broad stain of red showed with -sickening clearness. Beneath, Strangwayes’ back -was slimy with blood, and the dark drops were oozing -from a jagged wound in the fleshy part of the -left shoulder. Strangwayes, who was sitting with -his full weight thrown upon his right arm, never -uttered sound nor winced, but Hugh sank down -on his knees, and for a moment felt too faint to -do more than support his friend with his arm.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c016'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘O dinna ye see the red heart’s blood</div> - <div class='line'>Run trickling down my knee,’”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes half hummed, and turned his head -to look at Hugh. His brows were puckered with -pain, but there was the ghost of a smile on his -lips as he drawled, “Why, Hughie, man, methinks -I be the one to feel sick, not you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thereat Hugh set his teeth, and, shamed into -strength by the other’s courage, dipped half the -cut shirt into the brook and washed the wound, -tenderly as he was able, then made shift to bandage -it, as Strangwayes directed. “Well, I’m still -wearing a shirt,” the latter said, as Hugh carefully -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>helped him into his coat, “but ’tis not in -the usual way. You must fasten my coat up to -my chin, Hugh, and pray none note my lack -of linen, nor the bullet-hole in the back. What -a place to be wounded!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The rim of the sun was just showing above the -eastern trees when they started to horse once -more. Strangwayes, leaning heavily on Hugh, -managed to climb into his saddle, and then he -let his hand rest a moment on the boy’s shoulder, -while he looked down at him. “So you are -troubled for me?” he asked dryly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“More than I would be for any man, unless -’twere my father.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’re a brave lad, Hugh,” Strangwayes said -irrelevantly. “I would fain hug you, if I would -not topple out of my saddle if I tried. I thank -Heaven ’twas not you got hurt by my fool’s trick -last night.” Then he put his horse slowly forward, -so Hugh mounted the bay and came after.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They went at a gentler pace now, by the highway -or by short cuts through the fields, for Strangwayes -knew this country well, he explained, from -his old experience in the king’s army. He kept -a little in advance, one hand on the bridle rein, -the other arm limp, and his whole body stooping -a trifle forward. Hugh realized with a helpless -pang that his friend was suffering, he dared not -think how much, nor how it might end, yet he -was powerless to aid him. Once, when they rode -through a village where the people were astir -about their morning business, he begged Strangwayes -to stop and have his wound looked to, at -least have drink to strengthen him. But the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>other shook his head, then spoke with pauses -between phrases: “They’d not succor me for -love, Hugh; we are not strong enough to force -them; and for the rest, I’ve not a shilling to -soften them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What I had was none too much to give that -maid for the saving of our liberty, perchance our -lives. At least, I rate my life thus high.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And that I could be angry with you for such -a matter as fooling with her!” Hugh broke out -penitently.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis for a man’s advantage to be friendly with -all women,” Strangwayes answered in a matter-of-fact -tone. “Had I sulked in her presence, -like some haughty gentlemen I know of, we’d be -tramping the road to a rebel prison now, Hugh. -That knave Emry! I contrived to reach him a -crack on the head with the butt of my pistol as I -rode out, he’ll remember some days.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But after that one burst of everyday speech -Strangwayes lapsed again into silence, with so -slack a hold on the reins that Hugh, coming close -alongside, ventured now and then to put hand to -the bit and guide the black horse. Lines of pain -were deepening in the wounded man’s brows and -about his white lips, and once, as they descended -a steep pitch abruptly, he only half stifled a groan.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So when they reached the next village Hugh -took matters into his own hands by pulling up -both horses before a wayside tavern. “What’s -to do?” Strangwayes asked listlessly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am going to get you drink,” Hugh answered, -and jumping down from his horse entered the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>tavern and made for the common room. There -he found a surly tapster, and, trying hard to be -civil and yet not abject, begged: “Can you give -me a glass of aqua vitæ? I’ve a wounded friend -here—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>To which the tapster simply responded: -“Pack!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh gave back a step or two, and then, with -the feeling that Strangwayes might be dying and -he must do something, however desperate, pulled -out his pistol. “I must have that aqua vitæ,” he -said quietly. “Either you give it me or I go -fetch it. Make up your mind.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Instead the tapster drew away to the door, -bawling for assistance till he roused up another -man and a maid and the hostess herself. Hugh, -with his back to the wall and the pistol in -his hand, felt unjustified and ashamed, but, the -thought of Strangwayes nerving him, repeated -his request to the hostess. She fell to rating him -shrilly for a bullying swashbuckler to frighten a -poor woman so, and, as the men would not check -her and Hugh could not use his pistol for argument -here, she was like to keep it up some time. -Happily the maid, who had peered out at the -window, broke in with a glowing account of the -fine horses and the poor wounded gentleman, -whereat the landlady, after boxing the wench’s -ears for gaping out of doors, bounced over to the -casement. The sight of Dick Strangwayes or of -the horses must have softened her, for after an -instant’s gazing she began to rate the tapster and -bade him fetch what the young gentleman required.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>When Hugh came out triumphant with the -glass of spirits he found the rest of the inn people -gathered about the horses, and the hostess very -pressingly urging Strangwayes to light and rest -at her house. She was but too glad to help a -gentleman fallen on misfortune, she explained, -especially when the gentleman served the king, -bless him! His Majesty and all his men had -passed through there and some of them had lain -in her house only the night before.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then we’ll soon be up with your friends, -Dick,” Hugh urged, trying to speak cheerfully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes just nodded, then drank the hostess’s -health in the aqua vitæ, and with a flicker -of energy bade Hugh get to his saddle. As they -left the little knot of staring people behind them, -he turned his face toward Hugh and, forcing his -drawn lips into a smile, asked: “You raided -those inn folk? You’re learning bravely, my -Spanish Puritan.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he became silent and suffered the gallant -pace at which he had set out to slacken. The black -showed a tendency to veer from one side of the -road to the other, till at last, not above two miles -from the tavern, Strangwayes dropped the bridle -rein into Hugh’s ready hand. “You must lead -the horse a bit,” he said wearily. “I’ll rest me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Of those last miles Hugh kept only blurred -recollections, among which the dazzle of sunlight -upon the firm road beneath the horses’ feet, the -sight of men laboring in tilled fields, and the -smell of moist woods, recurred vaguely. Through -all the shifting changes of the wayside Strangwayes, -as he sat bowing over the pommel of his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>saddle with his pallid face hidden on his breast, -was alone a living reality.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The long piece of woodland ended at last, and -across the fields the roofs of a village came in -sight. To the left horses grazing in a meadow -whickered to the passing chargers, and then the -riders trotted slowly in among the houses. There -was a smith’s shop, Hugh remembered, about -which lounged men in great boots and buff -jackets, and before the village inn were more in -the same attire. Hugh reined up there, scarcely -knowing what he purposed, but before he could -dismount a young man with long light brown hair, -who wore a scarlet sash across his jacket, advanced -from the inn door. “King’s men?” the stranger -asked. “Why, what has befallen here?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes raised his chin a trifle, then his -head sank again. “Who commands?” he asked -faintly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Captain Dennis Butler.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell him, Richard Strangwayes seeks him. -He—” There the voice trailed off inaudibly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh leaned a little from his saddle and got his -arm about his friend. Men were hurrying forward -curiously, but of a sudden they drew aside to make -way for a thick-set officer with a black beard, who -came striding through their midst. “On my soul, -’tis Dicky Strangwayes!” he cried, halting at the -injured man’s stirrup. “Gad, but you’re come in -good time! We can give you a bottle of Burgundy -to crack or a rebel throat to cut—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah, Captain, if you’ll give me a bed, I ask -nothing else of you,” Strangwayes gasped out, and -pitched forward, half into Butler’s arms.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>They had him off the horse and two of the -troopers carried him into the house, so speedily -that Hugh got only a glimpse of his friend’s deathlike -face. He jumped down, intent on following, -but the youngish officer with the light hair, paying -him no heed, walked away and left him to the curious -troopers. They asked him many questions -touching Strangwayes and how he had been hurt, -which Hugh, with eyes on the door by which his -comrade had disappeared, could only answer disjointedly. -Presently a man came out and, saying -that Guidon Allestree had so ordered it, led the -black and the bay off to be groomed and fed. -Still unbidden Hugh followed into the stable yard, -where, sitting down on the shaft of a cart, he stared -at the inn till he knew every angle of its timbered -roof. He realized vaguely that men passed him by, -and one group, loafing near at hand in the shelter -of a shed, he heard talking loudly together. Once, -when they were complaining of the lack of liquor -at this tavern, he was aware that one grumbled, -“No wonder; Gwyeth’s men lay here yesternight.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Even that seemed not to be personal to Hugh, -and he still sat staring at the blank inn windows, -while he wondered to what room they had carried -Strangwayes. At last he could endure the suspense -no longer, but taking his courage in his -hand walked into the house, where, halfway up -the stairs, he met the light-haired man. “I pray -you, may I not see Master Strangwayes?” Hugh -blurted out his business at once.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The surgeon has forbidden it. They have -but just cut out the bullet, and he is too weak to -be worried.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>“Is there—much danger?” Hugh faltered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, very little. A mere ugly flesh wound, -but he has lost much blood and is near exhausted.—Come, -come, don’t give way like that, boy,” the -young man added, as a sob of sheer relief escaped -Hugh. “Your master’ll be sound enough in a -couple of weeks.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh looked up with his face aflame; because -his clothes were ragged was no reason that the -young officer should take him for a horse-boy. -“Will you be so good as tell Dick I am glad he is -recovered?” he said slowly. “And give him back -his pistol here, and tell him since he is in the -hands of friends I have gone about my own affairs.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So saying he went down the stairs and, without -a single glance at the light-haired officer, passed -out into the courtyard. He would not hang about -the place a moment longer, he vowed, but then he -reproached himself for deserting Strangwayes and -had half a mind to go back, when by chance he -caught sight of the same group of loungers he -remembered had spoken of Colonel Gwyeth. On -the impulse he went to them and, questioning -them, learned that not only had Colonel Alan -Gwyeth been that very morning at the inn, but -he was now not above eight miles distant at -Shrewsbury.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that Hugh faced about and took the highway -for the great town. It was not deserting -Dick Strangwayes now, he told himself, for his -father would doubtless let him have a horse and -ride back next day to see his friend, and in any -case he must go forward, lest his father be off to -some other part of the country. So during the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>sunny last hours of the afternoon he hurried along, -scarcely observing the villages through which he -passed nor the men on foot or horseback whom -he met or overtook, in the eager hope at each -turn of the road that he would come upon Shrewsbury -steeples. He hardly felt sleepy from last -night’s long watch, nor stiff with his rough ride, just -eager and happy. When he thought of Strangwayes -it was only to be thankful that his hurt had -not proved mortal, and to be glad that the skirmish -at the “Golden Ram” had happened. For -now he could go to his father, not a raw schoolboy, -but a young gentleman who had been under -fire; he was just a bit sorry he had not himself -been wounded.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But when at length he saw the last horizontal -rays of the sun upon the clustered roofs of -Shrewsbury, his happy mood seemed to end. It -was all too good to be true; once before he had -thought himself almost in his fathers arms and -he had been deceived. He hardly dared ask a -countryman if the king were lodging in the town -yonder, and, finding it true, could not walk forward -fast enough, lest before he came up his -Majesty should move away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Walk fast as he would, twilight was deepening -when he entered the town, but hordes of people—gaping -country folk, sober burghers, swaggering -troopers, gayly dressed gentlemen—made -the dusky streets lively as by day. Among them -all Hugh forced a path, jostled and pushed, and -pushing in his turn. He began inquiring of -those he met if Colonel Alan Gwyeth lodged in -the town, and some had not heard the name, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>some knew such an officer was with the king but -knew not where he lay. At last he chanced upon -a foot soldier who directed him for Alan Gwyeth’s -lodgings to the west gate of the town. Thither -Hugh tramped to search the neighborhood for the -house and get cursed for disturbing people, but -still he persisted in his search, though there would -creep in upon him a hopeless feeling that it had -all been delusion from the first and he never would -find his father.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the end he got a direction that took him -out a quarter-mile beyond the west gate to an -old timbered house that sat close upon the road; -knocking and making his usual inquiry of a curt -servant, he found that Colonel Alan Gwyeth -lodged there. Almost unable to believe it, Hugh -repeated the words blankly after the servant, then -stood staring at him without speaking till the door -was nearly shut in his face. He stayed it with -one hand, while he asked to see the colonel.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He is hence with other gentlemen this evening; -I know not when he will return,” was the -short reply before the door was closed in good -earnest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh still stood on the steps, trying to comprehend -that it was all true; in a few hours his -father, the tall reddish-haired man, would be -walking up to that very door. He would see -him, at last. He went slowly down to the road, -and then paused; if he walked away his father -might come, for the evening was already half -spent. He decided it would be better to wait -there, so he went up the steps again and sat -down.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>At first he had no lack of company; horsemen -went swinging by, and groups of men, some -staidly, some boisterously with shouts and songs, -passed in the road below him. Hugh listened -with ears alert and as each dark form drew near -asked himself if that might be the one. Gradually -as the evening wore on passers-by became -less frequent and Hugh wearied of starting at -each new step. He became aware, too, that he -was stiff with sitting in one position and the -night was cold enough to make his clothes of -small protection. He looked up at the sharp -stars and counted them and picked out those he -knew. Then he changed his position once more, -and fell to thinking how good a hot meal would -taste; he had not eaten food since the supper of -the night before. And he was tired, too; he -leaned his head against the railing of the stairs, -and, just closing his eyes, saw the trees and fields -of the night ride go by, and saw Strangwayes’ -white face, and saw the face of the tall man who -used to carry him on his shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A great noise of talking made him rouse up, -wondering dazedly if he had slept. Somebody -was shouting out a drinking song, and others, -with voices crisp in the chilly air, were disputing -together. A torch seemed to glare in his very -face, and a man, the first of several stumbling up -the steps, nearly fell over him, and swore at him, -then dragged him to his feet with a rough, “What -are you doing here, sirrah?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Rubbing the dazzle of the light out of his eyes, -Hugh saw five or six men about him on the steps, -two with torches, who seemed mere troopers, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>the others finely dressed. “Is—Colonel Gwyeth -here?” he faltered, with a half hope that the meeting -might be deferred a bit longer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here, Alan, this gentleman has commands for -you,” some one called, and laughed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that another man came briskly up from the -street and, shoving the others aside, pushed under -the light of the torches. A man of short forty -years, and but little above middle height, Hugh -perceived, in a velvet suit with a plumed hat and a -cloak wrapped up to his chin. Beneath the torchlight -his long hair and close-trimmed beard seemed -the color of gold, and he had blue eyes that looked -angry and his face was flushed. “What’s to do -here?” he asked curtly, and a trick of the tone -set Hugh’s memory struggling for something that -had long been past. “What do you want of me, -you knave?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh looked up at the flushed, impatient face, -and, stammering to find words, wished it were all -over and these men gone, and he were alone with -this stranger; then he hesitated desperately, -“Colonel Gwyeth, if it like you, I am your son.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Somebody laughed foolishly, and another began, -“’Tis a wise child—” but Alan Gwyeth looked -Hugh over and then, turning on his heel with a -curt “The devil you are!” walked through the -open door into the house. The others tramped -noisily after him; some one gave Hugh a hasty -shove that sent him pitching to the foot of the -steps, and as he recovered himself he heard the -house-door slammed.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span> - <h2 class='c017'>CHAPTER VII <br /> <span class='small'>HOW THE WORLD DEALT BY A GENTLEMAN</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>He could get only a broken sleep, because of a -door that was always slamming; sometimes men -were laughing, too, but the crash of the closing -door was louder still, so loud Hugh woke at last. -“It was all a bad dream,” he said in his thoughts, -with a lightening of the heart that made him feel -like his old self. But next moment his hand -touched the damp boards of the doorway in which -he was crouched and found them real; across the -roadway the dim houses, with the mist that comes -before day hanging over them, were real; and so -was the blank sky. Then all that had happened -last night was true: there was a lad named Hugh -Gwyeth, whose father would have none of him, -who had not a friend to turn to, nor a penny to -his name, nor, except for this cold doorway whither -he had crawled, a place to lay his head. Hugh -sat up and, as if it were another man’s concern, -checked it all off dispassionately.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then a drunken trooper came reeling down -the empty street, and Hugh found himself making -nice calculations as to whether the man’s zig-zag -progress would plunge him into a muddy -puddle just opposite the doorway, or bring him -safely by on the far side. When the fellow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>staggered past unsplashed Hugh lost interest in -him, and began counting the windows of the -opposite houses, that were slowly lighting up with -the dawn. Presently a man on a red horse came -clicking down the narrow way, then two men -helping a comrade home, then a little squad of -foot soldiers under a brisk officer; and after that -townsmen and stray troopers came in greater -numbers, the doors and windows opened, and the -day began.</p> - -<p class='c007'>All the long morning Hugh tramped the streets -of Shrewsbury, aimlessly, for he had nowhere to -go. Everscombe was not to be thought of; even -if he had been at the very gates of the manor -house, even if his grandfather had found it in -his heart to relent, the affair at the “Golden -Ram” would have made forgiveness impossible -to his kinsfolk. Neither could he go back to -Strangwayes, who had lent him a horse for which -his father was to pay; at least the bay would -compensate for that, but he had no right to ask -farther kindness which he could never return. -And then Strangwayes’ new friends had shown -him out of doors; perhaps Dick would not care -to have him come back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With such broken reflections Hugh loitered -through the town, and now and again, in gazing -at the swarming men and brave horses that filled -the streets, tried to forget his miserable plight. -About noon he stood many minutes in a gutter -and listlessly watched a great body of horse -march by. He heard some one say the king was -going northward on an expedition, and he asked -himself if Colonel Gwyeth went too, and was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>troubled an instant till he realized that he had -now no call to follow.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he let all that pass, and thought only -that the autumn air was chilly and he was hungry, -so that though he pulled his belt a notch tighter -it availed nothing. A man must eat, and out in -the world food came only by work, he realized; -and with that he fell to wondering if there were -any labor to which he might turn his hand. A -small knowledge of Latin, small skill with a sword, -and the ability to back a horse,—that summed -up his accomplishments. Hugh told them over -with a feeling that either he had not been equipped -for such a fortune as this, or he had struck out for -himself long before his education was completed. -But if he could ride and handle a sword he might -turn trooper, so, coming in sight of a smith’s shop -and men, one of whom looked a petty officer, -lounging about it, he ventured up shyly and, as -the fellows were in good humor, questioned them -tentatively, if they might not perhaps care to -enroll him among them. They only laughed at -him, and the petty officer bade him run home and -grow. With his hopes a bit dashed Hugh walked -away, but, strengthened by having a purpose, -tramped the town all the afternoon in search -of employment among the horse soldiery. But -those he applied to either lost their tempers and -swore at him, or laughed and chaffed him; and -the foot soldiers, to whom he finally offered -himself, were even more contemptuous. “You? -’Twould need another fellow to bear your musket,” -the last man he questioned answered him gruffly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>That night Hugh slept in the sheltered corner -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>of an alley, and two officers, tramping through at -midnight with a torchbearer, stumbled over him. -One kicked him, the other, glancing at him, flung -him a penny before he passed on. When the coin -fell beside him Hugh did not move, but after the -torch had blinked out of sight he groped his hand -along the damp ground, shaking with nervousness -that he did not find the penny, and, as his fingers -closed on it, almost sobbed with relief. He sought -out a bakehouse at once, and sitting on some -dingy steps opposite waited the hungry hours -till morning broke, the shop opened, and bursting -in headlong he could buy his bread. It went -very quickly, leaving him hungrier than ever, but -he got no more till next morning, when a gentleman -paid him twopence for holding his horse.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He had now given over tramping the town, for -he knew it was useless; he had sought employment -in every troop in Shrewsbury, and everywhere -he had been rebuffed. So the most of the -day he sat on a doorstep and, idly watching the -street and the sky, tried to forget what life had -looked like four days ago. When he was ordered -off the step he loitered slowly out by the western -gate, and, finding him a snug corner in the lee -of a shed opposite a wayside alehouse, lay down -for the night. He was beginning now to get a -realization of what had befallen, as a man who -has been stunned recovers consciousness with a -sense of pain, and he had a feeling that if he -could have cried a long time it would have eased -him, but the hard manhood that had been thrust -upon him would not suffer that nor anything -which might relieve him.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>Toward morning a noise of loud singing woke -him. He tried to sleep again, but the singing -worried him and besides he felt cold and cramped. -He rose at last to stretch himself, and stepping -out into the road saw, sprawled across the doorstone -of the alehouse, a big dark figure that was -yelling lustily at the sky. “Have you come at -last?” the fellow cried, “I said to myself,—maybe -you heard me,—‘Bob, if thou keepst it up time -enough some mother’s son will come.’ Look ’ee -here, lad, you’re to do me a kindness. I am quite -sober, mark you, sober as parson himself, but -somewhat is amiss with my legs. An you’ll aid -me to the stable you’ll do his Majesty a great -service.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There might be a ha’penny at the end of it, -so Hugh suffered the trooper, as he judged the -man to be, to lean on him, and they set out -unsteadily. What with keeping his charge erect -and looking to the rough highway lest they both -go down, he paid little heed to the landmarks, -though once, at a half-articulate order from his -companion, he swerved over to the left and, keeping -a dark house on one hand, walked toward a -dim light. They were just near enough for Hugh -to perceive it shone from an isolated low building, -when an armed man challenged them, but at a -thick reply from the trooper let them go stumbling -on. The familiar stamp of horses was now -audible, the light shone clearer, and at last Hugh -guided his shambling comrade in at the open -door of a stable. On either hand the uncertain -light of a brace of lanterns showed rows of dim -stanchions and tethered horses, before it merged -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>away into the dark lofts and vast roof. In the -centre of the stable the lanterns flung a clear -circle of yellow light, and there four fully armed -carabineers, seated on kegs or sprawling on the -floor, were playing at dice. The sound of footsteps -made them look up, and one half swore, -while another started as if to sweep up dice and -boxes. “Does this man belong to you?” Hugh -asked desperately, for his companion, with his -florid face suddenly turned melancholy, was leaning -against the doorpost and blinked at the -light, but said nothing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, he belongs to us,” replied one with a -beard, who seemed the leader of the party, “the -more sorrow to us.” He threw his dice deliberately: -“Seven-tray-cinque.—Pitch him down on -the hay yonder.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nick, how can you use a comrade so?” maundered -the prodigal, as Hugh helped him across -the stable and suffered him to roll over on a heap -of hay.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Be thankful you get no worse. If old Jack -Ridydale had not shogged off with the troop to -Chester, you’d get the devil for this; he’s the man -could give it you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hardwyn has mind to make himself such -another,” said one of the younger and less assured -men.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Jeff Hardwyn is a cursed better soldier than -ever thou’lt be,” Nick replied concisely, and the -play went on.</p> - -<p class='c007'>None took heed of Hugh, so, after a moment’s -hesitation, he sat down on the loose hay, where -his drunken friend had fallen sound asleep. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>had no call to linger, but the hay was far softer -than the ground of the streets, so he sat there -and listened to the gruff talk of the men and the -click of the dice. At length he stretched himself -out, and, watching the dim lanterns flicker, -he, too, went to sleep.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Of a sudden he was wakened by some one’s -pitching him roughly off the hay. There was -dull morning light in the stable now, men were -feeding and grooming horses, and right over him -stood a shock-headed fellow, with more of the -peasant than the trooper still visible in him, who -demanded, “What beest thou here for?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twas no harm,” Hugh answered, getting up -stiffly; he had meant to walk away, but in the -stable there was at least a roof over him, and he -hesitated. “I can feed your horse for you,” he -ventured.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then run fetch a bucket of water,” the other -commanded. Hugh caught up the bucket, and, -hurrying out into the chill of the morning, found -between the stable and the big house a well where -he drew the water, as he was bidden. After that -he fetched more water, brought fodder, rubbed -down a horse,—it was marvellous the amount of -work that could be found for an extra pair of -hands to do. But, weary and faint though he -was, Hugh labored on bravely, with a special -effort to satisfy Jonas Unger, the trooper who -had first roused him, in which he succeeded so -well that when at last the men tramped away to -breakfast Unger permitted him to follow along. -Crossing an open space betwixt the great house -and the stables, they came out through a hedge-gap -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>upon a byway and scattered cottages where -the carabineers were quartered. Hugh slunk into -the common room of one of these cottages at the -heels of Unger and the man called Nick Cowper, -and there, sitting at table, with white lips and -heavy eyes, found the roisterer he had helped -home the night before. Bob Saxon, as his mates -called the fellow, was past much talk this morning, -and the others were in tolerably good temper, -so Hugh was suffered to take a share of their -rations, which he ate on the doorstone. The -food was coarse, but there was almost enough to -satisfy him, so, in the hope of earning more, when -the men went back to the stables he followed -them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After a time a curt officer entered the stable, -and, ordering the little troop to horse, led it away -to be exercised. Hugh cleaned out a stall and -had some speech with other ragged hangers-on -who made refuge in the stable, but, liking the -company little, soon held his peace and gave heed -only to his work. About noon the troop returned -with the horses all sweaty, and a deal of unharnessing -and rubbing down to be done. Hugh came -forward to take his share and was removing the -saddle from Saxon’s horse, when he thought to -hear mention of a name that made his hands shake -at their task. Pausing to look up, he saw it was -a sunburned man with a twist of mustache who -was speaking: “Ay, ’twas one of the colonel’s -men brought the tidings. The king has surely -taken in Chester.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good news, in truth, Corporal Hardwyn!” replied -Cowper, whom the man addressed. “And -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>we tied here to hammer wit into dunder-pated raw -levies! Ay, ’twas like Colonel Gwyeth to serve -us such a trick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh heard no more for the rush of blood to -his temples; still he could not believe his bad fortune -had served him such a cruel turn, so, when -he had put Saxon’s horse into its stall, he went up -to Cowper and asked point-blank: “An’t like you, -who commands this troop?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is that to you, sirrah?” asked Cowper.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is it—Alan Gwyeth?” Hugh persisted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, hang you!” replied the man, and boxed -his ears for asking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Even as he reeled back with his face tingling, -Hugh found room in his heart to be thankful that -he had told no one his name. These knaves must -never know it was their commander’s son whom -they had the right to knock about. Perhaps the -dignity of his family required that he should leave -the place at once, he reflected dolefully, as he -groomed Cowper’s horse; but, after all, it was better -to drudge for his father’s troopers than to beg -in Shrewsbury streets.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So Hugh stayed on at the troop stables, where -he groomed horses, and cleaned stalls, and fetched -and carried with all the strength and readiness -necessary to please a score of rough masters. -From day’s end to day’s end it was hard, hateful -labor with no sign of release. Once, to be sure, -at the news that the king had returned from Chester, -something that was half hope and half dread -awoke in him, for there was a chance that at any -hour Colonel Gwyeth might come to the stables. -But soon he learned that his father had gone -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>foraying to the eastward, so even that small hope -vanished, and life meant only to work with all his -strength, sleep on the hay, share the troopers’ rations, -and through all endure such abuse and brutality -as they might choose to inflict upon him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was not long before Hugh dropped his old -methods of classification and grouped men in two -great divisions: those who struck at you for the -fun of seeing you dodge, and those who struck to -hurt you. Of the former class was Bob Saxon, -who had a certain good nature about him, though -his horseplay was apt to be rough. He had been -to the wars in Germany, Hugh gathered from the -big stories the fellow told, and for that reason -Hugh felt drawn toward him; at least, Saxon -knew the land where he had been born, and he -knew Colonel Gwyeth. “There’s a man would -take a trot through hell, if he had the word,” he -once said admiringly of the colonel, whereat Hugh -felt a feeble thrill of pride, and held his chin -higher, till Cowper happened along and set him -to cleaning his boots. Hugh considered there -was nothing good to be said for Nick Cowper; -he had an unconscious knack of setting tasks that -peculiarly unbefitted a gentleman, while at all -times he was brutal with the fierce roughness of -a seasoned campaigner, who struck to hurt. To -be sure, no malice seemed behind his brutality; -it was merely his way of reducing command to -terms of the senses, but that gave small remedy -to Hugh’s skin or to his wounded dignity, when -Cowper sent him stumbling about his work with -his lip cut or his nose bleeding.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Hugh was to learn there were rougher -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>dealers even than Cowper, when he came into conflict -with Jeff Hardwyn, the corporal. He was -one who seldom lifted his hand against any man, -but when he ordered the troopers obeyed; and -Hugh, with a feeling that he must not get the -fellow’s ill-will, jumped to do his bidding and -called him “sir.” But, for all these poor defences, -he at last fell under the corporal’s displeasure, by -such trivial happenings that even looking back he -did not understand how it had come to pass. -There had been a day of heavy rains that turned -the roads to mud, in the midst of which Unger -sent Hugh tramping through Shrewsbury in quest -of a man he was not able to find. When the boy -returned late in the afternoon, drenched and tired, -he discovered the whole errand had been a mere -hoax for the diversion of Unger and Saxon and -the half-dozen others who were loafing in the dry -stable. “Next time, pray you take a fair day to -be witty,” Hugh said, trying not to show temper, -and was starting out to forage hungrily for dinner -when Hardwyn bade him stop and tighten a buckle -on his saddle girth. Pulling off his coat, Hugh -turned to the job, which he found harder than he -thought, so he did it hastily, then ran out to seek -his dinner, and, for his late coming, got none at all.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But when he splashed wearily back to the stable -he suddenly forgot all the petty misadventures of -the luckless day, for over by the stalls Hardwyn -was standing with his brows drawn together ominously. -“Can you not tighten a buckle better -than that?” he asked, and tapped the saddle at -his feet with the toe of his boot.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I did it as well as I knew, sir,” Hugh replied.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>“Well, I’ll learn you to do it better next time,” -said Hardwyn without temper, and crossing the -stable picked up a heavy horsewhip.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh thought that the heart had gone out of -his body, so weak and empty of strength did he -feel. He had been whipped many times, at school -and at Everscombe, but he knew this would be different, -and he was half afraid, yet he did not run. -Indeed, when Hardwyn took him by the neck of -his shirt, he looked up and said quietly, “I am -not going to run away.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I’ll wager you’re not,” Hardwyn answered, -and brought the whip stinging down across his -back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh heard his shirt rip in the grasp on his -neck, and he felt a foolish concern over it; he saw -the loose spears of hay scattered on the dingy -floor at his feet; and he wondered why, since he -had not meant to struggle, he had twisted up one -arm and griped Hardwyn’s wrist that held him. -He knew that he was counting the blows, eleven -so far, but he durst not open his lips lest in spite -of himself he cry out. Were the cuts of the whip -bringing blood, he wondered? He did not hear -the strokes, but he counted them by feeling; at -first each had seemed distinct and left a lingering -smart, but now his whole back was wincing and -quivering. He heard Hardwyn draw a deep -breath and for a second hoped he might stop, but -there came another slash of the whip. Then, of -a sudden, it was borne in on him that Hardwyn -meant to flog him till he cried. Hugh set his -teeth tight on his lip and only thought, “I will not, -I will not,” and felt the whip-cuts, nothing more, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>till the floor seemed blurry and came nearer, and -his shirt ripped again. Then he heard Saxon’s -voice: “Don’t kill the lad, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Curse his stubbornness!” Hardwyn panted -out, and then there were other blows of which Hugh -kept no count. He only knew that at the last he -found himself free to reel over against the boards -of a stall, and, without glancing at the other men -around them, he looked up into Hardwyn’s flushed -face a long minute. Then, still keeping hold on -the stall, he made a step toward the door, but -Hardwyn picked up the saddle and flung it down -before him. “Mend that aright now,” he ordered, -“and, harkee, if ever you bungle another piece of -work like that, I’ll flay you alive.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Without a word Hugh took up the saddle and -tightened the buckle. His fingers shook, he -noted, and once, when he put his hand to his -mouth, he felt his lip was bleeding where he had -bitten it. But he had not cried or spoken, nor -would he; when the saddle was put to rights he -flung it over its peg, and, still keeping silence, -walked out of the stable toward the highway.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So long as he was in sight of the men he -walked with tolerable erectness, but he knew it -could not last long and he must get away from -every one, so he struck across the road into the -fields. There he turned eastward on a course -that would finally bring him round Shrewsbury -to the main highway. For eastward lay the village -where he had left Strangwayes; Dick would -protect him, he knew, and yet he knew he was -not going to him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>As well walk eastward as another way, though, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>but he ached from head to foot and his back -throbbed painfully; so at last, on a bleak hilltop, -he sat down to rest, and watched the twilight -close in. A little below him he could see the -dim roofs of Shrewsbury and the purpling sky -above. The western star came out first, and, as -the night darkened, many more showed till he -lost count of them and turned his eyes to the -lights of the town. As he gazed thither he -caught, clear and vibrant on the still air, the note -of a bell. On the instant the foolish old tale of -Dick Whittington came back to him: “Turn -again, turn again.” Then he remembered how -Lois and he had spoke together the day before -he set out from Everscombe; and, when he had -hoped for Whittington’s fortune, she had answered -that his father would be glad to see him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Of a sudden Hugh found himself lying face -down in the wet grass of the hillside with his fingers -digging into the turf. If he were only dead, now -while he still possessed some shred of self-respect! -He could not go on living, a mere horse-boy, -everybody’s drudge, with his highest hope to be -some day a swaggering private trooper, and then -to be knocked on the head in a petty skirmish. -It was so piteously different from the soldierly -life he had planned, but he did not ask for that -now, only not to be bullied and flogged any -more.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then that mood passed, and he knew only that -he was cold in his torn shirt and his back was -sore so he was loath to move. But the cold at -last forced him to his feet and set him pacing up -and down the wet grass; he still loved life enough -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>to exert himself to keep it. Then he began to -realize that, after all, he had acted like a child. -Was this life so much less endurable than that -at Everscombe? Was it worse to earn his living -of a gang of brutal troopers than be dependent -on grudging relatives? If he did get more blows, -a man must not whimper for that, and he was -now a man. Neither must a man go crying to -his friends; rather the thing that best befitted a -gentleman was to accept the life he had taken up -and go on bravely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So, in the early hours of the morning, Hugh -Gwyeth faced westward and tramped back to the -stables. Reaching there about dawn, he walked -in as usual, and taking up a bucket, went to draw -water. He had a curious sense of not feeling -ashamed nor abashed, as he thought to feel when -facing the men once more, but rather proud of -himself and of more dignity than ever. He had -no hope, however, of being a hero in the sight -of the troopers. Some of them chaffed him over -his beating and his slinking back again. “You -wanted more of the same, did you?” Hardwyn -asked dryly, whereat the others laughed. Saxon -chaffed him too; but later, when Hugh came to -the cottage for breakfast, he asked him roughly -if the whip had drawn blood, and then he helped -the boy to wash off his hurt back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>By next day every one had forgotten that Hardwyn -had flogged him, and life went on in its old -course. Only Hugh took it now as an accepted -thing; there was no escape, so he would make -the best of it, do as he was bidden, dodge what -blows he could, and, what he could not dodge, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>bear without flinching. He even contrived, so -long as he could busy himself about the horses, -to find a sort of negative pleasure in the life. -To groom and feed and water the great, friendly -animals did not seem menial, but this made only -a part of the day’s routine, and Hugh’s pride -could not yet stoop willingly to cleaning boots -and fetching beer. The last was the most humiliating -employment of all; though he might reconcile -himself to slipping into an obscure corner -and cleaning the boots of a man who was older -than he and a better soldier, he felt that to tramp -a quarter-mile on the highway with a brace of jugs -and fetch bad beer from an alehouse for a crew -of peasant troopers could never befit a gentleman.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Late of an October afternoon he was trudging -back to the stable from such an errand, when he -met a gay company of horsemen and, to save being -trampled on, halted at one side of the road -till they should pass. By chance he glanced up -and among the riders saw one very young gentleman -with yellow curls, who wore a fine blue -velvet suit and a big hat, and bestrode a dainty -roan mare. Hugh caught his breath and looked -again, then dodged headlong back from the road, -in behind a cottage out of sight. Halting there -a moment he instinctively looked himself over,—ragged -shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the -shoulders, ragged breeches stained with mud, -half-worn boothose, and shoes that were falling -to pieces. He wondered if Frank Pleydall, in -his fine clothes, on his good horse, had recognized -him, and he thought it unlikely. With a -foolish dread of a second encounter he made his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>way back to the stable through the fields; the -going was rough, and he now perceived much of -the beer had slopped out of the jugs. “I shall -be flogged for that,” he told himself, and, with -something that was not jealousy but hurt him -keenly, he wondered if Frank Pleydall knew what -a happy lad he was.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But, much as he expected it, Hugh did not get -a flogging; for when he came into the stable yard -he found strange horses standing there, and two -or three troopers he did not know, and his own -acquaintances looked energetic and on good behavior, -so much perturbed they did not even rate -him about the beer. “The colonel is back from -the eastward,” Unger explained, “and Corporal -Ridydale is on our shoulders again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He’ll send you packing,” Cowper spoke cheerfully -to Hugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then Saxon, riding in, called to Hugh to -groom his well-bespattered horse, so the boy, eager -though he was to hear more, must walk away with -the beast to the open floor of the stable, where he -fell to work. It darkened and lanterns were lit; -one was hung from a stanchion, and just beneath -Hugh saw a stranger standing, a tall, thickset man -of middle age with a heavy beard, who seemed to -have an eye for all the business of the stable, and -at whose word men moved to obey, even more -readily than they did for Hardwyn. He must be -John Ridydale, Hugh decided, so he got Saxon’s -horse betwixt them, and, working briskly, hoped -he might not be noticed. But presently Ridydale -stopped giving orders, and Hugh, getting uneasy -at his silence and looking sidewise at the man, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>found he was gazing at him with his brows drawn -together. Hugh feigned to be very busy with -the horse, but the currycomb moved unsteadily -in his hand, while he waited, and wondered if -Ridydale would kick him out of the stable at once -or let him stay long enough to get his supper. -Then he heard a heavy step and, looking up and -finding the corporal beside him, drew back a pace -warily; but the other griped him by the shoulder -with a sharp, “What’s your name, lad?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What else?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing else, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh had his arm half raised to shield his head, -but Ridydale did not strike at him, only said with -something strangely like kindliness, “Come outside -here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There were horses at the trough by the door, -Hugh noted, and through the stable yard a twilight -mist, in which the cottage lights looked -blurry, was shutting down. They had drawn -away from any stray troopers, and now, right by -the hedge, Ridydale, with his grasp still on Hugh’s -shoulder, halted him and asked, “The rest of the -name mightn’t be Gwyeth, perhaps, master?”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER VIII <br /> <span class='small'>THE INTERPOSITION OF JOHN RIDYDALE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>It shamed Hugh afterward to remember how -overwhelmingly, at that first dim prospect of relief, -the realization of his friendlessness and degradation -came over him, till not even sufficient -spirit was left in him to make his usual evasions. -“Yes, I am Hugh Gwyeth,” he answered simply; -“I am the colonel’s son.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he felt the sharp sting of twigs across his -face, as he pressed his head upon his folded arms -against the yielding hedge, and his breath came -stranglingly for a great lump that had gathered in -his throat and was near choking him. Ridydale -was patting him on the shoulder, he knew, and -he heard him say: “Come, come, master, don’t -go play the woman now. ’Tis all well, I tell you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that Hugh lifted his head from his arms. -“Did my father send you to seek me?” he asked, -eagerly, as the griping feeling in his throat would -let him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ridydale hesitated a moment. “I’ll wager he’ll -be glad enough that I have found you, sir,” he said -at length. “For now, get you over to the cottage -where the light shows yonder and bide till I come.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But Saxon’s horse,”—Hugh’s long drill in -stable duty made him protest.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>“Hang the horse and Bob Saxon, too!” growled -Ridydale, with an expletive or so. “A pretty trade -for your father’s son to turn a hand to!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Still muttering, he strode back to the stable, -while Hugh obediently made his way, by the -hedge-gap and the well-trodden path, to the -farthest of the cluster of cottages that quartered -the troop. By virtue of his coming from Corporal -Ridydale he was suffered to enter the low-studded -living room and sit down on a stool in -the chimney corner. It was a poor smoky room, -but with the fire and candle it was warmer and -brighter than the stable, and there was a home-likeness -about the children sprawling on the -hearth, the woman cooking pottage at the fire, -even about her stolid peasant husband, that made -Hugh content to sit in a kind of open-eyed drowse -and watch them. In these hours of negative comfort -the whole burden of responsibility seemed -slipped from him, and he neither thought nor -vexed himself with anticipation, only waited for -Ridydale.</p> - -<p class='c007'>All save the cottager’s wife had packed to bed -in the loft before the corporal returned. Hugh -heard him outside, rating some unknown trooper -with bullying volubility, and then he came in, -grumbling about the mismanagement of Hardwyn, -who in his absence had got the men out of -all conceit of obedience. By the time they sat -down to supper he had almost calmed himself, -however, and was kindly spoken to the woman -who attended them and brusquely civil to Hugh, -who after his vagabond period felt ill at ease, -even at so poor a board. Ridydale noted all that, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>and apparently he had made inquiries too, for -when they were left alone at table he spoke out, -half angrily and half sorrowfully, “So you’ve -been drudging in the stables ever since that -night, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There was nothing else to do,” Hugh answered, -and took another piece of bread, with a comfortable -sense that he could have all he wanted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twas hard to think at first it could be the -colonel’s son,” Ridydale went on, “though I was -on the watch for you. I heard of that blockhead -Rodes,—he who bore the colonel’s torch that -night—how you came unto him. Rodes told it -for a jest the colonel’s comrades would put upon -him, but I that had been with him nigh twenty -years, I had a shrewd doubt there might be some -truth lay at the bottom of it. So I took it on -myself to make search, so soon as we returned to -Shrewsbury. Lord save me, sir, when I used to -see you, there where we were in Lower Saxony, -such a well-favored little rascal, I never thought -to come upon you currying horses for your -father’s men.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You were in Germany?” Hugh asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where the colonel has been I have been, -these twenty years. I went as his man when he -first crossed to the Low Countries—a proper -young soldier he was! Then I was back with -him in Warwickshire, seventeen years agone; it -seems longer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then—you knew my mother?” Hugh asked, -pushing aside his trencher.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, Mistress Ruth Oldesworth, and a gallant-spirited -young gentlewoman she was. To leave -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>her knave kinsfolk so, for love o’ the colonel! -And she was that kind spoken to all of us that -followed him. Faith, a man could nigh forgive -her, even for deserting the colonel so.” -Hugh broke out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh rumpled the hair back from his forehead, -while he strove to grasp the significance of this -new information. He realized that these last -weeks there had been in his heart an unphrased -feeling that his father was cruel, and his mother -must have suffered much, just as he was suffering. -Once he had held both parents something -nobler than human creatures; and latterly his -mother had seemed more than ever a saint, and -his father an utter wretch; but now, what was he -to think? -Ridydale -spoke presently. -Hugh replied, and snuffed the candle -with his fingers a moment, then broke out: -Ridydale thoughtfully eyed the fire smouldering -on the hearth, and tousled his beard with one -hand.he began at length. “They were both very -young and high-tempered, and he would have his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>pleasure. He was stubborn, though I grudge to -say it of him, and she was not over-patient. -There was words betwixt them, and that same -day our troop was sent foraying southward and -he did not even take leave of her. But he faced -the troop about ere the sennight were over and -brought us home at a gallop. And when he -came to quarters she had taken you and gone for -England. He never said word of it, even to me, -save, ‘She might ha’ left me the lad; he was as -much mine as hers.’”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then—he did have some care for me once?” -Hugh asked; he was keeping his face turned -toward the fire, away from his companion.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh smiled at the fire, rather tremulously; -it was dawning upon him that Ridydale, for all -his formal respect and kindness, was disappointed -that he did not bear out the promises of his babyhood, -and he had a doleful feeling that in the -same way Colonel Gwyeth, too, would always be -disappointed in him. -Ridydale -began again, “and joined ourselves unto King -Gustavus. For the colonel would not make a -start to follow his lady; perhaps ’twas stubbornness, -but he had no word of her since she quitted -Germany, and he was too proud to go a-begging -to her, so we just stayed on in the Swedish army. -Once—’twas the year we fought at Wolfenbüttel—there -came a gentleman volunteer from England -with tidings out of Warwickshire, and so we -learned that she was dead.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>Hugh blinked at the fire and made no answer. -Ridydale mused aloud. -Then, as Hugh still kept silent, Ridydale suggested -they get to bed, and led the way up the -steep ladder to the loft. There were two pallets -in Ridydale’s rough chamber, and Hugh wondered -impersonally, as he lay down on one, what trooper -the corporal had violently dispossessed of his -quarters to make room for him. At the foot of -the pallet, in the sloping roof, was a small window, -through which Hugh found, after the candle was -out, he could see five bright stars and a patch of -purple-black sky. He lay staring at the stars and -saw no meaning in them, for thinking busily to -himself and trying to comprehend that his parents -had been neither all good nor utterly depraved, -but just frail everyday human creatures, whom he -must love and bear with for their humanness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Next morning he awoke of his own accord, without -being kicked, and, finding the room empty -and a sunbeam coming through the little window, -rose up and went briskly below stairs. Late -though he was, the woman gave him all the breakfast -he wanted, and then force of habit took him -over to the stable.Saxon -greeted him, and the other men merely pestered -him with questions but gave him no blows.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With a feeling that it was not yet time to proclaim -his identity to all, Hugh answered evasively, -and then, because it was irksome to be idle, he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>watered one of the horses, and, as Unger had bidden -him the day before, began patching up a headstall. -He was sitting on a keg, fumbling with a -refractory buckle, when Ridydale bore down upon -him with a fierce, -Arguing that if he were still a stable-boy Ridydale -had the right to command him, and if he -were a gentleman Ridydale’s friendliness had -given him the right to make requests, Hugh laid -aside the headstall and went meekly back to the -cottage, where till dinner time he lounged ingloriously -on the doorstone. After the noon meal -Ridydale, very sullen and wrathful, beckoned him -outside and rated him, respectfully but severely. -“’Tis not becoming a gentleman like you to fetch -and carry for those dogs of troopers,” he explained. -It was so ludicrously like the view of what befitted -a gentleman which up to a fortnight ago he -himself had held that Hugh could not help smiling. -“Methinks ’tis not what a gentleman does but -how he does it makes the disgrace,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ridydale shook his head and looked dubious, -then, coming apparently to a better temper, changed -the subject by offering to lend Hugh money with -which to buy fresh clothes. “The colonel will be -here to-night,” he concluded, “and I’ve a plan to -wait a good-natured moment and tell him of you. -I’m thinking he’ll ask to see you, and you should -not come before him in such rags as these.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Hugh had had enough of borrowing on -the chance of Colonel Gwyeth’s making repayment, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>and he refused the loan; if the colonel -chose to provide for him, he reasoned to himself, -he need wear his rags but few hours longer; and -if the colonel rebuffed him again he would liefer -have rags than whole clothes and a debt to so -short-pursed a man as a corporal of carabineers. -Ridydale fairly let slip his self-control at the boy’s -obstinate refusal. “If ’twere not for your red -hair and your trick of setting your lips together, -I’d doubt if you were a Gwyeth,” he broke out at -last, and marched away to the stables in some -temper.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Whereat Hugh felt angry, then grew thoughtful, -and, reflecting that the man, for all his -arbitrary ways, had treated him with real kindness, -wondered if he might not have somewhat -tempered his refusal. So, when he next saw -Ridydale, at supper, he tried to talk him into -good humor by questioning him of his father, -which much mollified the corporal, and then of -the troop, and finally of the progress of the war. -It seemed Colonel Gwyeth’s force had shared -with Sir William Pleydall’s troop some brisk -skirmishing about Worcester; Hugh wondered if -Frank had had the good fortune to be present, -and sought to get news of the Pleydalls from -Ridydale, who, when he learned Hugh had acquaintance -with such gentlemen, looked a trifle -more favorably upon him. The boy was sorely -tempted to tell him the story of Dick Strangwayes -and the skirmish at the “Golden Ram,” but, -after all, that was a kind of self-glorification that -would become Bob Saxon better than Hugh -Gwyeth. So he held his peace, and was thankful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>that he had got Ridydale into a mood where, if -he still esteemed him rather a weak-spirited fellow, -he did not utterly despise him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But early as next morning it was Hugh’s ill -luck to destroy whatever good impression he had -made. Having risen late, he had fetched a bucket -of water up to the chamber, and, stripped to the -waist, was bathing himself with much splashing, -when Ridydale unexpectedly came in. “The -colonel has granted to speak with me ere noon,” -the corporal announced his business at once, “so -you shall speedily—” There he paused, looking -sharply at Hugh, who stood sidewise toward -him, then strode over to the boy. “How got -you those fresh scars on your back?” he demanded.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No matter,” answered Hugh, facing hastily -toward the speaker.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ridydale took him unceremoniously by the -shoulders, and turned him round. “’Twas done -with a whip!” he burst out. “What means this? -Have you been flogged?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” Hugh replied. “Now have the goodness -to take your hands off me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Was it done here at the stables?” Ridydale -persisted. “Answer me, master.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you look for me to turn tale-bearer?” -Hugh retorted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I look to cut some combs for this,” Ridydale -stormed. “Though you lack in spirit you bear -your father’s name, and for that they that misuse -you shall answer—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I pray you, let it all go,” Hugh interrupted. -“I have suffered no harm—”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>Ridydale stamped his foot down on the floor. -“Harm, quotha! Why, you might be a brat out -of the kennel for all the shame you take from it. -Tell me, what can befall a man of gentle birth -that’s worse harm than to be banged by a pack of -knaves?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh busied himself in pulling on his shirt, -and made no reply.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, ’tis time the colonel took you in hand,” -Ridydale blustered. “You need to be taught -what befits a gentleman.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he went noisily out of the room, and -Hugh heard him clatter down the ladder from -the loft. Looking out at the little window he -saw Ridydale head for the stables, and he hoped -the man might not make inquiries there or bring -any one into disgrace for what had befallen. -Then, as he turned back to finish dressing, a new -alarm seized Hugh: what if the corporal, in his -irritation, should refrain from speaking for him -to Colonel Gwyeth? But next moment he had -quite accepted the thought; indeed, he seemed -all along to have half suspected some miscarriage -would destroy his faint hope of the last few hours. -It would only be of a piece with all that happened -to him since he set out from Everscombe.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So, on the whole, he was surprised when about -an hour later the cottager’s wife knocked at his -door with the news that a trooper was below, -come to take him before the colonel. No, he -was not excited, Hugh told himself, for he cared -not what the issue might be; he had twice gone -so eagerly to meet his father, and each time -been so bitterly disappointed, that now, whatever -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>good fortune might be before him, it could awake -in him no fresh anticipation. Yet, for all that, -he came down the ladder rather briskly, and, -when he found himself actually setting forth to -Colonel Gwyeth’s quarters, felt a thrill of something -like apprehension.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The bit of walk up the byway and along the -main road to the great house, the back of which -Hugh knew so well from his stable days, ended -all too soon. Still repeating to himself that he -did not care, he was not frightened, Hugh followed -the trooper through the doorway; and then -the door had closed, he was left alone in a dim -back room, and suddenly he realized that in sober -truth he was near to trembling with nervous dread. -He was afraid of that flushed, red-haired man who -had publicly rejected him; he was afraid of his -roughness and more afraid of his tenderness, and -if it had not been for shame at running away so -ignominiously he would have bolted out of the -house. Since that was not to be thought of he -sat down on the window-seat and studied the -dead leaves and withered flower-stalks of a strip -of garden outside. Then he looked about the -room and counted the oak panels in the walls -and the diamond panes in the windows, but after -all his eyes strayed to the door opposite, by which -his guide had left him, and he found himself -listening to the subdued hum of men’s voices -that sounded within. Once a single voice rose -choked and impatient, and immediately after feet -scurried down the passage outside the entrance -door. Getting up, Hugh tried hard to stare out -at the window, but soon found himself facing the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>door and listening. All within was quiet now; -indeed, there was not a sound nor a warning when -at length the door was flung open and Ridydale -himself beckoned him to come in. “Don’t be -afeard, sir,” he said under his breath as Hugh -passed him, and even in the midst of his own -agitation Hugh noted that the corporal’s face was -anxious and his manner subdued.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No prompting, Corporal Ridydale,” interrupted -a stern voice that Hugh remembered. “Come -hither, sirrah.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh halted where he was, a few paces from -the door, and looked toward the fireplace. Before -the hearth Colonel Gwyeth was standing with his -hands behind him; the set of his lips could not -be judged because of his thick beard, but his -brows were contracted so his eyes looked black -beneath them. “So this is my son,” he began -more quietly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh bowed his head without speaking; for -the moment he dared not trust his voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come, come, hold up your head, man,” the -colonel broke out impatiently; and then, with a -visible effort to maintain his quieter tone, “Why -have you not come to me ere this?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I did not court a second rejection, sir,” Hugh -answered, with a steady voice, though his hands -were crushing his cap into a little wad.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There was no need of a first rejection, as you -call it. You could have spared us both all this -shame had you chosen a proper time and place -to seek me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I had come some miles and I was eager to -see you,” Hugh answered slowly.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>“Had they used you ill at Everscombe that -you ran away?” the colonel broke in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“N-no, sir,” Hugh must admit in simple justice. -“My grandfather always used me rather kindly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gilbert Oldesworth?” Colonel Gwyeth turned -impatiently from the fireplace. “’Twas of him, I -doubt not, you had your good Roundhead doctrine.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I—do not understand, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The doctrine of giving your cheek unto the -smiter. That cut on your face, now, was that, -too, given you by one of my grooms?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt the blood sting in his cheeks; he -looked at his father but made no answer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perchance, sir—” Ridydale ventured in a subdued -voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Be quiet, John.—I have heard the whole history -of your last fortnight, Hugh Gwyeth, your -honorable associates, your gentle bearing, all you -have done to uphold the credit of your house.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“On my soul, sir, you do the lad wrong,” Ridydale -struck in rashly. “Though his way be not -your way, he is but young and—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hold your tongue, John Ridydale!” the colonel -cried, banging his fist down on the table beside -him. “And for you, sirrah Hugh, if you -have aught to say for yourself, say it out now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know not why I should defend myself, sir.” -Now they would hark to him at last, Hugh was -amazed to find how hot and thick his words -came. “I know not what I have done shameful, -unless it becomes a gentleman better to starve -than to work for his bread.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You have only done this much, that you have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>bitterly disappointed me,” Colonel Gwyeth answered -sharply. “For my gallant young gentleman -I had thought on, those crop-eared kinsmen -of mine have sent me a snivelling young Roundhead—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“For my hair, that is not my fault,” Hugh -blurted out, “and for snivelling, you have no -right to put that word to me. You may ask any -one—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Colonel Gwyeth swept back one arm with an -impatient movement that sent some loose papers -from the table crackling to the floor. “Can you -not understand now what you have done?” he -cried. “When you ran away from your school -you looked for me to make a soldier of you, did -you not? Tell me now, how can I set over my -troopers a fellow their whips have lashed?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For the moment Hugh found no words; the -full significance of his father’s speech, the totally -new view of his weeks of discipline, dismayed -him beyond reply. With it all came a -feeling that he was bitterly sorry that the matter -had gone amiss; in time he might have -come to like the red-haired man, who was disappointed -in him, and the red-haired man might -have come to like him. Even yet it was possible -he might win the colonel’s favor, if he could show -his mettle, if he were only given a chance! Then -he heard Ridydale venture, “An’t like you, sir—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Enough, Jack,” the colonel replied, with a -poor assumption of a casual tone. “I want you -now to take Master Hugh here and get him fitting -clothes and a steady horse. By to-morrow -night I shall have procured a pass—”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>“What mean you to do with me?” Hugh cried -out, making a step toward his father.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am going to despatch you back to your -kinsfolk at Everscombe.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was an instant of silence; then, “You -hold me so mean-spirited a fellow that you will -not keep me with you?” Hugh asked slowly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your ways suit your Puritan kindred better -than they suit me,” Gwyeth answered, fumbling -among the papers on the table. “’Tis too late -now for me to mend what they have marred. So -I shall furnish you with a horse and clothes—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I did not come out of Warwickshire to beg a -new coat and a nag of you.” As he spoke, Hugh -half turned away to the door and he perceived -now that Ridydale was violently signing to him -to be quiet and stay where he was. He did not -heed, but, stepping to the door, laid his hand on -the latch. “And I shall not go back to Everscombe, -sir,” he finished his speech deliberately.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tut, tut! You are too old for such childishness,” -answered the colonel, with exasperating -contempt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I will not go to Everscombe,” Hugh repeated.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you turn saucy, you young crop-head?” -replied Colonel Gwyeth, letting slip his assumption -of calmness. “You will do as I bid you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You have no right to say ‘do this’ unto me,” -Hugh flung back. “And I want nothing of you,—nothing -that you have offered me. I had rather -get my head broke in a troop stable twenty times -over. But I’ll leave your stable. And I’ll never -trouble you more, sir, with coming unto you, -unless you choose to send for me again.” All -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>this he said fast, but without raising his voice, -and throughout he kept his eyes fixed on the -colonel, who stood with his clinched hand resting -on the table, and a black look on his face. But -Hugh gave him no time to answer, just said, -“Good morrow, sir,” with much dignity, set his -cap on his head, and walked out of the room. -He took great pains to close the door carefully -behind him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Once outside upon the highway, he became -aware that his face was burning hot and every -fibre of his body seemed braced as for actual -battle. Heading blindly toward Shrewsbury he -tramped along fiercely, while he went over and -over the incidents of the last half-hour. If any -man but his own father had dared speak so contemptuously -and so untruly of him! No, if it -had been another than his father, it would not -have mattered. But that Colonel Gwyeth, of all -men, should hold him such a miserable fellow, -and give him no chance to prove himself better!</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then he heard behind him Ridydale’s -voice: “Master Hugh! Stay a moment, sir.” -The corporal had plainly run from the house, -but, so soon as Hugh halted, he sobered his -pace and came up at a more dignified gait. -“On my soul, sir, I meant not to put all awry,” -he broke out at once.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did you bear the tale of that flogging unto -him?” Hugh asked hotly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay. But not as you think, sir, on my honor.” -Ridydale strode at Hugh’s side while he poured -out the story: “I had taken me to the stables -and dragged the truth from the knaves there. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>Well, I’ll settle that score with Jeff Hardwyn. -I was hot with it all when I came to the -colonel, and he bespeaks me very careless and -cool, if ’twas his son indeed, belike in time, and -so on. I might ha’ known ’twas but the way of -him and he would yet make it right, but I blurted -out he’d best move quickly for his son’s sake, not -leave him to be buffeted by every cullion in his -stables. Well, he got the whole story of me then, -sir, and off he goes into one of his fine Gwyeth -rages, and packs off Rodes after you, and rates -every one in the house on whom he can put -hands until you come. And I left him in such -another rage. Why in Heaven’s name did you -go about to defy him so, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because he drove me to it,” Hugh retorted, -and pressed on with his face set to the front.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, no one is driving you now that you keep -such a pace. Whither are you going, an’t like -you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Shrewsbury. To seek in all the troop stables -till I find those who will employ me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, nay, lad, come back with me, if you have -it in heart to forgive me. On my soul, I meant -not so to dash your fortunes. By the Lord, I’ve -a liking for you, sir, in spite of your meek bearing. -And I doubt not your father would see -there was some good in you, in time. Only come -back, and mayhap he—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Before I’d beg of Colonel Gwyeth now, I’d go -carry a musket for a common foot soldier,” Hugh -answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, you’ve not your father’s spirit,” Ridydale -jerked out impatiently.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>Hugh turned on him: “I trust I’ve not. I -trust I’ll never live to cast off a son of my own.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that Ridydale stared blankly, then stopped -short and burst out laughing. “By the Lord, -you are the colonel over again, sir, whether it like -you or not! My faith, and he does not realize it -even now, no more than I did. Why, there’s -mettle in you, sir, after all. Now come back.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Hugh very plainly showed his whole intent -was turned to Shrewsbury, so at length Ridydale -abruptly yielded. “I’ll come along with -you,” he offered. “Very like I can find employment -for you there, sir. If you care to trust -unto me—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, and I thank you too,” Hugh answered, -touched for the moment, till he remembered that -Ridydale cared for him only as he would have -cared for a dog, had it borne the name of Gwyeth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that they trudged on in silence, past the -huddled, outlying houses, through the west gate -of Shrewsbury, and so into the crowd and confusion -of the garrison streets. It was somewhat -past noon, Hugh judged by the position of the -sun, and then the sun was shut out, as they turned -into a narrow byway where the mud was deep in -the shadow of the tall houses. “This has not -much the look of a troop stable,” Hugh suggested, -as Ridydale halted and knocked at the dark rear -door of what seemed a considerable mansion.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Ridydale was speaking a word aside to the -serving man who opened, and paid no heed. -Presently he stepped in, bidding Hugh follow, -and then, leaving him alone in a dingy anteroom, -he walked away with the servant. Seating himself -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>on a bench by the wall Hugh tried to run -over the morning’s events, and then to put them -by and think only of what was before him: stable-boy, -trooper one day, perhaps. Only it was not -a good thing to hope forward to, so he drummed -his finger-tips on the bench and wondered why -Ridydale delayed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then there came a quick, light step outside -the inner door. “Where is he?” a shrill voice cried. -The door was kicked open, and there plunged in -headlong a slim figure in blue. “Hugh, you scoundrel! -Where have you been? Why did you not -seek me out at first? Hang me if I be not glad -to see you, old lad.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Frankie Pleydall!” was all Hugh could get -out for the arms about his neck that were near to -strangling him.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER IX <br /> <span class='small'>THE WAY TO WAR</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“That was friendly conduct of you!” Frank -Pleydall, having ended his last hot tirade, suffered -himself to fall back once more with his shoulders -against one arm of his big chair and his legs hanging -over the other. “I take it, had not that tall -corporal of yours come hither and opened up the -matter to us, you’d have gone sweat in a stable, -eh? On your honor, Hugh, did you enjoy the -life?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Would you?” Hugh retorted, and then, as -he looked at Frank’s curls and fair skin, the -impossibility of his going through such experience -came home to him. He shrugged his shoulders -and, turning to the mirror, went on dragging the -comb through his rebellious hair, rather slowly, -for to be cleanly and freshly clad was an unwonted -sensation, to enjoy which he was willing to dally -a trifle in dressing. From time to time he paused -to glance at Frank, who lounged and chatted, just -as he had done in the old days at school, or to -look about the dark room, with great bed and -heavy furniture, that recalled to him his grandfather’s -chamber at Everscombe. After all, he -still felt at home in well-ordered life; “outcast” -was not stamped upon him for all time. In -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>Frank’s stockings and shirt, which was rather -scant for him, and a certain Cornet Griffith’s gray -breeches, and another officer’s half-worn shoes, -swept up in the general levy Frank had made on -the nearest wardrobes, he thought himself for a -moment the same young gentleman who had left -Everscombe a month before. Then, chancing to -meet the blue eyes that looked back at him out -of the mirror, he realized this was not the face -he used to know; this face was thin, so the jaws -seemed squarer, and there was a firmer set to -the lips, and a new depth to the eyes. A slight -cut on one cheek and a bruise above one eye -he noted, too, without great resentment against -those who had given them; such marks would -pass quickly, he knew, but the endurance and -obedience he had acquired with them would -remain.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should think it would pleasure you to study -that well-favored face,” Frank chuckled lazily. -“When you’re done, sir, get on your coat, and -I’ll take you to my father.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh pulled on Cornet Griffith’s gray jacket, -which was somewhat too large for him, and stood -turning back the long sleeves. “What a tall -fellow you seem!” his comrade broke out, bringing -his feet down to the floor and sitting forward -in his chair. “On my conscience, I could swear -you were more than six months elder than I.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So could I,” Hugh answered thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, for all that you are not to treat me like -a boy as the other men do; you’re nothing but -a lad yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laughed, and put his hand down on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>Frank’s shoulder. “We’ll be good comrades as -we ever have been,” he said. “I shall never forget -how kindly you have used me this day.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, hang all that!” Frank put in hastily. -“You’d do the like for me. And ’tis pleasure -for me to have you with me. You can share my -chamber,—there’s space enough for one to be -lonesome,—and we’ll go to the wars together, -eh?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The realization of part of the boyish plan he -had brought with him from Everscombe pleased -Hugh gravely, but he had been too often disappointed -to clutch eagerly at any hope, so he -only said, “I’d like it right well,—if your father -wish me to stay.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If I wish it, he will,” Frank answered confidently, -and so they went arm in arm down the -stairs.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Large as the house was, Sir William and the -officers of his troop contrived to fill it only too -full, Hugh concluded, after Frank had haled -him, to his great embarrassment, into several -rooms, and presented him formally to all the men -on whom he could lay hands. Of the number he -best remembered a dry-spoken Captain Turner, -who told him, with an implication that made -Hugh’s face redden, that he ought in justice to -notify the rebels that he had joined the king. He -remembered, too, a long-legged Cornet Griffith, -whose boyish face at sight of him took on such a -rueful look that Hugh suspected the loan of the -gray clothes had been a forced one. He ventured -a private expostulation to Frank, who merely -laughed: “Oh, Ned Griffith is a cousin of mine, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>so he ought to be glad to lend me his goods.—And -here I have found my father out at last.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With that he dragged Hugh by the sleeve into -a retired parlor, where Sir William Pleydall, a -stout florid man of near sixty, was sitting at a -table dictating to a secretary. “Here is Hugh -Gwyeth, sir, of whom Colonel Gwyeth’s corporal -told you,” Frank announced. “You’ll entertain -him as a gentleman volunteer, will you not, -sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will you be silent, Francis, till I have done -with this piece of work?” Sir William burst out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Frank knelt down on a chair with his elbows -on the table and his chin in his hands, so the -candlelight fell across his girlishly fair face. “I -am right sorry, sir,” he began winningly, “I did -not mark you were busied. I had thought—you -would gladly aid a friend of mine. Have I -offended you greatly, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, Frank,” Sir William answered hastily, and, -putting by the papers he held, motioned Hugh to -come over to him. “I remember you very well, -sir,” he began. “You were home with Frank one -Michaelmas time. So you ran away from that -school? ’Twas very well done of you. That -man Masham is a cozening, foul-mouthed knave -of a crop-headed Puritan.” Sir William’s face -flushed and Frank made haste to change the subject. -“You promised me Hugh should stay with -me, sir, you’ll recollect.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If he care to,” Sir William made answer. “You -look sober enough, Master Gwyeth, to keep my -lad in proper behavior.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I would gladly serve you, Sir William, in any -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>way I could,” Hugh said earnestly. “I think I -could fight—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sir William began laughing. “Call yourself a -gentleman volunteer, if ’tis any satisfaction to -you,” he said, and seemed about to end the conversation; -but, after a second glance at Hugh, -asked abruptly in a lower tone, “Between ourselves, -sir, what vice was there in you wherefore -your father would not entertain you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I did not chance to please him,” Hugh answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you are his only son, are you not?” asked -Sir William, looking, not at Hugh, but at Frank, -who was still kneeling by the table.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, Sir William,” Hugh replied, with his eyes -suddenly lowered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The baronet was silent a moment, then, “Stay -with us as long as you please, my lad,” he said in -a kinder tone than he had yet used, and with that, -abruptly taking up his papers, turned again to his -secretary.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh came out in silence from the little parlor, -and for a time, while he enjoyed the realization -that he had not lost a boy’s capacity for feeling -happy and hopeful, could make no reply to Frank’s -brisk chatter. But, before the evening was over, -he made amends to Master Pleydall, for, snugly -settled in a window-seat with his friend, he -recounted to him not only the distinctions he -hoped to win in the war, but all that had befallen -him in the last six months. Frank, hugging -his knees in his excitement, wished audibly -he had been with Hugh to run away; two days -without food seemed so slight a thing when told. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>But Strangwayes’ share in events surprised him -enough to make him leave clasping his knees and -sit up straight: “Met my Cousin Dick? What -good fortune for you! He used to be a gay kindly -fellow, the best liked of all my father’s nephews. -What manner of man is he grown now?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh’s eager account made Frank look dubious. -“Very like when he comes again you’ll not -wish to be my comrade any more,” he suggested -jealously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’re somewhat of a fool, Frank,” Hugh -answered candidly. “Tell me now, have you had -news of Dick of late?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, he’s still with Butler’s troop; we only -learned that on coming out of Worcestershire -two days back. He is but just recovered from -his wound and fever—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you think, Frank,” Hugh interrupted, -“to-morrow we might walk over to the village -and see him?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I take it you’ll not,” Frank retorted. “Where -have you kept yourself from the news? To-morrow -we march southward to flay the skin off -that old fox, the rebel Earl of Essex. We’ll make -short work of him, and then—” he trailed off -into an exact exposition of the way the war would -go, which ended only at bedtime.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Next day, as Frank had promised, in a keen, -clear weather that made the throngs of troop-horses -prance and gave a vividness to every bright -coat and sword-hilt, the southward march began. -Hugh, riding forth bravely with Frank, Captain -Turner, and others of Sir William’s officers, felt -he could have shouted for mere pleasure in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>sight of the plunging horses, the troops of men, -and the throngs of friendly townsfolk that lined -the streets of Shrewsbury. In every fibre of -him was a bracing sensation, not only from the -crisp air and the sunlight, but from the mere feeling -of the horse moving beneath him and the -ordered motion all about him of men and beasts. -Now first it came over him that, even if he might -not serve with his father, he was glad that he was -one of his Majesty’s great marching army, bound -to fight for the king.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At the east gate, by which all must pass, horses -and men were wedged thickly, so presently Hugh -found himself forced to one side of the gateway, -where his progress was checked. An ammunition -wagon had broken down and blocked the way -ahead, the word ran through the crowd, whereat -some men swore, and others, laughing, took the -delay merrily. While they were waiting thus, -an officer with one trooper attending rode headlong -into the thick of them and there stuck fast. -“You’ll need slacken pace, sir, you’ll find,” Turner -called to him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve no wish to show my steed’s quality,” replied -the other. “But I’d fain be with a troop -of mine that’s somewhere ahead on the road ’twixt -here and Staffordshire.” He impatiently thrust -back the flapping brim of his felt hat, and Hugh -was made sure of what he had guessed by the -voice, that it was Colonel Gwyeth himself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At first he felt a kind of trembling, which was -foolish, he told himself; for he no longer feared -the man. So he did not even try to urge his -horse forward, but suffered the beast to keep his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>stand, while he gazed fixedly at the colonel. All -through the press ran a swaying motion, which -soon forced Colonel Gwyeth, still in loud speech -with Turner, knee to knee with Hugh, and at the -touch he faced toward him. Hugh felt a thrill -go through him, but he looked his father squarely -in the eyes and, lifting his hat a trifle, said, “Good -morrow, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In the name of the fiend!” Gwyeth broke -out; he had to turn in his saddle to say it, for -the movement in the throng had now brought -him level with the nose of Hugh’s horse. “Well, -sir, you seem fully able to fend for yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So he was swept away, and next instant Ridydale -following him was up alongside. “’Tis all -well, Master Hugh?” he asked in a low tone as -he brushed by.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, thanks to you,” Hugh replied, and then -Ridydale was forced away, so he lost him in the -ruck of horsemen. After that he gave heed only -to edging his own beast forward till they were out -upon the highway, where they found the road so -nearly choked with the riders of their troop, which -they presently overtook, that a swift pace was still -out of the question. This was somewhat of a -relief to Hugh, for the borrowed sorrel which he -bestrode was of no great speed, and made him -think sadly of the bay horse he had ridden on the -headlong dash from the “Golden Ram.” Frank, -however, who was capitally mounted on his roan -mare, The Jade, so named for her wretched temper, -lamented all the morning that he had not -space sufficient to show his steed’s fine paces.</p> - -<p class='c007'>About noon, as they passed through the village -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>where Hugh had met with Butler’s troop, he -coaxed Frank out of the ranks and, with an eager -hope of seeing Dick Strangwayes again, headed -for the inn. But the place was filled with thirsty -troopers, so the tapsters were too busy to pay -much heed to the boys till Frank tried bribery. -Then they learned that the day before Butler’s -dragoons had started southward to capture some -arms at a Puritan country-seat; and, though he -looked scarce fit to ride, the gentleman who had -lain ill at the house had gone with them. “Well, -Cousin Dick must be a hardy fellow,” said Frank, -as the two boys got to horse again. “Though, to -be sure, all the gentlemen of our family are.” He -flung out his chest as full as possible while he -spoke, and presently got his hat tilted over one -ear at a swaggering angle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thus the march went on, by south and east, -over ground Hugh had already once ridden at a -time that now seemed immeasurable years behind -him. He had let his life at Shrewsbury and his -father’s rejection of him slip backward in his -memory, till now he found himself living heartily -in the present. Existence meant not to worry at -what was past, but to sleep in an inn bed or on a -cottage floor, whatever quarters fell to the troop, -to eat what fare Sir William’s officers could procure, -and through all, wet or dry, to ride on -whither the king led.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Very early in the march they entered the hamlet -of the “Golden Ram,” where Hugh, as he held -it to be his duty, sought out Sir William and laid -before him the story of Emry’s treachery. The -baronet, after some moments of explosive swearing, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>sent men to apprehend the fellow, and bade -Hugh go to guide them. But when they came to -the inn they found that at their approach Constant-In-Business -Emry had discreetly removed, and -there was left only the red-cheeked maid with the -black eyes, who joked and flirted with the troopers -while she drew them ale. At first she did not -recognize Hugh, and, when she did, seemed to -take little interest in him; but, as the men tramped -out, she ran after him, and catching his arm asked -him in a whisper how the dark gentleman fared, -and if he had been hurt in the scuffle. The -news of Dick’s illness made her half sniffle, which -touched Hugh so that, having no money to give -her, he tried his friend’s tactics and kissed her. -Whereat the wench, after a feint at boxing his -ears, darted back to the door of the common -room, where she paused, laughing shrilly. “Ride -away, my lad,” she called after him. “It takes -more than jack-boots and spurs to make a man.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh went back to his horse in some mortification; -it might be well enough for Dick Strangwayes -to be on good terms with all women, but -he had no will to meddle farther in such matters.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Yet, scarcely a week later, he found himself -seated at a table in a stuffy chamber, trying by -the flicker of a guttering candle to blot out a -letter to a girl. For the army was now among -the Warwickshire fields, and the sight of home -country brought back to Hugh’s thoughts Everscombe -and the good friend he had left there. So, -while Frank jeered from the bed about his sweetheart, -and urged him to put out the candle and lie -down, Hugh, sitting in his shirt-sleeves, painfully -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>scrawled some ill-spelt lines to Lois Campion. -Much had happened that would only make her -miserable to know, so he spoke little of his father, -only told her he was well and happy, and, as Colonel -Gwyeth could offer him no place in his troop, was -serving with Sir William Pleydall. He sent his -duty to his grandfather, too, and his obedient -faithful services to her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just there Frank sat up in bed, and, throwing a -boot at the candle, contrived to overturn the ink-bottle. -Shutting his lips, Hugh mopped up the -stuff, then, still without speaking, began to undress. -“Now you’ve lost your temper, Master -Roundhead,” Frank teased; but Hugh held his -tongue till he had blown out the candle and -stretched himself in the bed, then said only, -“Good night.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was almost asleep when Frank began -shaking him. “Hugh, prithee, good Hugh,” -he coaxed, “are you truly angry? Pray you, -forgive me, Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t I always?” Hugh answered, half waked. -“Go to sleep, Frank.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So they began next morning on as good terms -as ever, and before night had barely avoided two of -those quarrels which Frank made a daily incident -to friendship. But by the following sunrise even -Frank was too busied with other matters for such -diversion. “The rumor’s abroad that we’re to -bang old Essex soon,” he broke out, as he and -Hugh rode a little before Sir William’s troop -along the stony Warwickshire road.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We’ve been going to ever since we left -Shrewsbury,” Hugh replied. “I hope—Perhaps -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>if I did somewhat in battle some one would bestow -a commission on me; I’d like not to tax -your hospitality longer.” Then he repented of -the last as an ungracious speech.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Frank, without heeding, ran on: “I hope I -shall get a share in this work, and I will, if I lose -my head for it. You’ll understand, Hugh, my -father let me have no share in the fighting in -Worcestershire; they left me at home when they -went out to Powick Bridge. On my honor, -Hugh, I wish sometimes one or two of my sisters -had been boys. ’Tis a fine thing, no doubt, to be -sole heir to a great property, but a man would -like a little liberty now and again, not to be ever -kept close and out of harm like a girl. Now I’ll -lay you any amount of money my father will -strive to keep me from this battle.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh did not look properly sympathetic, so -Frank added pettishly: “And he’ll rate you no -higher than me, so if you are to have a hand in -the fighting and get you a commission, you must -look to yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>None the less Hugh cherished a suspicion that -if a battle took place under his very nose he -would be aware of it, and in that hope he went -trustingly to sleep next night. Sir William’s -troop was quartered about a small manor house, -some three miles to the west of Edgcott, where -the king lay. Hugh noted the place merely as -one that gave comfortable harborage, for he and -Frank were assigned a chamber to themselves, -where they went promptly and wearily to bed. -But barely asleep, as it seemed, a troublesome -dream disturbed Hugh; he thought himself back -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>in the Shrewsbury stables, where the horses had -all turned restless and stamped unceasingly in -their stalls. Then of a sudden he sat up in -bed, broad awake, just in time to see the door -kicked open, and Griffith, with his coat in one -hand and a candle in the other, stumble in. “Up -with you, youngsters!” he cried. “Essex is -coming.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Essex?” Frank whimpered sleepily. “We’ll -kill him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Leave us the candle, Cornet Griffith,” Hugh -cried, springing up and beginning to fling on his -clothes. “How near are the enemy?” His teeth -were chattering with the cold of the room and a -nervous something that made his fingers shake.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The Lord knows!” Griffith replied, struggling -into his coat. “The word to get under arms has -but just come.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where is my other stocking?” Frank put in -piteously from his side of the bed. “Hugh, have -you seen it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Stockings!” the cornet ejaculated. “There’s -a fellow would wait for lace cuffs ere he went to -fight.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thus warned, Hugh put his bare feet into his -riding-boots, and, fastening his jacket without the -formality of donning a shirt, ran for the door at -Griffith’s heels. Frank, after an unheeded entreaty -to wait for him, tumbled into his shirt and -breeches, and came headlong after out into the -corridor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Below in the great hall, under the dim light of -candles, men were jostling and shouting and pulling -on coats and buckling sword-belts, as they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>passed hurriedly out by the black open door. -Running blindly after the crowd, Hugh collided -by the entrance with Captain Turner, who came -in jauntily, albeit he was in his shirt-sleeves. -“How near are the enemy, Captain?” Hugh cried, -catching him by the arm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Turner looked down at him with a dry smile. -“Not so near, Gwyeth, but you’ll have time to -wash your face ere they come up.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Even the mocking tone could not recall Hugh -to his self-composure, but he ran on out of the -house, where he was jostled by troopers and -nearly trampled on by horses that were being led -up. Getting out of harm’s way at last in an angle -of the front of the house, he became aware that -the stars were few in the sky and on the horizon -a light streak showed; it must be nearing dawn. -Just then he heard the deadened sound of a -horse’s being rapidly ridden over turf, and then a -strange officer came galloping up to the very door. -Running thither, Hugh saw him disappear into -an inner room, whence a little later Sir William -Pleydall, a bit excited but carefully accoutred, -came forth with the announcement that the enemy -were near by at Kineton, and the troop was to -hold itself in readiness to march to meet them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was sufficient time to follow Captain -Turner’s advice, so Hugh and Frank went back -to their chamber and, while their candle paled in -the daybreak, dressed methodically. Hugh turned -up his boot-tops and fastened his buff coat up -to his chin, telling himself he should be too -grateful to Sir William for such a stout jacket to -envy Frank his cuirass, then, while his companion -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>was tugging a comb through his curly hair, sat -down on the window-seat to wait. The manor -house looked out across a valley toward the east, -where a light rift in the dun clouds showed till -presently the sun broke through, and turned the -mist in the lowlands to silver. “It will be a fair -day,” Hugh said, half aloud; “’tis a Sunday, too, -is it not?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” sneered Frank. “How can so godly a -man as Essex fight of a Sabbath?” Then he -broke off speech for the serious business of strapping -on his sword, which was long enough to -threaten to trip him up. Hugh looked on rather -enviously, for no one had yet offered him a sword, -and, as he felt he should not ask for one, he had -to content himself with sticking in his belt a -spare pistol Captain Turner had lent him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When the two young soldiers came downstairs -they found the candles were long since out and -gray daylight was glimmering through the hall. -There tables were spread, about which the officers -of the troop, all equipped, sat or stood while -they ate; and, as they had good appetites, Hugh, -though he was not over-hungry, felt obliged to -take bread and meat and try to make a hearty -meal. All about him was talk of nothing but the -battle, the numbers the Earl of Essex had in his -army, the numbers the king could put against -him, and the surety of a mighty victory. “Do -not you be all so certain,” croaked Turner, who -had seated himself to make a comfortable meal. -The others hooted him down, so he changed the -subject by chaffing Frank on his prodigiously -long sword. The boy retorted saucily enough to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>make those about him laugh; indeed, for the -most part, all were gay now daylight had come -and the work before them was clear to see. -There were wagers laid on the length of the -battle, promises of high revelry on the spoils of -the enemy, and above all calls for wine. When -the glasses were filled, Sir William, rising at the -head of the table, gave the king’s health. Hugh -remembered afterward the instant’s tense hush -that came in the talk and loud laughter, then the -sudden uproar of fists smiting on the table, boot-heels -stamping on the floor, and through and -above all cheers and cheers that made the high-roofed -hall reëcho. Then, as the tumult died down, -the major, Bludsworth, cried: “Now, then, lads: -To the devil with the Parliament and Essex!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that was shouting that made the lungs -ache, and glasses shattered on the floor, then, as -the storm of curses and calls abated, one of the -officers struck up a song against the Parliament, -and some joined in, some laughed, and -others still cried, “Down with the Parliament!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then a messenger, pushing in, spoke a -word to Sir William, who gave orders for the -troop to prepare itself to march, for the main -guard would soon be under way.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mayhap we can get sight of something from -the hill here,” Frank cried. “Come out, Hugh, -and see.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Running out into the cold of the nipping morning -air they set their faces to the steep pitch of -hillside behind the manor house. The turf was -stiff with frost, so climbing was easy, and in a -short space they were at the summit. Instinctively -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>they turned their first glance to the west -where the enemy lay. “But ’tis useless gazing,” -Frank said, next moment, “for ’twixt here and -Kineton rises a piece of high land; they call it -Edgehill. Face back to the east, Hugh. Look, -look, ’tis the vanguard!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Winding down the opposite slope they could -now distinguish a long line of moving figures, -horsemen upon horsemen, with the sunlight glittering -ever the stronger on their cuirasses and -helmets. Moment after moment the boys delayed -there, till the foremost of the riders toiled up a -lower ridge of the hill, not an eighth of a mile -distant from them. The hum of the moving -files reached them; almost they thought to distinguish -the devices of the fluttering banners. -“But the king’s standard will come only with -the Life Guards and the foot,” Frank explained. -“This evening ’twill be waving over all England. -God and our right! God and King Charles!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yonder below marches a black cornet,” Hugh -broke in. “See you, Frank? My father’s troop -goes under such a banner.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Say we draw down nearer to them,” the other -cried, and started to descend the hill.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Stay, Frank,” Hugh called, “it must be mid-morning. -I think we were best get back to our -troop.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Name of Heaven! I had near forgot,” Frank -replied, and, facing about, started back to the -manor house at full speed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh followed after, slipping upon the steep -hillside, and so they came down behind the stables, -where after the tumult of the earlier morning was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>a surprising quiet. “Some must have set out -already,” Frank panted, as he headed for the -house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll fetch our horses,” Hugh shouted after him, -and ran to the stable. Within he saw The Jade -and the sorrel had already been led forth, and -in their places, all a-lather and with drooping -heads, stood the black and bay captured from -the Oldesworths. “When were they put here?” -Hugh cried to the hostler, and, without waiting -for an answer, ran for the house; if the horses -were there, Dick Strangwayes must be close at -hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But when he came to the house he found neither -horse nor man, only off to the right the last of -Sir William’s troop were pacing round a spur of -the hill, and on the doorstone stood Frank with -his hands tight clinched. “Hugh, they’ve taken -our horses!” he cried shrilly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you seen anything of Dick?” Hugh -asked in his turn.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And Bludsworth,—the fiend come and fetch -him!—he answered me: ‘The men that can -strike the stoutest blows for the king must have -the horses to-day.’” Frank plunged a step or -two across the trampled turf, as if he had a mind -to run after the troop. “He’d not a dared use -me so, if he knew not my father would approve. -I told you they’d cheat us of the battle. Never -mind, I would not fight for them if I could.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>As Frank’s voice trailed off into inarticulate -mutterings Hugh found opportunity to question: -“Has Dick been here? Tell me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, ’twas he and another from Butler’s troop. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>Had spurred night and day. Their horses were -spent. And Dick Strangwayes has taken my -Jade. Plague on him! He’s too heavy for her; -he’ll break her legs. My Jade—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He has gone into the battle and I did not -see him,” Hugh broke out. “He may be hurt -again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I care not if he be,” Frank cried, “so he -bring her back safe. She was the prettiest bit -of horseflesh! And I was going to ride her in -the battle.—Did I not tell you they’d not let us -come? And no doubt they’ll beat the rebels and -’tis the last encounter and I shall not be there. -And she was my horse, and she loved me; she -almost never kicked at me.” Frank’s shrill voice -broke suddenly. “Oh, hang it all!” he cried, -and, dropping down on the doorstone with his -head on the threshold, began sobbing piteously -and choking out more oaths till his voice was lost -for weeping.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh forgot his own bitter disappointment at -not seeing Dick and having no chance to earn a -commission in the battle, in his first alarm for -Frank. Then alarm gave place to something -akin to disgust at the boy’s childishness, and he -half started to walk away, but he turned back. -After all, Frank was younger than he, and he -ought to be patient with the lad, just as Dick -Strangwayes had been patient with him. So he -stood over Frank and tried to joke him into being -quiet.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But ’twas my horse,” the boy sobbed, “and -there’ll never be another battle, and I had no -part in the last.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>“Well, it does not befit your cuirass to cry -like that,” Hugh answered; and then, “Look you -here, Frank, ’tis not above six miles to Kineton -and we’ve good legs to carry us. Why should -we not have a hand in the fighting even now?”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER X <br /> <span class='small'>IN THE TRAIL OF THE BATTLE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>It was long past the noon hour, as the westward -bent of the sun showed, when the two boys -panted up the northern pitch of the rough Edgehill. -From the manor house to the field they -had come at their best pace, running at first -even up the hillsides, till sheer lack of breath -made them somewhat moderate their speed. A -couple of miles out from the house, as they -headed aimlessly, with only a vague notion that -somewhere to the west the battle would be joined, -they came up with a body of foot alongside which -they marched clear to the southern verge of the -hill. Coming thither, they at last heard the -rumor that, while the foot would be massed in -the centre for the fight, the Prince with the -mounted men, among whom served Sir William’s -troop, would hold the right wing. Thereupon -they forsook the foot soldiers and, heading to the -northward, plunged down a steep pitch and across -an open bit of ground, where they got entangled -in a body of pikemen and were nearly ridden -down by some straggling dragoons, and so came -breathless up the last hillside. There upon the -high ridge, whence for miles they could see the -low country spreading away toward Kineton and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>right beneath them the mustering squadrons, they -made a moment’s halt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Below here to the right our men are,” Frank -gasped, without breath enough to shout. “If I -only had The Jade.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twill be the enemy far over yonder in the -plain, where I can just make out black things to -move,” said Hugh. “There look to be a many -of them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’ll be fewer ere night,” Frank replied.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sure, we’ll scarce give battle so late in the -day?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s time enough ’twixt now and sundown -to trounce them roundly,” Frank answered -cheerfully. “Come, let us go down and seek our -people.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They had gone barely a rod along the brow of -the hill, when right behind them, deadened till -now by the yielding turf, sounded the galloping -of a horse. Glancing over his shoulder, Hugh -got sight of a rider spurring in their steps with no -evident intention of swerving, so he caught Frank -by the arm and jerked him to one side, none too -soon, for the horse’s nose almost grazed the -boy’s shoulder. “Look how you ride!” Hugh -shouted angrily. The horseman never deigned -to look at him, but, with his dark face set to the -front and the ends of his scarlet sash fluttering, -shot by and disappeared down the hillside.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Curse him!” Frank sputtered, “’twas a -coward’s trick; ’twas like him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Like who?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis Philip Bellasis, a son of my Lord Bellasis. -I pray his comb be cut some fine morning.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>“The Lord Bellasis who is of the king’s council?” -Hugh asked, as they tramped along the -hilltop, with ears alert now for more reckless -riders behind them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, a scurvy civilian,” Frank said, with extra -swagger; “we of the army have no love for -them nor they for us. Why, his influence came -near losing my father his independent command. -He would have lumped us in with my Lord Carnavon’s -horse. Well, we’ll show to-day who’ll -save the kingdom, meddling lawyers like Bellasis -or soldiers like ourselves.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then conversation ceased, for reaching a gully -in the hillside they gave all their thoughts to -descending it, and slipped and scuffled in the dry -bed till Frank had wrenched his ankle and Hugh -had a torn coat-sleeve to his credit. The gully -ending in a small stream, they followed it down -through a copse of bare bushes that snapped -against the face, and so came out upon the open -plain. Not an eighth of a mile distant, sitting -ready with their backpieces gleaming and their -carabines slung across their shoulders, they could -see the ranks of horsemen. In the open betwixt -the boys and the ordered troops messengers were -spurring to and fro, and now and again, in small -groups or man by man, stray horsemen straggled -by. One such they came upon by the brook, as -he was patching a broken girth, and Hugh, pausing -to lend his aid, asked him what news there -was in the field. “Why does not the battle begin -at once?” Frank urged, and, when the man -answered the troops were but waiting the word -to fall on, he caught Hugh’s arm and bade -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>him come forward quickly to seek their regiment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that the trooper struck in: “Best keep out -o’ the press, sir. You’ll be trampled to pieces -there with small good to the king or to yourself. -Better bear off to the northward out of harm’s -way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I am here solely to get in harm’s way,” -Frank protested; and, when Hugh, taking the -advice, made for a log bridge to cross the stream, -followed grumblingly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Once over, with the intention of taking their -final stand at the extreme right of the line of -waiting horsemen, they pressed northward across -the uneven plain. They were sliding down the -bank to a shallow hollow, when the thud, thud of -hoofs warned them to look to the westward and -there, over a slight rise in the ground, a belated -troop came at a smart trot. Pressing back against -the bank Hugh watched the crowded columns -approach, the bespattered breasts of the horses, -their tossing heads, and above the waving manes -the white faces of the riders. As the head of the -column came close upon him his eyes rested on -its leader, and he saw he was a man of middle -height with reddish hair, who rode in his shirt -with neither cuirass nor helmet. Then the troop -was sweeping past, black, red, and gray horses -straining at a trot, and men with steady faces and -silent lips, among whom, looking closer, Hugh -recognized some he knew.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But he only gazed without speaking till the -last horse had swung down the hollow, and -Frank, who had been cheering mightily, settled -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>his hat on his head again, with an excited, “A -brave troop, was it not, Hugh?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It was my troop,” Hugh answered. “Did -you not note? ’Twas my father led them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, ay, to be sure,” replied Frank, making -for the opposite side of the hollow. “I scarce -remembered him, and, to my thinking, he has -used you so knavishly that he does not merit -to dwell in any gentleman’s remembrance, and—Hark, -there!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Both halted a moment as from far off on -the left came the dull boom, boom of cannon. -From far to the front an answering crash -sounded. “They’re falling to it,” Frank cried. -“Briskly, Hugh!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>One last spurt that sent the blood beating to -the temples and turned the breath hot in the -throat, and they were stumbling up the little hillock -for which they had headed. Still, before and -on the left, the cannon were pounding, and there -came, too, in long, undistinguishable shouts, the -noise of men cheering. The withered grass of -the hillside wavered before Hugh’s eyes with the -very weariness of running, yet he found strength -in him to pull off his hat and breath to pant out: -“For a king!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then, coming over the brow of the hill, he -had sight of the rough plain stretching off to -the gray west, and across it saw the long ranks -of horsemen sweeping forward. A gleam of cuirasses -and helmets, a glimpse of plunging horses -and waving swords, a flutter of banners; they -had charged onward, and only the echo of their -shouts still lingered and was lost in the throb -<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>of cannon. Now first Hugh realized his throat -was near cracked with cheering and his arm -ached with waving his hat; so he paused breathless, -with his eyes still fastened on the brown -dust-cloud toward the west. There came a -touch on his arm, and putting out his hand -he grasped Frank’s wrist. Young Pleydall was -gasping for breath with a choke like a half sob. -“If we had only been with them!” he broke out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My father is there,” Hugh said, half aloud. -He did not tell Frank what he was thinking: -that, after all, he would rather have a father who, -even if he did despise and reject his son, was -striking good blows over yonder, than an indulgent -parent like Master Nathaniel Oldesworth, -who could bear to sit idle at home.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What if your father is there?” Frank panted -in retort. “It does not better matters for us. -They’re hard at it. Listen to the muskets yonder. -Come, let us go thither.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh gave one glance to the west, where even -the dust-cloud had faded in the distance, and -to the south, where a slight swelling of the plain -hid the sight of conflict; it was from there the -tantalizing noise of firing came. “’Tis not in -human endurance to stay here and not know -how the day is going,” he burst out, and led the -way down into the plain. They struck toward -the brook they had crossed, and followed its -course northwestward, almost in the track the -Royalist horse had taken.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They’ve all passed out of sight,” Frank said -as he pressed forward, half on the run. “They -must have driven the rebels clean into Kineton.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>“Hark to the southward!” Hugh answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They will only be shooting down stragglers,” -Frank replied confidently. “The day’s ours. -No living thing could stand up against such -a charge. Was it not brave? I tell you, Hugh, -war is the grandest—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There the words died away on Frank’s lips, -as a few paces before them near the brookside -he caught sight of a dark, motionless thing. -“’Tis not—” he faltered, and made a movement -as if he had half a mind to fetch a circuit about -the place.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come along,” Hugh said firmly, though he -felt the heart contract within him. “If he be -alive, we must help him.” Walking forward deliberately, -he halted a step from the object,—a -common trooper, he now saw, and by his colors -one of the king’s men. He lay on his back -with his hands clinched above his head, and -the blood bubbling out through a bullet wound -in his throat, but he still breathed in short, -rattling gasps. Perceiving that, Hugh ran to the -margin of the brook, and, dipping his hat full of -water, splashed it over the man’s face; he remembered -afterward what a dull, dogged face -it was under the pain that was distorting the -brows and lips. He raised the man’s head up -against his arm. “Fetch more water, Frank,” -he bade; then, as the boy turned, it seemed -something caught and clicked in the trooper’s -throat, and his head slipped down from Hugh’s -arm. Hugh suffered him to sink to the ground, -and was kneeling beside him, half dazed with -the awesomeness of what had happened, when -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>Frank came stumbling back. “What!” the -younger lad cried; “is he—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He is gone,” Hugh answered simply. He -got up, and walking to the brook lay down on -the brink and drank; the chill of the soggy turf -beneath him and the cold water he gulped down -seemed to wash away something of the horror he -had just seen. He rose fairly steadied. “Shall -we go forward, Frank?” he asked. “There’ll be -more such to see.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, let us,” Frank said, rather subdued, and -so, passing the body of the trooper, they went on -down the brook.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The farther they advanced, the more ill sights -there were to see: horses that lay dead or -sprawled with disabling wounds yet struggled to -rise, men with gashed bodies or blackened faces, -who were beyond aid, and others, bleeding with -wounds, who had crawled to their feet and were -heading for the rear. One horse, a roan, Frank -persuaded Hugh, for The Jade’s sake, to shoot -with his pistol; but after that Hugh, sparing his -scant supply of ammunition, refused to carry on -such work. But they tried to aid the wounded -men, who came ever more frequently, and with -them one or two of another sort, unhurt but riding -too hastily to pause to speak. “The cowardly -knaves!” Frank cried. “If I find one of our troop -turning tail so, hang me if I do not recommend -him for a flogging.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But just then there came a white-faced horseman, -who, reining up at their call, gladly gave -them what tidings he could, which were vague -enough, only the king’s men had swept the rebel -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>horse from off the earth, and chased the rest of -the army away, and there had been great fighting, -and a scurvy Roundhead bullet had broke his -leg. Would one of the young gentlemen reach -him a drink of water? He could not dismount. -Hugh filled the man’s steel cap at the brook, and -then he rode slowly away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Farther on, where the conflict had been hotter, -they passed more bodies, and just the other side -of the brook, which they leaped at a narrow turn, -came upon one lying face down whose long hair -gave him to be a gentleman. Hugh had bent to -see if by any chance he still lived, when Frank -thrust by him. “Do you not know that head-piece -with a nick in it?” he cried. “’Tis Ned -Griffith.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that they had him over on his back and -found he was breathing, in spite of a great gash -in his shoulder that had sheered through the -cuirass. Tearing off his armor, they splashed -water over him till the young fellow revived -enough to blink his eyes open, groan, and shut -them again. “Live?” said Frank, pouring another -capful of water over him. “Do you think a man -will die who can fetch a groan like that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Griffith’s eyes slowly opened again. “You -youngsters?” he asked feebly. “Was it the -whole troop rode over me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laid open his coat, and, with a certain -grim thankfulness that what he had unwillingly -seen now enabled him without physical shrinking -to help a friend, bandaged his hurt. “We must -carry him to the rear,” he finally ordered Frank. -“You take his legs, and I’ll manage his head.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>They lifted up Ned Griffith, who hung limp -and heavy in their hands, and set their faces -toward the dark hill whence the king’s army had -charged forth. The walk out into the field had -gone briskly enough, but there seemed no end to -the return journey. Again and again they had -to lay the injured man down while they recovered -breath; but though wounded stragglers -passed them, they saw none who could aid them, -so of necessity they lifted up their burden once -more and struggled on. Sometimes Frank panted -out a grumbling complaint, but Hugh made no -reply, for his eyes were on the wounded man’s -white face and parted lips, and he found himself -wondering how his father was faring in the battle, -and what might have befallen Dick Strangwayes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Of a sudden Frank, letting Griffith’s boots -come to the ground abruptly, began shouting -with all his strength to a brace of loiterers. -“Men of our troop,” he explained to Hugh, “and -not much wounded, Heaven be thanked for’t! -They can convey Ned to a surgeon, if such a one -is in the field, and we’ll back to see more.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Relinquishing their charge on such terms, they -set their faces again to the field of battle. It was -now drawing toward sundown, and the fire to -the south had slackened. “Mark my words, the -war is ended,” Frank lamented; “and we have had -no part in it, only to tramp about and look on -those others have killed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh must acknowledge to himself it had been -a grim afternoon’s work, so with some hope of -brisker adventures he followed willingly, as his -companion headed southerly toward the clearer -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>line of a road. “Maybe we’ll find our troop if we -walk toward Kineton,” Frank suggested. “And -we could ride back with them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, they should have taken some horses -from the rebels by this,” Hugh replied, with a nod -toward a corpse with an orange sash that lay on -the edge of the roadway. He stubbornly told -himself it was only another monument to the -Royalist fighting quality, and tried to believe he -had nearly deadened sympathy in him and calloused -his senses to the horror of what he must -endure if he would follow this life he had chosen.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They faced westward and tramped along the -road, but what with ruts and mire it proved -heavier walking than the fields. “Faith, I’m -weary of this,” Frank grumbled. “How much -farther to Kineton?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let’s bear off on the other side,” suggested -Hugh, peering through the gathering twilight. -“Yonder’s a bit of a hollow and it may be easier -going.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They crossed a piece of open level, and, holding -this the quickest way, jumped down the slight -pitch at its farther edge. As they recovered -footing, they perceived close before them in the -lee of the bank two bodies lying motionless, one -of which seemed that of an officer by its better -clothes and of a rebel by its orange sash. It was -the first officer of Essex’s army they had yet noted -among the dead, and, with a sudden fear that it -might be one of his own kindred, Hugh bent -over the corpse. Finding, to his relief, that the -face was strange to him, he was turning away, -when his eyes chanced to rest upon the other -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>body, that of a hulking common foot soldier. As -he gazed he thought to see a slight tremor pass -over it, so, stepping to the man as he lay on his -face, he shook him by the shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At the touch the fellow suddenly scrambled to -his knees. “Don’t kill me, master,” he whined. -“Give me quarter.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh had started back a step or two and -pulled out his pistol; the man was not even -scratched, he perceived, but had feigned dead. -Then he noted a basket-hilted sword with a -leathern baldric that had been concealed beneath -him as he lay, and he noted, too, that not only -did the dead officer wear no sword, but his -pockets had been turned inside out. “So that’s -your trade, is it?” Hugh cried. “Robbing the -dead of your own party, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll never do so no more,” whimpered the fellow. -“Don’t ’ee shoot.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The craven tone of the creature harked back -to something in Hugh’s memory; he leaned a -little forward and studied the man’s bearded, -low-browed face, then drew back with his pistol -cocked. “I remember you,” he said. “Are you -ready to pay back the two shillings and sixpence -you took from me on the Nottinghamshire crossroad?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is this the padder?” Frank struck in. “Put -a bullet through him, Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t ’ee shoot me, master,” the other begged. -“I did not kill ’ee then, and I might ha’.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am not going to shoot you,” Hugh replied, -“but you can give me over that sword to pay for -what you owe me. And remember, this pistol I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>hold now is in good order,” he added, for he half -suspected the fellow was plucking up courage as -he discovered it was only two lads, not a whole -troop, had come upon him. So he stood back -warily out of the plunderer’s reach, while Frank, -who was viewing the whole proceeding happily -like a holiday sport, took up the booty and passed -it over to him. Hugh gathered the baldric about -the sword in his left hand, a little hurriedly, for it -was beginning to dawn on him that he and Frank -had strayed pretty far, and where one live rebel -was there might be others. Just then, over in the -plain, he got sight of a straggling horseman or -two, so he turned upon Frank with a quick order: -“Clamber up the slope there and make for the -road briskly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He heard behind him the boy’s quick retreating -step, but his eyes were still fixed on the -scowling rebel, whom he thought well to cover -with his pistol. “Sit where you are,” he commanded -the man, “and offer to play me no -slippery tricks if you value your skin.” Thus -speaking, he backed toward the bank, which he -ascended slantingly, so as to keep an eye on the -fellow. But, chancing to look beyond him, he -saw one of the horsemen was already heading -in his direction, so he turned and fair ran for -the roadway, where Frank was halting for him. -“Run,” he called to the boy; “’tis a hornets’ nest -here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Without staying for farther questions, Frank -took to his heels down the road toward Kineton, -and Hugh, after one glance to the right where he -saw no stragglers of his own party, ran after him. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>At each stride he gained on him, for Frank’s -boots and cuirass encumbered the youngster; -capture was possible, it flashed through Hugh’s -head, and with it came the reflection that it would -be discreditable to be taken in the act of plundering -a private of foot, for others might not see the -justice of the case as clearly as he had seen it. -Then he found wit to think only of the hoof-beats -that were now sounding on the roadway behind -him, louder and louder, and, looking at Frank -stumbling on before him, he thought what an ill -return it would be for all Sir William’s kindness -to let harm come to the boy. So he halted -short and faced back; close behind him was one -trooper with a yellow sash and somewhat in his -rear came three others. How long the horse’s -head looked, Hugh reflected dazedly, and would -the man slash down at him with his sword and -make such a gash as he had seen upon Ned -Griffith? Then there was no space for reflection -or remembrance, only the horse’s head -grazed by him, he saw the man lean forward in -his saddle, and, thrusting up his pistol with the -muzzle aimed under the man’s upraised arm, he -fired. The sword grazed down weakly across -his shoulder, the edge slipping harmlessly over -the stout buff; then the sword fell to the roadway, -the horse clattered forward a pace or two, -and the rider reeled headlong from the saddle. -The horse went galloping away down the road -with the stirrups beating against his flanks.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A shout from behind brought Hugh to his -senses. He ran forward, got a fleeting sight of -the rebel trooper, who lay outstretched on his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>back in the roadway with a grayish shade gathering -on his face, then came up with Frank and -caught him by the arm. “Off the road, quick!” -he panted. “They’ll ride us down.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They went headlong over the low embankment -and struggled blindly forward into the field. -Hugh had jammed his pistol into his belt, wondering -how many seconds it would take him to -draw his sword clear for a final stand, when -Frank reeled up against him, crying: “My ankle! -I’ve wrenched it again.” With that he pitched -down at Hugh’s feet, and Hugh, clapping his -hand to the hilt of the sword, stood over him and -faced about. Then he saw the rebel horsemen -had drawn rein in the roadway and were watching -them but not following, behind him he heard -horses coming, and Frank, suddenly scrambling to -his feet, began shouting. “King’s men! Hurrah!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh turned about in time to see a little squad -of eight or ten horsemen with scarlet scarfs come -riding out of the twilight and pull up alongside -them. There was something familiar in the broad -shoulders of the leader and the gruff voice in -which he began: “’Tis happy for you, gentlemen, -that we—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Corporal Ridydale, have you forgot me?” -Hugh interrupted breathlessly, going up to the -man’s stirrup.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Forgot you, sir?” Ridydale made answer, -“Lord, no, sir. Jump up behind me. ’Tis not -a healthy place hereabouts for men of our color.—Here, -Rodes, take t’other young gentleman up -behind you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After delaying long enough to slip his new -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>baldric over his shoulder, Hugh scrambled up -behind Ridydale, and the little squad headed -across the field toward Edgehill. How had the -battle gone, Hugh asked, as soon as he had -recovered breath; and Ridydale told him the -Prince and Colonel Gwyeth had hunted the -rebels clear beyond Kineton. “The knaves -banged our troop some deal, but we had brave -plundering in the town,” the corporal ended. -“‘How has the day gone in the rest of the field?’ -I know not; we have done our part.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Colonel Gwyeth had no hurt?” Hugh broke in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No thanks to him that he hasn’t, the madman!” -Ridydale answered. “He would fight in his -shirt, for he swore these fellows were too paltry -for a gentleman to guard against. So he laid off -his armor ere he rode into the fight. Now that, -sir, is the temper the gentlemen of your house -have ever been of, and ’tis the only fitting temper.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It looked like the beginning of their usual -disagreement, so Hugh kept silent, the more -willingly since he found himself tired so that -even talking required exertion. He leaned rather -heavily against Ridydale, and watched the field, -that looked gray in the deepening twilight, slip -by them, and, when he shut his eyes, still saw the -field with the trampled bodies of men and writhing -chargers. Then, of a sudden, their horse -pulled up. “I take it we’ll rendezvous here,” he -heard the corporal say. “Perchance you’ll bide -with us till the colonel comes, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” Hugh said hurriedly, slipping down from -the horse. “Thank you, Ridydale. We’d have -been in a bad way but for you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>Then he stumbled away with Frank across the -hummocky plain, which darkness made all the -more treacherous, and, scrambling up the hill to -the broad summit, toiled about among the scattered -troops that were straggling back. “I am -clean <a id='corr168.6'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='spent,’'>spent”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_168.6'><ins class='correction' title='spent,’'>spent”</ins></a></span> his companion said sorrowfully. “I -would not be a foot soldier for all the gold in the -kingdom. Where think you my father is, Hugh?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We’ll try to find him,” Hugh answered, with -what cheerfulness he could summon, and turned -aside to ask a friendly-looking soldier if he knew -where Sir William Pleydall’s troop was stationed. -The man did not know, and, indeed, in the confusion -and darkness no one seemed to know anything; -so the two boys could only tramp up and -down, Frank expostulating crossly and Hugh too -utterly weary to respond, till at last they got sight -of a figure that looked familiar in the dusk. Running -thither they found it was Major Bludsworth, -whereupon Frank nearly hugged him. “I never -was so glad to see you before, sir,” he cried. -“Where is my father, and when are we going to -have anything to eat?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Bludsworth took Frank by the arm, and half -carried him a rod or so to a small fire beneath a -bank about which Sir William and a little knot of -his officers were standing. “Here’s a runaway -in quest of you, Sir William,” he announced -brusquely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Francis, you here?” Sir William asked, with -some displeasure.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Prithee, do not be angry, sir,” Frank protested, -“I’ve had a gallant day of it. And I have -not had the least hurt. And Hugh here killed a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>man, sir. And has Dick Strangwayes brought -back my Jade?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The beast is unscathed,” answered Sir William, -drawing Frank to him with a hand on his shoulder. -“And another time you may as well ride in on her -back at the start and done with.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Master Strangwayes has come out safe, then?” -Hugh’s eagerness made him strike in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No hurt at all, his usual fortune,” Sir William -replied, before he turned away to one of those -beside him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh had to check his questions on his tongue’s -end, and wait and look about in the hope each instant -that Dick might come tramping to the fire. -But the minutes ran on, Frank had settled himself -by the blaze, and Sir William had no time to heed -a boy’s concerns, so Hugh must finally take courage -and, going to Bludsworth, ask of Dick’s whereabouts. -“Young Strangwayes?” replied the major. -“Why, he has gone back to the house we quartered -at; some one had to convey Cornet Griffith thither.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, he’s left the road behind him,” Hugh -answered stoutly, and, turning from the fire, faced -into the black of the night.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At first, what with the foot and horse soldiers -and camp followers to be met, the gleam of the -bivouac fires on either hand, and the tumult of -the army all about him, it was brisk enough journeying. -But, as he passed out from the circle of -the encampment and the bustle around him subsided, -he found his riding-boots felt heavy and the -going was far slower than it had been that morning. -It was dark overhead, so he stumbled, and -once his new sword tripped him. He put his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>hand to the hilt so as to strike up the blade, -and then as he trudged he fell to wondering what -manner of man the sword had belonged to, and -he thought on the trooper with the wound in his -throat, and the many faces of dead men. When -a branch snapped in a copse to his left he halted -short with his heart thumping, then told himself -he was a fool and tried to whistle as he walked. -But there came on him a desire to look back over -his shoulder, and the echo of his whistle made his -blood thrill unpleasantly. There was a thicket -he must pass through, he remembered, before he -reached the manor house; he dreaded it long, -and, when he came to it, clinched his hands tight -and walked slowly, while the gray face of the -trooper he had himself slain dazzled up and -down before his eyes. Half through the thicket -he broke into a run, and, with not even will -enough left in his tired body to restrain himself, -plunged heavily across the open to the door -of the hall, where there was light. He stumbled -against the door, which resisted, and, in a panic he -could not comprehend, he shook it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gently, gently,” came a voice that calmed him. -The door swung open, and in the candlelight that -shone within he saw Dick Strangwayes, with -his cuirass and helmet off, his coat hanging unfastened, -and the same old half-laughing look in -his eyes, while his lips kept sober.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh pitched in headlong and blindly griped -his friend in his arms. “Dick, Dick,” he burst -out, “I have found you. And, Dick, I—I killed -a man to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is that all?” Strangwayes drawled with one -arm about him. “Why, I killed three.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XI <br /> <span class='small'>COMRADES IN ARMS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>There were no dreams for Hugh after he had -stretched himself out on a bench in the hall as -Strangwayes bade him. He was too exhausted -in body and spirit to question or speak; he -only knew he was glad he had found his friend -once more, and the cushion beneath his head felt -soft, so he went dead asleep, and lost at last -the remembrance of the sights of the day’s carnage. -He had no dreams and he was loath -even to have a waking; some one shook him again -and yet again, but he only murmured drowsily, -with a voice that seemed far off to him, till he -was pulled up sitting. He screwed his knuckles -into his eyes, turning his face from the candlelight, -and he heard Strangwayes laugh: “Look -you here, Captain Turner. This gentleman must -have a clear conscience by the way he sleeps.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The thought that Turner’s sharp eyes were on -him made Hugh face about and sit blinking at -the candles. The hall where they had that morning -eaten was quite bare now and dark, except -for the two flickering candles and the uncertain -firelight. In front of the chimney-piece Turner, -all equipped to ride forth, was making a lunch of -a biscuit and a glass of wine he held in his hands, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>and the only other occupant of the apartment -was Dick Strangwayes, who, wrapped to the chin -in his cloak, stood by the bench. “Awake, eh?” -he smiled down at Hugh. “Good morrow, then.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What’s the time?” Hugh asked, peering across -the hall at the windows, which were squares of -blackness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Past two and nipping cold. Are you fit to -ride back to the field with us?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For answer Hugh staggered to his feet, marvelling -at the stiffness in his legs, and tried to -hold himself erect. “Here, on with this,” said -Strangwayes, throwing a cloak about him. “I -judged ’twas yours, and if ’tis not, the man who -left his goods so careless deserves to lose them. -And slip this sash over your sword-belt. It was -Ned Griffith’s, but he’ll not need—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He’s not dead?” Hugh broke out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, no; but he’ll be of little more use than a -dead man for the next four months. Slash in -the breast and his leg broke by some of our horse -as he lay. You’ll need to look you out a new -cornet, Captain Turner.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They dropped my lieutenant, too, down by -Kineton,” said Turner, putting by his glass. -“Gwyeth’s troop and mine, there on the flank, -we suffered for it. Do you judge those knaves -will have the horses saddled ere daybreak?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is there more fighting to come?” Hugh questioned -sleepily, as he tried to tie the scarlet sash -across his chest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Enough to flesh that maiden sword of yours,” -Turner paused at the door to reply. “By the -bye, Master Strangwayes, is it true that Captain -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>Peyton was slain in the charge? He owes me -five sovereign on my wager that neither side -could call the day theirs, and if he has got himself -killed!” Turner shrugged his shoulders and -passed out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What has brought him hither?” Hugh -yawned.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Poor old lad! Eat a bit and try to wake up,” -urged Strangwayes. “What has brought Michael -Turner? Why, his love for that poor little troop -he let get so wofully peppered in the fight. He -has been ravaging the country for a horse-load -of bread with which to fill their stomachs, ere the -battle he is sure will come this day. And now, -question for question, what brings you here, so -far from Colonel Gwyeth?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh put down on the table the piece of bread -he had been eating, and looked across at Strangwayes, -then blurted out plainly the whole story. -He was glad to find he could tell it almost without -passion now, with not a censuring word for -Colonel Gwyeth, and even with an effort to make -a jest of some of the happenings. He heard -Strangwayes mutter something like an oath when -he described his first meeting with the colonel, -but there was not another sound till he told of -the affair with Hardwyn; then Strangwayes drew -in his breath between his teeth and turned toward -the fire. Hugh concluded hurriedly and half -frightened, and waited for an answer; then broke -out, “Dick, sure you’re not going to despise me -for it as he does?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes came to him and put both hands -on his shoulders. “No, Hugh,” he said, “I need -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>all the scorn that’s at my command for that precious -father of yours.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The jar of the opening door made them stand -apart and face to the end of the hall, as Turner -looked in to say, “Do you ride with me, gentlemen?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Outside, a chilly wind that stung the face was -abroad, and the sky was black with clouds. Hugh -paused on the threshold to blink the candlelight -out of his eyes, then, peering into the dark, made -out the dim figures of Turner, already in the saddle, -and of two of his mounted troopers who held -led horses, and, last of all, let his gaze rest on a -half-wakened groom who came up with two fully -equipped chargers. At sight of them Hugh -jumped down from the doorstone, and, after one -closer glance, cried, “Why, Dick, will you suffer -me ride the bay?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The bay?” Strangwayes answered from the -black horse’s back. “Your bay, you young fool! -Why in the name of reason did you not keep the -beast with you, since you captured him?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh settled himself in the saddle and turned -the horse’s head in his companion’s tracks, too -full of joy to heed anything, save that the bay -that had known him in the Everscombe stables, -that Peregrine Oldesworth would not suffer him -even to stroke, was now his, all his. He put out -one hand to stroke the warm neck, and whistled -softly to see the slender ears erected.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hold up, man! You’re riding me down,” -came Strangwayes’ voice beside him, and he -found he had pushed forward till they were -crowding knee to knee.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>“Do you honestly mean me to keep this fellow?” -Hugh asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you can,” Strangwayes replied; “I’m thinking -you’ll keep him on three legs if you do not -spare talk and look to him over this rough -ground.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laughed happily, then drew the reins -tauter in his hands, and strained his eyes into the -dark ahead lest some pitfall open to swallow up -the bay horse from under him. The road was so -short, as he traversed it now, that he was sorry -when the fires on Edgehill twinkled in the distance, -and, picking their way cautiously, they -came to the rendezvous of Turner’s troop. “I -am keeping by the captain, do you see?” Strangwayes -whispered Hugh as they dismounted. “He -has lost his lieutenant, and Sir William has promised -to set me in the first vacancy.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Of the rest of the night Hugh only remembered -that his knees were very warm with the fire by -which he sat, and his back was cold in spite of -his cloak. The flames crackled bravely, and -Strangwayes talked nonsense, to which Captain -Turner listened in deep and sober approbation. -But Hugh, crowded close up to Strangwayes, said -nothing, just gazed at the fire and closed his eyes -once in a while, till at last he went ignominiously -asleep with his head on his friend’s shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Waking with neck stiff and arm cramped, he -found to his delight the east all pale in the dawn, -so, slipping the bridle of the bay horse over his -arm, he went strolling across the encampment till -he could find out Frank and show him his new -mount. But Frank, now confident in the possession -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>of The Jade, discovered many flaws in the -bay, which he set forth in horseman-like phrases -till Hugh went sauntering back again to Strangwayes. -At Turner’s fire he found a newcomer, a -brown-haired young officer, who had once taken -him for a horse-boy, whom Strangwayes now -made known to him under the name of George -Allestree, guidon in Captain Butler’s dragoons, -and serving as a volunteer at Edgehill. Discreetly -ignoring their former meeting, Allestree -was effusively grateful to Hugh for the use of the -bay, which Strangwayes had lent him to ride -thither, and altogether proved so pleasant spoken -a fellow that Hugh ended by putting out of mind -the memory of his previous conduct.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With Allestree and Strangwayes Hugh passed -the long day, now talking a bit by the ashes of -last night’s fire, then rising to stretch his legs -and look to his horse, then back to the fire again, -where he ate such rations as were dealt to him -and felt rather hungry afterward. It was a day -of uncertainty and idleness beneath which lay a -tense expectancy; any moment a blow might be -struck for the king, yet the moments passed and -nothing was done. About noon Turner stalked -off to confer with Sir William, but he came back -whistling and non-committal; indeed, there was -nothing but the old story to tell: his Majesty’s -army rested on Edgehill and my Lord Essex’s -army was drawn up in the plain below, and each -looked at the other, but neither moved to strike.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were not up in action till mid-afternoon of -the next day, when there came word the rebels -were retreating, and, right on the heels of that, a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>definite order for the horse to form in the plain. -Once more Hugh scrambled down the slope of -Edgehill, but this time his feet were braced in the -stirrups, his sword smote against his horse’s flank, -and all about him, in loud talk of the victory they -were soon to gain, other mounted men were descending. -Once more he had sight of ranks of -horsemen marshalling for a charge, but now he was -himself in the thick of it, and, when the word was -passed along, waved his sword with the rest, then -galloped forward amidst his comrades. Before him -the plain swept into the western sky, where the -clouds were shiny with the sun they hid, the wind -came sharp in his face, and around him men shouted -and horses plunged till his own beast, too, catching -the joy of movement, reared up. This was -war, Hugh thought, and only for a second recalled -it was the same bloody field over which he had -tramped not eight and forty hours ago. Then -across the plain he saw a cluster of roofs, and, -as they spurred faster, made out the windows of -the cottages, and men moving in the street. At -that the shouting in the ranks about him became -a yell of onset, and he, too, rising up in his stirrups, -screamed, “For a king, a king!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Of what followed nothing was quite clear. -There were houses, a woman that ran shrieking -in front of his horse, and a Roundhead soldier he -saw bleeding upon a doorstone. He heard shots -to the front, saw some of his side press past him -in flight, and after that he was mixed in a confusion -of horses and men of both parties. He -struck wildly in with his sword, whereat a Royalist -dragoon, swinging round in his saddle, cursed him -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>volubly in German and in English as not old -enough to be trusted with cutting tools, and crowding -past the man he left him still cursing. Then -he was wedged into a lane, where was a baggage-wagon -with a teamster on it who tried to lash -forward his four horses. One Cavalier trooper -slashed up at the fellow where he sat, while another -was cutting the traces. Up at the far end -of the lane was a shouting, “The rebels are -coming!” Hugh urged the bay forward to the -heads of the leaders, and, bending from the saddle, -cut the traces with his sword. Then a ruck of -the Royalist troops was about him, and, as men -caught at the freed horses, he judged it proper to -seize one of them by the bit and hold to him, -while the crowd forced him back down the lane, -past the wagon and the teamster dead beneath -its wheels. From the rear came shots, but there -was no facing about in such a throng, so with the -rest Hugh swept back at a gallop through Kineton -out into the open country.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The pace slackening now, he slipped his sword -back into the sheath, and, taking time to look -about him, saw some of those who rode near had -been cut, but he himself and his two horses were -without a scratch. Turning in the saddle to gaze -back, he saw other bands of horse come straggling -behind them. “Is the fight all over?” he -asked a trooper who trotted beside him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Over?” swore the fellow. “What more d’ye -want?” Then he looked pretty sharply at Hugh, -and ended by offering to lead the wagon-horse for -him, an offer the boy refused. Next the trooper, -assuring Hugh he might have no end of difficulties -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>in maintaining his right in the capture, proposed -to give him ten shillings for the beast. -What more he would say Hugh never found out, -for, as they rode at a slackened pace a little on -the flank, a horseman from the rear came charging -into them, stared, and cried Hugh’s name. It -was Bob Saxon of Gwyeth’s troop, who, scenting -a matter of horse-dealing, voluntarily came in, and, -falling upon the other man, bepraised the captured -horse till he clean talked the fellow out of -the field.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ten shillings?” Saxon repeated contemptuously -to Hugh, “Lord forgive the knave! The -beast is worth fifty. Come along with me, sir, -and I’ll find you a market.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They made a great circuit off to the north of -the field and about dusk fetched up in a hamlet -to the rear of the army, whither Royalist troops -were now marching from Edgehill to seek quarters. -Saxon gathered some half score of dragoons -and a petty officer or two in the street before the -village inn, where, with loud swearing and shouting, -he showed off to them the captured horse. -There followed much chaffering and wrangling, -with Saxon’s voice loudest, which ended in the -paying of the money and the delivering over of -the beast. “Fifty shillings, as I promised you, -sir,” Saxon announced, as he told them into -Hugh’s hand, with a suggestive look that made -Hugh pass him back five for himself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’re a good piece of a gentleman, sir,” the -trooper said candidly, as they rode out from the -hamlet. “Be you never going to serve under -Colonel Gwyeth?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>Hugh winced and answered “No,” then, bidding -Saxon good-bye, headed for the manor house, -which he was not able to discover till mid-evening. -It was a relief to find himself safe among -his comrades, for he was so conscious of the forty-five -shillings in his pocket that he felt sure every -prowler and hanger-on of the camp must have -marked them for plunder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>From the field of Edgehill the royal army -marched to Banbury, which yielded to them unresistingly. -To Hugh this was far pleasanter -marching than the passage through Warwickshire, -for not only did he now wear a sword and -a red sash that marked him of the king’s men, but -he had his own horse, Bayard, as he had named -him for his bay color. The animal contented -him very well, though Frank and The Jade -distanced him whenever they raced a piece. -“Bayard is no ambler; he was built for serious -work in the field,” Hugh replied loftily to Frank’s -jeers, and betook himself to Dick Strangwayes, -whose mere presence was comforting. He trailed -along at Dick’s side, ate with him, and shared -his bed, and, in return, would gladly have cleaned -Dick’s boots and groomed his horse, the horse -that had once belonged to Captain Oldesworth. -He knew better, however, than to offer such service, -so he satisfied himself with taking their two -horses to stable, and standing over the groom -who cared for them to see the task was done without -shirking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>On the night they lay at Banbury he came in -from such labor and in their chamber found -Strangwayes unbuckling his cuirass, and singing, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>which was with him a sign of either very good or -very bad fortune. “What’s to do, Dick?” Hugh -asked, lighting a candle at the fireplace.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What do you say to a lieutenancy to the front -of my name again, and over seasoned fighting -men this time, not Jacks such as I misgoverned -in the Scots war?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sir William has given you the lieutenancy -under Turner?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, and on the heel of that comes better: -Turner’s troop rides for service into Northamptonshire -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s well,” Hugh answered rather sorrowfully, -as he put the candle on the table. “Luck go -with you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come along and bring it to us. Ay, you’re -to go. I told my uncle we could use you as a -volunteer. You see, the troop is short one officer -since Griffith left.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes?” Hugh urged, with curiosity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m promising you nothing, remember,” Strangwayes -continued soberly. “But there’s that vacant -cornetcy, and you’re a lad of a steady courage,—I -pray you, spare blushing,—and of a discreeter -head than most of your years. Now, first, you’re -to ride with us and do all you can to satisfy Captain -Turner.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dick, I cannot satisfy him,” Hugh gasped, -almost bewildered by the coolness and breadth of -Strangwayes’ plan. “Captain Turner never does -aught but mock me; I’m near as unhappy with -him as with my father.” He could have bit his -tongue for the ease with which it let slip such -a piece of the truth, but Strangwayes only gave -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>him one involuntary look, then changed the subject -hastily to the matter of the raid into Northamptonshire.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Next day, when his Majesty and his men rode -south for Oxford, Captain Turner, Lieutenant -Strangwayes, and Volunteer Gwyeth, with some -forty troopers, got to saddle and went cantering -eastward, to their own pleasure and the discomfort -of more than one Puritan of Northamptonshire. -It was partisan warfare, but Turner waged -it honorably; and Hugh, after he once got used -to riding with his hand on his hilt through villages -of hostile, scowling people, had no quarrel with -the life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They made their first dash for a country-house -where arms and powder were stored; there was -slight resistance, a shot or two without damage, a -door battered in, and then Hugh was detailed -with five men to ransack a wing of the house -where were the kitchen and offices. As they -found nothing they only wearied themselves with -the thorough search Hugh insisted on, and got -laughed at for their pains by a fat kitchen wench. -But Strangwayes and his squad captured six muskets -and a keg of powder, though he came away -grumbling. “No more work of that sort for -me,” he confided to Hugh. “You, you rogue, -were safe in the buttery, while I was rummaging -the parlor, and the gentlewomen stood off with -their skirts gathered round them and glowered -on me as if I were a cutpurse. I’m thinking the -time will never come that women understand the -laws of war.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Afterward they struck into a small town where -<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>more powder was said to be hid. Across the narrow -part of the main street the people had built -a barricade of carts and household stuff, so Turner, -after reconnoitring, determined on a charge. -“You had best bear the colors, Gwyeth,” he said, -as the troop fell into order outside the village. -“Strangwayes must ride at the rear, and, in any -case, his two arms are of more profit to us than -yours.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh forgave the sneer as the cornet of the -troop was put into his hands. Like all Sir -William’s cornets, it was a red flag with a golden -ball upon it, the prettiest colors in the world, -Hugh considered, except the black flag with the -cross of gold that Colonel Gwyeth’s troop marched -under. Settling the staff firmly against his thigh, -he glanced up to see the folds of the flag droop -in the still air, then took his place by Turner at -the front of the troop, and, a moment later, charged -in behind him. The stones clicked beneath the -horses’ feet, the cottages sped by, the barricade, -whence came the hateful spitting of muskets, was -right before them. Hugh swerved for the left -end, where the structure was lowest, and Bayard, -gathering himself up, cleared it at a leap. Behind -the barricade were men of all coats, some loading -and steadily firing, but more already scrambling -down to flee. One, crying out at sight of Hugh, -broke away the faster; another levelled a pistol at -him, but before he could fire Bayard’s hoofs had -struck him into the kennel. Then the whole -barricade seemed to go down as the Cavaliers, -some still in the saddle, others dismounted to -scramble the better, came pouring over.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>Thus the king’s men possessed themselves of -the town and took the powder, which for some -days to come supplied them. But there was a -price to pay, for in the encounter they had two -men wounded, one of whom died that night, and -on the morrow before they marched was buried -in an orchard. Hugh never forgot the look of -the leafless trees, the frosty ground, and the silent -men, who stood drawn up, with their breastpieces -strapped in place, all ready to mount. Each tenth -man sat his horse with the bridles of his comrades’ -steeds in his hand, and there, at a little -distance from the horses, some of the townspeople, -loitering with curious, unsympathetic -faces, peered and pointed at those about the -grave. They buried the dead trooper without -his armor, but with his cloak wrapped round him, -and Strangwayes, standing with his helmet under -one arm, read the burial service. For the life of -him Hugh could not help thinking of that sermon -Dick had once preached to Emry and his friends, -and there came on him an unbecoming desire to -laugh, which mixed with a choke in his throat so -his lips moved till he was well assured Captain -Turner must think him no better than a child.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The morning sunlight was strong when they -rode away from the orchard, and half a mile out -the troopers were swearing good-humoredly at -each other, and Strangwayes was jesting at the -bravery of the town watch, a single countryman -whom he had hauled out, roaring for mercy, from -beneath an empty cart. Hugh laughed at the -tale, and laid it to heart that in war no man can -hold regrets long, for his turn may come next, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>and what little life may be left him is not given -to be needlessly saddened.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So he designedly carried a light heart under -his buff jacket, and seized what enjoyment he -could from the small matters of everyday work. -He was happy when they had broiled bacon or a -chicken for supper, which was not often, and -thankful for any makeshift of a bed; he took -pleasure in cantering Bayard at the head of the -troop, and watching the red and gold cornet -flutter and flap above him; and he liked the -fierce, hard knocks of the skirmishes they had, -in little villages and at lonely country-houses, -here and there through the shire. But when -food failed and there was no bed but the ground, -when he was weary and sore with much riding, -even on that one wretched day when a troop of -Roundhead dragoons fell on them and sent them -scampering with three saddles empty, he got his -best content from Strangwayes’ friendship, which -made him surer of himself and readier to face -the world, yet humbler in his efforts to keep the -affection of the older man.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The thought that the winning of a commission -in that troop meant more such days of service -with Strangwayes caused Hugh to redouble his -efforts to please Turner, and he succeeded so far -that after the first skirmish the captain suffered -him to carry the cornet. For the rest, Turner -met all his honest efforts and prompt obedience -with sarcasms on his youth and simplicity, which -made Hugh wince and go on laboring bravely. -Only one word of approbation did he get of -Turner; that was on a pouring wet night when -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>Hugh came in from a watch with the pickets, -soaked to the skin, and, finding no food, lay down -without a word on the floor of the cottage where -the officers were quartered, and went sound asleep. -Through his waking he could have sworn he -heard Turner say, “After all, Lieutenant, there’s -the right mettle in this crop-headed whelp.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Though when Hugh opened his eyes and saw -Turner standing over him with a candle in his -hand, the latter only said, “My faith, sir, do you -ever do aught but sleep?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thus with work and enjoyment of work the -month of November passed, and meantime his -Majesty with the bulk of his army had marched -to London, and then marched back again. Afterward -men said a kingdom might have been -gained upon that journey and had been cast away, -but at that time Turner’s troop had only rumors -of marches and countermarches, till in the early -December a definite order reached them to repair -to the king’s headquarters at Oxford and join -themselves to their regiment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was in the mid-afternoon that they at last -rode into the city, where the High Street was gay -with bravely dressed men and sleek horses, and -the old gray buildings seemed alive with people. -So many fine troops were passing and re-passing -that none gave special heed to the little muddy -band out of Northamptonshire. They passed unnoticed -out by the North Gate toward the parish -of St. Giles, where quarters had been assigned -Sir William’s regiment, and there, in the dingy -stable, the officers parted. Hugh of necessity -surrendered the cornet into Turner’s hands with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>a last regretful look at its idle folds. “You made -shift not to lose it, did you not, sir?” the captain -said with some kindness. “Why, you’re no more -of an encumbrance to a troop of fighting men -than most youngsters are.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then Turner and Strangwayes walked away to -report themselves to Sir William, while Hugh -remained to see that Bayard and Dick’s Black -Boy were well groomed. To tell the truth, he -was glad to linger in the stable with the men -among whom he had spent the last month; he -wondered if he was to have the chance to serve -with them always, and the thought made him -nearly tremble with expectancy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was loitering by the stable door, when he -caught sight of a familiar blue jacket, and Frank -Pleydall, in company with two lads of his own -age, came swaggering up. “So you’re back -again, are you, Hugh?” he cried, with a boisterous -embrace. “And more freckled than ever, I -swear! Is that heavy-heeled horse of yours still -unfoundered? Nay, don’t scowl, I mean nothing. -But tell me, is Michael Turner’s troop here or in -the stable across the way? I want to have a -look at its fighting force.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Wherefore?” Hugh blurted out suspiciously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, I’m to hold Griffith’s cornetcy in it. -Such labor as I had to win it, Hugh. Talk to -my father night and day, swear I had the strength -and discretion of twenty, vow to run away if he -gave it not to me, so in the end I secured it of -him. Cornet Pleydall; how like you the sound? -I told you I’d coax a commission of him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You will find Captain Turner a gallant man -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>to serve under,” Hugh said, after a moment. -“Good-bye, Frank, I’m weary now. I’ll speak -with you to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With that he passed out into the street and -headed aimlessly, he cared not whither. He had -not known till now how sure he had felt of that -cornetcy. And that a mere boy like Frank should -be preferred over him, because his kinsfolk gave -him their countenance! For one instant he -almost had it in his heart to wish himself back at -Everscombe, still believing in his father, and still -confident the world stood ready to receive a man -kindly for his own endeavors.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Too wretched to think or lay a plan for the -future, he plodded up and down the crowded -streets till it grew dusk and pitchy dark, when -sheer weariness turned him to his quarters; at -least Strangwayes was his friend. The thought -put more life into his step and made him hurry a -little with impatience till he had sought out the -baker’s shop, in an upper chamber of which they -were to lodge. To his disappointment Dick had -not yet come in, so Hugh, without spirit enough -to light a candle, sat down on a stool by the fire -with his chin in his hands and waited.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When he heard Strangwayes’ step outside, -he endeavored to force a gay tone and shouted -him a greeting, but now he tried to use it his -voice broke helplessly. “There, I’ve heard it -all, Hugh,” Strangwayes said, and made no movement -to get a light; “and I’m thinking Turner -takes it as ill as we do. He kept an assenting -face to Sir William, of course, but he blurted -out to me that the deuce was in it that a little -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>popinjay like Frank must be thrust into our -troop.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh forced a desperate laugh that ended in -a choke.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And I’ve another piece of news for you,” -Strangwayes went on, sitting down beside him. -“Now you can take it as good or bad, which -you please. I’m not resolved yet myself. You’ll -recollect Peyton was shot at Edgehill, and we -lost many men from the regiment. Well, they’ve -taken another troop that suffered much and used -it to fill up the place. And a new captain has -been put over it under Sir William.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is it you, Dick?” Hugh asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay,” Strangwayes answered, with a chuckle; -“’tis a one time independent colonel, Alan -Gwyeth.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XII <br /> <span class='small'>FOR THE HONOR OF THE GWYETHS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“You’re free to take it as you choose, good -or ill,” Strangwayes went on; “but I can tell -you Colonel Gwyeth is in no two minds about -it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am sorry for him,” Hugh answered, after -an instant. “I know it does wring a man to -lose a commission out of his very hands.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Since I must steer to the windward of hypocrisy, -I am <em>not</em> sorry for him,” Strangwayes returned. -“And do not you worry yourself over -his broken spirit, Hugh; so far he has borne -up stoutly. At the last report he was ranging -about with his sword at ready, bent on scoring -out all his wrongs upon Master Philip Bellasis.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Philip Bellasis?” queried Hugh, struggling -to recall what that name stood for. “What has -he to do in this matter?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The simplicity of untutored youth!” Strangwayes’ -voice came pityingly. “Why, ’tis clear -as most logic: my Lord Bellasis of the king’s -council disapproves of these small independent -troops, and has given his voice loudest, ’tis said, -for merging Gwyeth’s horse into Sir William’s -regiment; <em>ergo</em>, Colonel Gwyeth has taken my -Lord Bellasis into his hatred. My Lord Bellasis -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>is blessed with the gout; <em>ergo</em>, Colonel -Gwyeth, not to waste so precious a commodity -as hatred upon a disabled man, transfers all his -intentions to my lords swashbuckling son Philip. -For, granting the colonel’s temper, he must fight -something now, and he would vastly prefer something -of the name of Bellasis.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh still kept his old place without offering -comment, so Strangwayes, after a moment or -two, rose and lit a candle at the hearth. He -did not pause even to slip off his accoutrements, -but, holding the light, began roaming about the -chamber on inspection, and communicating the -results of his researches to his companion: “We -might be worse placed. Two flights of stairs -upward from the ground, so the air should be -delicate and wholesome. Also the room is so -small the fireplace ought to heat it well. And -for the lack of furnishings, the emptiness near -cheats a man into believing he has space enough -to stretch himself. A contented spirit, mark you, -is an admirable necessity in a soldier.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the end he brought up at the nearer of the -two windows, which he opened, and, after a long -look out into the night, drew in his head again -with a soberer face. “If I risked myself a hand-breadth -further from the casement, I think I -could make out the roofs of St. John’s,” he said, -sitting down quietly, with the one small table -betwixt himself and Hugh. “’Tis the good old -college of which I was so unworthy a son. I am -glad we lie near it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where is the rest of the regiment?” Hugh -asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>“Sir William and most of his officers lodge -just over the way at a merchant’s house; Turner -and Chadwell and Seymour are here under the -roof with us. We’ll all meet together at Sir -William’s table.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh started back on his stool so he nearly -overset himself. “Dick,” he burst out, “that -means that thrice a day I shall be forced face to -face with Colonel Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes nodded, and then, the sheer absurdity -of the whole position coming over them, -they both went into a fit of laughter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh recovered himself with a saner feeling of -self-possession. “After all, it’s very simple,” he -said aloud; “he’ll take no note of me, I know, -and I’ll bear me as I would to Captain Turner, -or any of the older men.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But, in spite of his stout words, when he woke -in the dark of next morning Hugh could not -sleep again for thinking of Colonel Gwyeth, and -wondering if he would see him at breakfast and -if the colonel would speak to him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When he first entered the long upper chamber -of the house across the way that served the officers -for dining hall, he looked about him, half -eager and half in dread, and despising himself for -both emotions. But he saw no sign of Alan -Gwyeth, Colonel Gwyeth, as he named him to -himself, for all he was now a mere captain. Two -of the officers of the old independent troop, a -German, Von Holzberg, and a certain Foster, who -had come over into the regiment with the colonel, -Frank pointed out to him; but Hugh only glanced -at the men and went on eating. He wondered if -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>it had been either of them that shoved him off -the steps that night at Shrewsbury, and he had -no desire to come in contact with them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After breakfast Frank Pleydall haled him off to -view the city. “You might spare me one hour -away from your Dick Strangwayes,” the younger -lad complained. “But I knew after you got sight -of him you’d not have a word for me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt conscience-stricken, so he forced -himself to be very pleasant to Frank, in spite of -the boy’s persisting in talking of Turner’s troop -and his new cornetcy. Before they reached the -High Street of the city, however, they were joined -by several other youngsters, one a lad from Magdalen, -the others, boys whose fathers were serving -the king, with all of whom Frank seemed to have -a ripe acquaintance. Hugh concluded Master -Pleydall was not suffering for companionship, and -presently he concluded, too, it was a companionship -into which he could not hope to enter. He -had an unhappy feeling of aloofness from the -amusements of these boys; he knew next to -nothing of bowls or dice of which they spoke, -and when one lad began to jeer another about a -girl, he did not understand. So presently he -took his leave of Frank, who was too busied with -his comrades to take much heed of his going, and -started back by himself to his quarters.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was walking rather slowly, to study the -landmarks he had noted and find his way without -inquiry, when some one took him a boisterous -clap on the shoulder. Facing about with a deal -of indignation in his movement, he found it was -George Allestree, who merely stood back and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>laughed at him. “You need but two wings to -make a paragon of a turkey cock, Hugh Gwyeth,” -he said amusedly. “Are you looking for diversion? -Come along with me. I am sick for some -one to talk with.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Perhaps it was not a complimentary invitation, -but Allestree followed it up by being so cordial -and jolly that Hugh went with him out to the -walks of Magdalen, and back into the city -to dine at an ordinary. They had only just -come out into the street again, when Hugh perceived -a sudden surging of the foot passengers -about him to the edge of the kennel, and such -horsemen as were passing drew to the side to -leave the way clear. Then some one raised a -cry, “The king!” and others began cheering. -Allestree caught Hugh’s sleeve and drew him up -a flight of steps, whence, looking over the heads of -the people, they could see a little band of mounted -gentlemen come slowly pacing down the High -Street.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Look you there, ’tis Prince Rupert,” Allestree -cried loudly, to be heard through the cheering, -and Hugh took a long look at a tall young -man in a scarlet coat, whose whole attention was -fixed upon his restless horse. Then he heard the -cheers redouble, and Allestree had now joined his -voice to the uproar. Right before the spot where -he stood Hugh got sight in the midst of the -horsemen of one with a pointed beard and slender -face, who bowed his head never so slightly to -those who cheered around him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then the horsemen had passed by, men -turned to go their way once more, and Allestree -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>replaced his hat on his head. “Had you lost -your voice, Hugh, that you could not cheer?” he -asked curiously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” Hugh answered, as he followed down -from the steps, “I was thinking.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis a bad practice. What was it of?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was thinking his Majesty looks much as -other men.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Indeed? And what else?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was wondering,” Hugh said half to himself, -“which had the right of it, you that do ever so -extol him, or my grandfather who laid the blame -of all this on him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because your hair is clipped you’ve no need -to wear ‘Roundhead’ in your heart,” Allestree -answered sharply. “None but a boy or a fool -would speak so.” Then, as Hugh looked abashed, -the other moderated his tone, and, talking carelessly -of this and that, they came at length to -Allestree’s quarters, close outside the North Gate.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There Allestree would have Hugh out to the -troop stables, to show him Captain Butler’s gamecocks; -and, in the midst of it, Butler himself -walked into the stable. Hugh remembered his -dark, low-browed face very well from their first -encounter, but he was surprised and a little flattered -also to find the captain knew him at the -mention of his name. “The brave lad that saved -me my old friend Strangwayes,” Butler said, -with a bit of an Irish accent, and shook hands -kindly, then lingered to set forth the graces of the -gamecocks. “Gloucestershire birds, those,” he -explained. “They were hatched of rebel eggs, -but I held it sin to leave them to tempt a good -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>Puritan brother into seeing a cockfight. So I -just made bold to muster them into the king’s -service.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We must put them to’t soon, Captain,” said -Allestree, and, when Hugh left them, a good hour -later, they were still discussing the cocks.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was near dark when Hugh came at last to -Sir William’s quarters. The loud talk of the -men above stairs brought him at once up to the -dining room, where he found several officers loitering. -“Trust that red devil Gwyeth,” Lieutenant -Chadwell was saying; “he ran Bellasis down, be -sure.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Fight, did they?” asked another.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They set out together this afternoon. Yes, -they’ve crossed blades ere this.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you know who had the better of it?” -Hugh cried, thrusting himself into the circle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Chadwell looked up at him impatiently, then -answered, “No”; and Hugh, staying for no more, -ran out of the room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Clattering down the stairway to the outer door, -he dodged by Turner, who, facing about on the -stair, called, “Whither are you summoned in such -haste?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To the city. To get news of the duel,” -Hugh replied, over his shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s no need to go that far,” Turner answered -moderately; and then, as Hugh came -stumbling back to him up the stairs, went on: -“Bellasis was worsted, a thrust through the -shoulder. Captain Gwyeth came off unscathed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was afraid—” Hugh said, clinching his -hand about the balustrade as he stood.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>“Of what?” Turner questioned dryly. “Has the -gentleman been such a good friend—” He broke -off there, and looked at Hugh. “I crave your -pardon for that last, Master Gwyeth,” he said, -without sarcasm, and walked away up the stairs.</p> - -<p class='c007'>That night at supper it seemed marvellous to -Hugh that men could speak or think of anything -but the duel. However, there was more speech -of fortifying the city and of the storming of Marlborough -than of Captain Gwyeth’s affairs, so he -was glad to get away to his room, where at least -there were none to interrupt his own thoughts.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Late in the evening Strangwayes joined him. -“Yes, yes, you can spare words; I’ve heard all -about that duel,” he greeted Hugh; “and the -town’ll hear more to-morrow. Captain Gwyeth -has just sent a message to Sir William; he passed -it on to me, and I’ll do the like by you. Hang me -if the provost did not pounce down on the captain -almost ere he quit the field, and haled him off to -the Castle. They want no duelling among the -king’s men.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will they punish him?” Hugh asked breathlessly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Much!” Strangwayes answered, with vast contempt. -“He did but nick Bellasis, and if report -be true that fellow’s injury is no loss to the kingdom. -If he had killed him it might be otherwise, -for Bellasis has great kindred, civilians, too, who -would not scruple to bring the law on his slayer, -but as ’tis— Why, they’ll but hold him at the -Castle a few days to encourage those of us who -are of like inclination, and then he’ll come abroad -again.” Then something of the warmth of his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>tone abated, and he laughed to himself. “’Tis an -ill wind that blows no one good, eh, Hugh? You -can eat your daily bread in peace now; for the -present Captain Gwyeth cannot vex you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Indeed, now the constant expectation of meeting -with Alan Gwyeth was removed, Hugh found -it far easier to fit himself to the routine of his -new life. At first, to be sure, it cut him every -time he saw Strangwayes buckle on his sword -and clank away to the exercise of his troop, and -he winced at every boasting word Frank let fall -of the great things he meant to do now he was a -full-fledged cornet. But he soon found that even -a gentleman volunteer who had failed of a commission -could be of use, where the fortifications -on the north and southeast were digging; so for -some days he spent hours in the varied assembly -of college men and townsfolk, who labored with -pick and shovel at the trenches. It was inglorious -work for a soldier, and it was hard work that -sent him to quarters with blistered hands and -aching back. Frank joked him a little on turning -ditcher, some of the other men chaffed, and -even Strangwayes raised his eyebrows with the -dry question, “Is it necessary?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If the king cannot use me in one way, I must -serve him in another, since I am eating his bread,” -Hugh replied doggedly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Whereat Strangwayes’ eyes laughed, and he -prayed Hugh, if he thought ’twould make no difference -to the king, to quit the trenches for that -afternoon and come ride with him. “Your aim -is to be a soldier, is it not?” he asked, as they -paced along the western road beyond the High -Bridge.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>“Yes, if I can get me a commission; ’tis all -there is for me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good. I began to doubt if you had not determined -to turn pioneer. Dig in the trenches -somewhat, by all means, and learn what you can -of how men build fortifications and how the -engineers devise them. But you must not for -that neglect your horse and your sword. That -brings it to my mind, Hugh; you should know -something of rapier play as well as the broadsword. -There’s a Frenchman in the city shall -teach it you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh stammered something, with his eyes on -the pommel of his saddle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twill be a favor to me if you will take these -lessons of him,” Strangwayes put in hastily. “I -knew the man in my college days; he owes me -somewhat from them and would gladly return it -thus.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So, early as next morning, Strangwayes marched -Hugh over to a dingy lane that led from the Corn -market, and up a narrow stair to a bare room, -where he presented him to Monsieur de Sévérac, a -fierce small man with mustaches. De Sévérac -stood Hugh up with a rebated sword in his hand, -and thrust at him, talking rapidly in a mixture of -French and English, while Hugh vainly tried to -parry the point that invariably got home upon his -body. He came away bewildered and sore, to -find the dull labor of the trenches, where at least -he knew what was expected of him, a downright -comfort. But little by little, as the lessons went -on, he began to find a method beneath it all, and -to get real pleasure from wielding the long, light -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>rapier, so different from the broadsword to which -he had been used. De Sévérac even admitted -one day that he had a steady hand, and with -practice might make a creditable swordsman.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With a great desire to whistle, Hugh walked -back to dinner, and, two steps at a time, ran up -the stairs at Sir William’s house, a bit before the -hour, he judged, for he found the dining room to -all appearances empty. Then, as he stepped -across the threshold, he caught sight of Von Holzberg, -standing in one of the deep window recesses, -and beside him a man with red hair, who at -his step turned and looked at him. It was Alan -Gwyeth. For a moment he stared steadily at -Hugh, and by his face the boy could not tell -whether his humor were good or ill; then he -bowed to him curtly, as any one of the captains -might have done, and continued his speech with -Von Holzberg. They spoke in German, Hugh -observed, in the instant that he halted mechanically -before he turned on his heel and went out of -the room. He had no desire to whistle now; he -only knew that he was heavy with a great disappointment, -that was none the less overwhelming -for being utterly vague.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But, in the end, he found that matters went the -more smoothly, now the dreaded meeting was over. -It grew in time a mere daily and expected occurrence -to see Captain Gwyeth among the officers, -and to receive from him, in the course of ordinary -civility, sometimes a short bow, once or twice a -curt good morrow. But, though Hugh repeated -to himself it was all he had looked to receive of -the man, there slowly grew in him an unrealized -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>sense of resentment that hitherto had had no -place in him. He ceased to look wistfully toward -Captain Gwyeth, but made it a point to talk -busily with Frank or Dick or others that he -knew when he came in his father’s sight, and to -return the other’s scant bows with equal curtness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Meantime other occupations and interests than -the affairs of the mess room were busying him. -The ground was now too hard for digging, but -the fencing lessons still went on, as Hugh’s bruised -face and aching body often testified. He had also -come once more, at a hint of an invitation from -Turner, to take his place in the ranks and go -through whatever exercises the troop was put to. -Try as he would, though, a little bitterness still -came into his heart at sight of Frank, carrying the -red and gold cornet, so he was happier when, -formal drill over, he could ride away whither he -listed on Bayard.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When rapier and horse both failed of interest, -Hugh had recourse to John Ridydale, whose -quarters in a by-street he had speedily discovered. -With small coaxing he persuaded the corporal to -drill him in handling pistol and carabine, an exercise -which involved the shooting off of an amazing -quantity of his Majesty’s powder and ball at -practice marks in the fields of the west suburbs. -Hugh, after peppering away bravely, came home -in great enthusiasm to Strangwayes, who laughed -a little, and finally remarked one day, “And do -but think, too, how that honest corporal will go -singing your perfections to Captain Gwyeth.” -Whereat Hugh grew thoughtful, and somewhat -curtailed his shooting trips.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>After that, especially as fouler weather closed -in, he exercised much in Turner’s troop stable, -where Frank kept a wooden horse for vaulting, -which he took great profit in seeing Hugh use. -“’Tis such a pleasure to look on animation of a -cold morning,” young Pleydall remarked one day, -as he stood shivering in his cloak. “But do you -get enjoyment of it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh, who sat in his shirt-sleeves swinging his -legs on the back of the horse, merely laughed and -drew his left hand up and down his spare, sinewy -right arm. He had grown a little that winter, -and he was beginning also to learn the power that -was latent in each muscle. Just now he was -thinking to himself that if it ever came again to -rough and tumble hand-grips with Peregrine -Oldesworth, such as they had had in the days -at Everscombe, his cousin would not be quite so -sure of the mastery.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Aside from the fact that he was still an uncommissioned -volunteer, Hugh’s only quarrel with -his busy life that winter was that he saw little of -Dick Strangwayes. His friend’s chamber and -purse were at his disposal, but his time Strangwayes -himself was not master of; not only did his -duties in the troop require him, but he had in the -city and in the colleges many friends to whom he -gave much of himself. Hugh valued the more -the moments he had with his comrade at their -chamber, and, for the rest, sought himself companionship -where he could. Frank, too, had -associates of his own, for whom Hugh had no -great affection, so as a last choice he resorted to -George Allestree, who showed his friendship by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>introducing him to all the taverns and ordinaries -in the city. It was Allestree, too, who, when he -found Hugh took in great seriousness his intention -of becoming a soldier, unearthed a fat book, -“The Soldier’s Grammar and Accidence,” by one -Gervase Markham, and told the boy he would -get from that all the theory of war he wanted. -“I’ll read it speedily and return it to you, George,” -Hugh said gratefully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Prithee, don’t hurry yourself,” Allestree answered -quickly. “Ten years hence is quite soon -enough for my needs.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Indeed, Hugh did not find Gervase Markham -exciting reading, but, to the silent enjoyment of -Strangwayes, he dutifully labored through his -pages. He was hard at work on Markham one -morning, with his chin on one fist and his elbow -on the table. Only his eyes were not on the -book, but ranging out at the casement, for it was -in early February and the sky was blue, and Hugh -was thinking how the buds would be bursting -soon on the beeches in the park at Everscombe.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did you note the Worcestershire parson who -sat at our table last night?” suddenly spoke -Strangwayes, who was shaving at the little mirror -between the windows.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Frank said he was an old tutor whom Sir -William held in much respect,” Hugh answered, -bringing his gaze back to the room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, he was set next Captain Gwyeth, and -I was the other side, so I enjoyed their discourse. -It seems the parson was much attracted by you.” -Strangwayes tipped his head on one side while -he scraped the razor along his cheek, and spoke -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>disjointedly. “Something, either the way you -thrust up that square chin of yours, or your pretty -habit of not speaking to your elders unless they -address you,—except in my case, for you constantly -fail in respect to me,—well, you much -pleased the gentleman, so he asked the captain -your name. And the captain told him. ‘Your -son, sir?’ says he, and falls to congratulating the -captain on your fine bearing and—nay, I’ll spare -you. But I’m thinking Captain Gwyeth did not -relish his supper.” There was an instant’s pause -while Strangwayes, with his head thrown back, -shaved warily beneath his chin; then he laid down -the razor and faced about. “Will you believe it, -Hugh?” he said, in something between jest and -seriousness, “I’m thinking if you should go very -humbly, hat in hand, to the captain and say, ‘Sir, -I bore myself very frowardly and peevishly toward -you, but now I am ready to submit me,’ I’m thinking -he would rate you soundly and—henceforth -maintain you himself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Doubtless he will,—when I go unto him so,” -Hugh said shortly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes laughed a little, then fell to talking -of indifferent matters, while he put on his -coat and fastened his belt. “I saw Phil Bellasis -in the city yesterday,” he ended. “Perhaps to -even matters he’s looking for Captain Gwyeth -now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should think one lesson would suffice for -him,” Hugh replied; and then, as Dick tramped -away, turned his attention again to Gervase -Markham.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But reading or any serious pursuit was out of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>the question on those blue spring days in the -midst of winter. There was near a week of such -weather, in which poor Gervase was left to gather -dust on the chimney-piece, and Monsieur de Sévérac -expostulated at Hugh’s inattention. The boy’s -heart was idling out in the open air, and his body -must needs follow. He galloped Bayard round -about the city till he knew the roads to weariness, -and then, descending upon George Allestree, he -dragged him out to tramp in the slushy remnants -of the last snow.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We’ll even up scores now,” Allestree said one -afternoon. “You’ve haled me through the mire, -which I loathe, and now I’ll make you sup in the -city with me, which I know you abhor.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So it was that in the evening Hugh found himself -blinking sleepily in a brightly lighted room -above a city ordinary, and roused up only at the -click of the dice. At one of the small tables -Allestree and Lieutenant Seymour, who had -joined them, were deep in play, so Hugh got up -and stood watching them. In spite of all urgings -he did not play himself; the forty-five shillings -he brought from Edgehill had lasted him well for -spending money, but he had none to squander on -the dice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He looked up to the door as several newcomers -entered,—civilians, from their lack of -any regimental badge. “Why, is’t not Bellasis -yonder?” Seymour asked, dicebox in hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hm,” grunted Allestree. “Throw.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh glanced curiously at the men, who had -placed themselves at the next table. One that -sat on the farther side—a sallow, long-legged -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>fellow of thirty—he held to be Bellasis; meeting -the man’s eyes, his thoughts went back to the -day of Edgehill, when Bellasis had nearly ridden -down Frank, and he felt sure of the identification. -Then he turned to watch Allestree’s play; -how many throws had passed he did not know, -when, hearing some one speak near by, he listened -carelessly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, you do not know him, then?” a curt, -incisive voice reached him. “Well, ’tis no wonder. -The puppy was whelped in a gutter.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt a hot prickling clear to the back -of his neck; but, although his whole attention -was now riveted to those behind him, he did not -turn.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, groom to a gang of common foot soldiers. -A fellow of the name of Strangwayes -took him thence in charity and employed him -as body servant.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I stake you ten shillings,” said Allestree, -reaching well across the table.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I take it,” answered Seymour.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh leaned a little forward with his clinched -hands resting on the table, and listened, not to -them, but to Philip Bellasis.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pshaw! how would you have it?” the scornful -voice went on. “’Tis bad blood there. Now -Alan Gwyeth—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh swung round on his heel; the candles -dazzled up and down before him, but he could -make out Bellasis, resting his chin on one hand -as he sat, and speaking straight at him: “Alan -Gwyeth, you’ll remember, was but a broken German -cutthroat, who lost his commission here for -cowardice—”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>“Sit down, Hugh!” Allestree cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh could feel Allestree’s grasp tighten on -his arm, but, shaking him off, he walked across -to the table where Bellasis sat. The room was -very still, and in the silence his voice sounded -husky and low. “You spoke of Alan Gwyeth,” -he began slowly. “When you call him a coward, -I tell you you lie in your throat!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he leaned across the table and smote -Bellasis on the mouth.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XIII <br /> <span class='small'>IN THE FIELDS TOWARD OSNEY ABBEY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>It was dark in the passage outside the door, -and Hugh fumbled stupidly to find the latch. -Inside two patches of moonlight, checkered like -the diamond panes of the windows, lay on the -floor. Hugh stood staring at them dully a moment -before he spoke, “Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well?” came from the black corner where -the bed stood; it was Strangwayes’ assertion -that he always slept with one eye and one ear -alert.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh stepped over to the bedside. “I have -met with Philip Bellasis,” he began quickly, as -if he had a lesson he knew must be repeated. -“He slandered my father. I gave him the lie. -We are to fight with rapiers to-morrow at twilight -in the fields toward Osney Abbey.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes was sitting upright in bed now. -“You are to fight Bellasis?” he repeated.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh nodded. “Have you the time to come -out to the field with me, Dick? George offered, -but I’d rather—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did George Allestree suffer you enter on -such a quarrel?” There was a sharp, ringing -quality in Strangwayes’ voice Hugh had seldom -heard.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>“Nay, ’tis no fault of George,” he answered -quickly, and detailed all that had befallen at the -ordinary.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes dropped back on his elbow. -“Hugh, you fool, you babe!” he broke out, -still with that odd quality in his voice. “That -scoundrel trapped you deliberately; he durst not -meet your father again; he tried to trap you, and -you suffered him!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I could do nothing else,” Hugh answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, get to bed now,” Strangwayes said in -his kindest tone. “You must have all the rest -you can before you go to spit our friend -Philip.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lying down obediently, Hugh stared at the -moonlight creeping along the floor, and listened -to the watch that paced the street below. Strangwayes -at his side breathed uneasily and once or -twice turned somewhat; but Hugh lay quiet till -his opened eyes ached and were heavy, and he -slept a sleep full of dreams.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When he came broad awake again there was -chilly daylight in the room, and Strangwayes was -up and half dressed. “What sort of day is it?” -Hugh asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A gray day,” Dick answered cheerily. “’Tis -good for your work. There’ll be no sun to dazzle -either of you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh got up, and in the midst of drawing on -his clothes glanced at Dick’s watch, where he saw -it was past their rising hour. “Is this the way -you pamper a fighter, as if I were one of Butler’s -gamecocks?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You were sleeping well,” Strangwayes answered; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>“’twere pity to wake you. I’ll fetch some -breakfast and we’ll eat together here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You can get food from the shop below; you’ve -no need of your hat and cloak. Where are you -going, Dick?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes hesitated an instant while he -drew his cloak about him, then replied, “I am -going to your father.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You shall not!” Hugh cried, and, crossing to -the door, set his back against it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Assuredly I shall,” Strangwayes answered. -“The matter has gone beyond jest.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He will call me a snivelling coward,” Hugh -pleaded; “he will say I made a mash of it and -then came whimpering to him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let him,” Strangwayes interrupted, “’tis his -quarrel and he should manage it himself. Why -did you ever thrust in?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know not,” Hugh answered. “Only he is my -father. And he is no coward. They lied about -him in that. And he was not there to reply. I -had to come in.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, he can come in now,” Strangwayes retorted, -and strode over to the door.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh thrust up one arm against his friend’s -chest. “You will not tell him?” he begged. “I -know you can put me aside, Dick; you’re the -stronger. But prithee, do not use me thus. He -despises me so already. I’d liefer Bellasis killed -me twice over. You won’t speak a word to him, -Dick?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I won’t speak to him, Hugh,” Strangwayes -answered soothingly. “Come, come, you’re -foolish as a girl. Go get on your coat, and be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>ready to eat a full breakfast.” He put Hugh -aside with one arm about his shoulders, and went -out of the room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When Hugh had finished dressing he opened -the casement and leaned out a little into the raw -morning air; the chilly wind seemed to brush -away something of the heaviness of his unrefreshing -sleep. Down in the street below he saw men -passing by, and a townswoman in a scarlet hood -that showed bright against the muddy road and -dark houses. Across the way he saw Major -Bludsworth come leisurely down the steps from -Sir William’s quarters, and presently he saw a -trooper, lumbering briskly up the stairs, disappear -inside the house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then a kick upon the door made him turn -in time to see Strangwayes, keeping the door -braced open with one foot, come sidewise through -the narrow aperture. In one hand he held two -mugs of ale and in the other a pasty, which Hugh -had the wit to catch before it fell to the floor. -“Ay, treat it reverently,” Dick said, “’tis mutton, -and age has ever commanded reverence. Part of -the ale has gone up my sleeve, but the rest is -warranted of a good headiness.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After he had thrown off his cloak the two set -them down at the table with the pasty and the -ale between them, and drew out their knives. -Strangwayes scored a line across the middle of -the mutton pie. “Now each man falls to,” he -ordered, “and he who works the greatest havoc -on his side gets the mug that is full, while the -other must content him with the scant measure. -Now, then, charge for England and St. George!”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>They were well at work, Hugh eating dutifully -and Dick both eating and setting forth an interminable -tale of a fat citizen’s wife he had accosted -in the bakeshop, when there sounded a quick -stamping on the stairs. “I’ll wager ’tis the popinjay,” -said Strangwayes, pausing with his knife -suspended.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Right on the word Frank Pleydall burst into -the room. “Is it true you’re to fight?” he cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A guess near the truth,” answered Strangwayes. -“Draw up and share with us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve eaten breakfast. They were talking of -the duel there at the table. So you’re to fight -Bellasis, Hugh? Aren’t you afraid?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The full mug of ale suddenly went crashing -and slopping to the floor. “If I were the Creator -and had men to make,” said Strangwayes, down -on his knees among the fragments, “I’d make -men without elbows, at least without such elbows -as mine. Come aid me, you lazy fellow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh obediently began mopping up the spilt -ale, but Strangwayes did not stay to help him. -He was speaking with Frank over by the window, -and Hugh just caught something like, “If you -don’t hold your foolish tongue, I’ll cuff your head -off.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In any case, when Hugh rose to his feet he -found Frank very subdued. “’Twas my father -sent me hither,” he began, with a little trace of -sullenness. “He said if you really had it in mind -to fight, you were best slip out of the town early. -The matter has got abroad, and the provost may -send to apprehend you just for accepting the -challenge.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>“Then we’ll disappoint the provost,” said -Strangwayes. “I’ve sent to the stable already to -have our horses brought round. Clap into your -boots, Hugh, but bring your shoes along. You -can’t fight with a ton of leather about your heels.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is there aught I can lend you, Hugh?” asked -Frank, studying his friend with interested eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m well enough,” Hugh answered cheerfully. -“Dick is going to let me use his rapier.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can’t I come out to the field with you?” -Frank begged. “Oh, I’ll not speak a word, Dick, -and I’ll do whatever you may tell me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If a second man came it would have to be -Allestree,” answered Strangwayes. “Better go -back to quarters now, Frank. Tell Sir William -we thank him for his warning, and I have taken a -day’s leave of absence.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But as Strangwayes was edging him toward -the door Frank dodged by him and ran back to -Hugh. “Good luck to you,” he said, putting his -arms round Hugh and kissing him. “And—and -God keep you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he clattered out and down the stairs, and -Hugh, for a moment, neither looked at Dick nor -spoke.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was drawing on his cloak, still with his back -toward Strangwayes, who stood by the window, -when his friend struck in gayly: “In good time, -here are the horses. Come along, now.” Thus -Hugh was hurried out at the door, with time only -for a single backward glance at the little crowded -chamber, and barely an instant in which to ask -himself, would he ever look upon that room -again?</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>At the foot of the first flight of stairs they met -Turner, recognizable by his slim figure, though -the corridor was too dark for them to distinguish -his face. “Going out to the field, eh, Gwyeth?” -he asked, thrusting out his hand. “Well, success -to you, lad, good success.” He shook hands a -second time with a strong pressure that lingered -on Hugh’s fingers till after they were mounted -and off.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Under foot the mud and slush were heavy, but -the horses kept up a tolerable pace, which Hugh, -unknown to himself, was setting for them. A -feverish desire to be moving quickly was upon him, -and with it a dread of being silent. He laughed -and chatted indifferently of whatever caught his -eye upon the western road till he soon had Strangwayes -talking back glibly. “We’ll dine at an alehouse -called the ‘Sceptre,’” Dick rattled on. -“I know it well of old. I used to have a score as -long as my arm chalked on the door. There’s a -very pretty bowling green behind the house. -Which explains my long score. When the spring -comes I must have you out thither and teach you -to bowl. ’Tis good for the muscles of the arm, let -alone the exhilaration of the spirits.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was mid-morning when they drew rein before -the much belauded alehouse, a low gray building, -in a field somewhat apart from the surrounding -cottages, with tall poplars in a row on either side -that made it seem the more remote. The short-breathed -host and his staid, gray-headed drawer -had had acquaintance with Strangwayes as late -as that winter, to judge by the warmth of their -greeting. They had the horses to the stable at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>once, and the gentlemen to the big front chamber -of the upper story, where a good fire was started, -a cloth laid, and all made comfortable. “We’ll -not dine till one o’clock,” Strangwayes ordered. -“If you hear scuffling before then be not dismayed; -we may try some sword practice. You -understand, eh, Martin?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The sober drawer showed sparks of interest. -“Be you to fight, Master Strangwayes?” he -asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This gentleman is, this afternoon. Now keep -a quiet tongue, Martin, as you always do.” He -slipped a piece of money into the drawer’s hand, -and the man departed slowly, with his gaze on -Hugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now make yourself at ease,” Strangwayes -bade. “Or will you try a little rapier practice to -limber your muscles?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh was ready enough, so Strangwayes procured -from the host a pair of blunted rapiers with -which they fell to fencing. Hugh watched Dick’s -sword-hand and did his best, but again and again -the point slipped past his blade; there seemed no -suppleness in his wrist nor spring in his body, and -when he tried desperately to retort faster he laid -himself open to his adversary. In the end, as he -attempted a vigorous thrust in quarte, his foot -slipped so he only saved himself by catching at -the table. As he recovered himself he looked at -Dick, and saw his face was of an appalling -soberness. “You’ve a steady enough hand, Hugh,” -he began hastily. “Only you must quicken your -thrusts somewhat. No, don’t try any more; you’ll -only spend yourself needlessly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>Hugh handed back his weapon, and made a -great work of putting on his coat again. But -presently it would out. “My father is considerable -of a swordsman, is he not?” he -began.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He has that reputation,” Strangwayes answered -dryly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yet he did not contrive more than to wound -Bellasis.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I doubt if he put his whole skill into the business,” -Strangwayes said quickly. “Come, Hugh, -try a hand at primero with me,—unless you fear -I worst you there.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He drew the cards from his pocket, and they -sat down to the table by the fire. How many -games they played Hugh did not heed; he dealt -recklessly and talked and laughed his loudest; -sometimes he won of Strangwayes, sometimes he -lost, but it all mattered nothing. He was in the -thick of a boisterous exposition of the merits of -the hand he held, when some one knocked at the -door. “Come!” Strangwayes cried eagerly, and -sprang to his feet.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The door was pushed open, and Ridydale, -spattered to the thighs, walked in. “A letter -for you, sir, from Colonel Gwyeth,” he said, crossing -to Hugh. “The colonel lay from his quarters -yesternight, and came not back till late this -morning.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>This last was spoken more to Strangwayes -than to Hugh, but the boy did not heed. He -was tearing open the letter with fingers that -shook with impatience. It was very brief, he -saw at first glance; then he read:—</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span></div> -<div class='letter'> - -<p class='c000'><span class='sc'>Worthy Sir</span>:</p> -<p class='c007'>For something like forty years I have contrived unaided to -keep my honor and my reputation clear. By the grace of -Heaven I hope to do so for forty years longer, still without a -boy’s assistance. Quit at once this absurd quarrel you have -entered on. Take yourself back to your quarters. I shall myself -deal with Master Bellasis.</p> -<div class='c013'>Your obedient servant,</div> -<div class='c014'><span class='sc'>Alan Gwyeth</span>.</div> - -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh read the paper over once more, slowly, -then passed it to Dick. “That is what he writes -me,” he said without passion, and getting up went -to fetch a standish and paper from an open cupboard -in one corner of the room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He placed them on the table as Strangwayes -looked up from finishing the letter. He, too, said -nothing, but his mouth was set in a hard line -under his mustache. “I’ll write an answer,” -Hugh said quietly, as he seated himself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will you not ride back to the city with me, -sir?” Ridydale put in eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh was silent a moment while he adjusted -his paper and pen, then replied: “I am not coming -to the city with you. Moreover, Corporal -Ridydale, if you ever again mention unto me one -word of Captain Gwyeth, I’ll have no more dealings -with you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he turned resolutely to his task and -wrote his answer, slowly, for he was an unhandy -penman, and he wished the letter to be quite -dignified in neatness.</p> - -<div class='letter'> - -<p class='c000'><span class='sc'>Worthy Sir</span>:</p> -<p class='c007'>When we parted at Shrewsbury perhaps you may remember -I said to you that you had no right to lay a command upon -me. Since that time you have done naught to get you the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>right; by your will I am no son of yours. Yet so long as I -bear the name of Gwyeth it is my part to defend that name -from any slander. Therefore I did enter on a quarrel with -the one who defamed my family. The quarrel is now mine -and I shall pursue it to the end. Though I have been flogged -by your troopers, I have some notion of what becomes a gentleman -of honor. Such a gentleman as my mother would wish -me to be does not suffer another to undertake his defence.</p> - -<div class='c013'>Your obedient servant,</div> -<div class='c014'><span class='sc'>Hugh Gwyeth</span>.</div> - -</div> - -<p class='c007'>He chose his words deliberately; it was amazing -how ready they were to his hand, now that he -had come to the realization that Alan Gwyeth -had used him with brutal unjustness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He folded the paper carefully. “Here, take -it, Ridydale,” he ordered. “But remember, I’ve -no quarrel with you, Corporal. You have been a -good friend to me, and I’d still keep you so. -Only never another mention of Captain Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ridydale hesitated a moment with the letter in -his hand before he broke out: “Tell you what, -Master Hugh, I’ll send this by another messenger. -I’m going to rest here till the fight’s -over. You may want me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s well,” Strangwayes said promptly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After Ridydale had left them, Dick ordered up -dinner, and they tried to talk over it as before. -Strangwayes made out fairly, but a numb silence -was on Hugh; in the bracing anger of a few -moments before his resolution seemed all to have -vanished and left him spiritless. He could not -help looking to the window to see what time -of day it was, and involuntarily he interrupted -Strangwayes with a question as to how soon they -should start for the field. “Not for a couple of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>hours,” the other replied. “’Tis a bit of a walk; -we’ll take supper here afterward—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With a sudden gesture Hugh pushed by his -plate and swung about with his head hidden -against the back of his chair. For of a sudden -there came sweeping upon him overpoweringly -the realization he had been battling off all the -morning: this was the last meal he might ever -eat.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He got to his feet unsteadily and walked to the -door; the scrape of a chair told him Strangwayes -had risen. “Don’t!” Hugh cried. “I want to -be alone.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Somehow he felt his way down a flight of -backstairs, and pushing open a side door stumbled -out into the air. There was a level stretch -of pashy bowling green down which he splashed -his way. But press forward as he would, he -knew he could not run from what he had bound -himself to, so, where the green ended at the hedge, -he flung himself down on a wet bench and sat -with his head in his hands. In one of the bare -poplars a snow bird was chirruping; over toward -the stable he could hear a man calling and a -horse stamp. He dropped his head on his knees -and stared dumbly at the trodden mud between -his feet. For he knew now there was nothing to -help him, even Dick’s friendship and affection -were of no avail; there was only himself to rely -on. Once he thought of God, but the God the -Oldesworths had taught him was distant and -very stern; He would never take pity on a duellist, -even if he cried to Him. So Hugh, with his -head bowed down, wrestled through the struggle -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>alone, and little by little forced himself to accept -with a soldier’s resignation the fate that should -take from him the joy of battle, and of friendship, -and of life that summed up all joys.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When he rose his face was quite steady, though -he made no pretence to the cheerfulness he had -kept up that morning. Walking briskly back to -the house, he made his way to their chamber, -where he found Strangwayes pacing up and -down. Hugh went to him and put a hand on -his shoulder. “Let’s not try to pretend about -it any more, Dick,” he said simply. “Bellasis has -handled a rapier for years where I’ve used it but -weeks. There is no hope for me. Frankly, is -there? On your honor, Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There is this hope,” Strangwayes answered, -after an instant. “It may be he will content -himself with disabling you, and then—he will -force you to crave his pardon.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The other way suits me better,” Hugh said -quietly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You can only do your best,” Strangwayes replied. -“He may be careless. Be ready to use -every opportunity.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I will,” Hugh nodded, and then, sitting down -by the fire, he beckoned his friend to sit beside -him. “I take it, time’s short,” he began, “so I -want to tell you, Dick, you’re to take Bayard and -keep him, and be very kind to him, only I know -you’ll be that.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes reached out his arm; the two -griped hands, and sat so.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Give my sword to Frank,” Hugh went on, -“and give Ned Griffith back his red sash. Ridydale -<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>can have my spurs. Then there’s six shillings -I’ve here; I want a trooper named Robert -Saxon in Gwyeth’s company to have them; he’ll -be sorry and drunk at once. Give my duty to -Captain Turner and Sir William, and commend -me to George Allestree.” He paused a moment, -then resumed: “There’s a girl at Everscombe -Manor, Lois Campion; we were playfellows then. -She has not writ me since, but I’d like her to -know that I held her in remembrance. I’d fain -send my duty to my Grandfather Oldesworth, too, -but I doubt if he’d accept of it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll do all as you bid,” Strangwayes answered. -“God! if I could but fight that coward for you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that outburst they sat side by side without -speaking, while the quick moments slipped -by, till at last Strangwayes rose unwillingly to his -feet. “We must start now,” he said, so Hugh -put on his cloak, and arm in arm they went out -from the house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At the door Ridydale saluted them, then fell -into step behind them, and in such order they -splashed down the bowling green. Through a -gap in the hedge they entered a field where some -patches of snow still lingered in the hollows. -Beyond they passed through a copse of naked -trees, and so across a dry ditch entered a level -piece of open ground. At the farther end two -men stood waiting. “Faith, I had judged you -meant to shirk your hour,” cried the taller of the -two in a sharp, high voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Close of twilight is a rather loose appointment, -Master Bellasis,” Strangwayes answered -curtly.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“And you fetched a third man, did you? Two -to one—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Maybe you would wish the city guard to come -upon you with blades in your hands?” Strangwayes -interrupted. “I have brought a sure man -to watch the road. But if you object—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, by no means,” laughed Bellasis. “And -’tis well you brought him. ’Twill need two of -you to convey your gentleman from the field.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In any case I shall have legs left to walk back -to the field and find you,” Strangwayes retorted, -with his nostrils drawn thin. “Strip off your -coat, Hugh. Take your place beyond the bushes -there, Ridydale.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh was glad that Dick unfastened his coat -for him; for a sick instant the control he had -acquired of himself seemed slipping away. But -it was only an instant, and then, grasping his -rapier firmly, he had stood up stiffly in the place -they bade him stand. In the distance, against -the darkening twilight, he could see the bare -trees and the towers of Osney Abbey; then his -eyes descended to Bellasis’ keen sallow face, and -then they dropped to the man’s bony sword-hand, -and he saw nothing else.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Some one said, “Now!” and the rapiers crossed, -how, he scarcely knew. He heard the quick click -of the blades, and with it came a sudden flash of -pain in his right thigh; he thrust desperately at -Bellasis’ shoulder, but his point went wide.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That shall quit the blow you struck me,” his -adversary spoke, softly, as the blades clicked again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh shifted his body, stiffly, for his right leg -felt strangely numb, yet with his utmost skill he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>contrived to put by two thrusts; all his attention -was riveted to the blades, but some inner consciousness -was telling him that Bellasis was only -feinting carelessly, and had not yet shown his -strength. His very despair drove him forward in -a useless thrust, and at that the other’s rapier -seemed in his eyes, and he felt something warm -on his left cheek.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And there’s for your father’s blow,” said -Bellasis, in a low voice. “Get your breath now -for the last bout.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was thrust and parry for what seemed -endless hours; click of blade, desperate effort -that set Hugh, mad with his helplessness, panting -to the point of sobbing. Then, of a sudden, -as he made an instinctive swerve to the right, -there came a rasping sound of tearing cloth, a -deathly agony swept through his body. But he -saw Bellasis leaning toward him with body all -exposed, and, springing forward, with all the -strength in him he thrust home the rapier.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The hilt of the rapier slipped from his hand. -Bellasis’ shirt and face showed white on the -muddy ground at his feet. All the rest was -blackness and pain. A second thrill pierced -through his side. Some one’s arm was about him, -and Dick’s voice cried, “Hugh, Hugh!” with an -agony in it he marvelled at. He could feel -Strangwayes’ fingers tearing open his shirt, a -cloth pressing in upon his side. “Ha’ done!” he -gasped out, clutching Dick round the neck.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Right upon that, somewhere very far distant, -he heard Ridydale’s voice: “Off with you! The -guard’s upon us!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XIV <br /> <span class='small'>UNDER THE KING’S DISPLEASURE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>A racking agony of being borne joltingly -along Hugh remembered dimly, but now there -came a moment of fuller consciousness. He -knew it was black all about where he lay, the -ground beneath him felt wet, and his face was -jammed into something so cold it made his cheek -ache. With a helpless catching of the breath he -tried to shift his position. “Hush, hush!” Strangwayes’ -voice sounded right at his ear, and Strangwayes’ -arm pressed him close.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Smothering the cry of pain, Hugh listened -breathlessly; somewhere far above him people -must be moving, for he heard the snap of boughs -and men’s voices calling, “Have you found a -trace?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, they bore to the roadway, I’ll wager.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have ye searched the ditch?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>On that, nearer and louder than before, came -more trampling and crashing. Hugh could not -hear Strangwayes breathe, but he felt Strangwayes’ -arm draw more tensely about him, and, when he -turned his head painfully, knew it was Strangwayes’ -hand pressed down on his mouth. Now -as he lay he could see a shred of dark sky with -the outline of branches thick woven against it. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>Then the sight of the sky went blurring out from -before his eyes, and the crackling of the bushes -grew fainter till that and all other sound ceased -for him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A sense that he had been long in a region of -blankness, then once more he heard voices, but -now they were beside him and he knew who -spoke. “Durst you venture forth, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I dare not risk it, Corporal. Yet if we stay -in this slough— You’re holding him as clear of -the wet as you can?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What else should I be doing, sir?” Ridydale’s -voice came snappishly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You are here, Dick?” Hugh tried to say, but -it took an instant to force out even a weak -whisper.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A quick movement and Strangwayes bent over -him; Hugh concluded vaguely that he was resting -across the knees of his two friends with his -head upon Dick’s arm. “How is it with you -now, lad?” Strangwayes asked eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well enough. Only my face aches,” Hugh -admitted in a whisper that pained him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I could have forgiven him, had he killed the -lad clean and quick,” Strangwayes broke out; -“but to hack him into pieces thus!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hell gnaw him for it!” Ridydale growled -back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With neither wit nor strength to reason out of -what or whom they spoke, Hugh lay quiet and -unresisting in the arms of his companions. He -wondered if their coats were wrapped about him, -he felt so warm. Then, after a space where even -wonder was blotted out, he felt his shirt thrust -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>open again and the air cold on his breast. “Give -me those other napkins,” Strangwayes’ voice -sounded hard and colorless; “he is bleeding -again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Something like a groan burst from Ridydale. -“May we not venture it now, sir?” he begged.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In God’s name, yes!” Strangwayes cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt himself lifted up, and with the movement -came a throbbing pain through all his body, -and then a deathly faintness, that left him -no strength to cry out. Through it all he -caught a glimpse of a blackness above him that -must be the night sky, and then it was all a blackness, -where he could not even feel Dick’s touch.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For one instant of agony the light returned to -him. It seemed they must have torn open all -his wounds, and they would not spare him, even -when at last he cried for mercy. Strangwayes’ -face came out of the blur of light, and Strangwayes -griped hold of his hand, but gave him no -other comfort. Then the light went out, and for -a space Hugh had only ugly dreams.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was of a morning that he opened his eyes -again upon a sane and remembered world. -Somewhere near crackled a fire, the light of -which dazzled him so he blinked and closed his -eyes once more. Gradually he became aware -that he was warm, and lay on something soft. -He felt no pain at all now, and he could not understand -why they had so fettered his body with -bandages. Presently he summoned energy to -open his eyes a second time, and, with long intervals -of dozing, lay staring about him: a small, -bare room he did not recollect to have seen before; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>one high, narrow window, with a naked -branch that seemed to cleave it from corner to -corner; a dancing fire that for a long time fascinated -him. After that he studied the blue coverlet -that was flung over him, and then, dragging -out one arm, rested it upon the coverlet, and marvelled -that his wrist was grown so slender.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then from somewhere Strangwayes came and -stood over him, just the same as he had ever -been, only now the lower part of his face was -black with a half-grown beard. “Do you know -me, Hugh?” he asked, and for once there was -no laughter in his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, of course I know you,” Hugh replied, -vexed at the folly of such a question.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Drawing up a stool, Strangwayes sat down -beside him, but Hugh hardly noted him for still -gazing at that limp arm that did not seem to belong -to him. But presently he found that he could -move it, if he took his time, so with infinite pains -he dragged his hand up to his face, and felt a -great welt of plaster upon one cheek. “What’s -to do?” he asked faintly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A beauty mark you may keep with you,” -Strangwayes said, with an effort at his old gay -tone, though his eyes were blinking fast.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh rested a time, then, with much patience, -lifted his hand to his head, and gave a gasp of -consternation as he drew his uncertain fingers -across a stiff, prickly surface. “What have you -done to me now?” he cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Clipped you close. Do you think a fellow -that gets him a fever can be let play Cavalier?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You cut my hair?” Hugh repeated. “And it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>was growing bravely. He’d a had no need to -call me Roundhead any more. I would not have -used you so.” He slipped his hand down over -his eyes, and burst into a pitiful sort of whimpering, -he knew not why.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Be silent now!” Strangwayes cried, with a -sharpness that made Hugh quiet with pure -amazement that his friend could use such a tone -to him. But after that Strangwayes put his pillow -into shape, and, covering him up, bade him sleep, -with all his old kindness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After sleeping long and comfortably Hugh -awoke to see a candle flickering on the table, -and the small window carefully hidden over with -a curtain. “Are you here, Dick?” he asked, -and Strangwayes, rising from before the fire, -came to the side of his pallet. “Awake again, -Hugh? Come, don’t you think you could eat a -bit?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>"I know not," Hugh spoke with long pauses. -“Why, perhaps I am hungry. I thought something -was amiss.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes laughed, for no visible reason, -and, presently fetching him broth, fed him with -slow spoonfuls. The food put enough life into -Hugh for him to ask at length, “Where are -we?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In a back chamber of the alehouse of the -‘Sceptre.’ There, question no farther. Your -duty now is but to eat and sleep.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For many hours Hugh obeyed that command -unquestioningly, and pained himself only to take -the merest outer observation of what went on -about him. A small pompous man in black, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>who dressed his wounds and left ill-tasting drugs -came twice to the room; the drawer, Martin, -came often with food; and Strangwayes was -there always, right at his bedside, whenever he -chose to call upon him. For the rest, there was -the crackling fire to watch, and the window. -Once when he looked to it of a morning he -saw it thick with white frost, and Strangwayes, -coming to the pallet, flung a cloak over him -as he lay. Hugh watched him an instant, then -broke out irrelevantly, “Dick, have I been very -ill?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just a bit,” Strangwayes replied, in his dryest -tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“From the duel, was it not?” Hugh pursued; -then suddenly: “Tell me, how did it fare with -Bellasis? Has he recovered before me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He is recovered,” Strangwayes answered, and -hastened away to mend the fire.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But four and twenty hours later Hugh attacked -his friend with a new query: “Why does not -Frank or George come to visit me now? I think -I be strong enough.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Wait a time longer,” Strangwayes urged; so -Hugh waited and pondered much. For his head -did not ache now whenever he tried to think, so -he went over all he remembered of the last days, -and concluded on this and that till he was ready -to ask farther questions.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The late cold that made the window white had -somewhat abated, when for the first time Strangwayes -propped Hugh up in bed with two cushions -behind him and a cloak about his shoulders. -“I want to ask you something,” Hugh began -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>then, soberly, “I am quite strong, you see. Now -tell me, Dick, did I not hurt Bellasis?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” Strangwayes answered, setting his face -grimly to the front.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sorely?” Hugh urged. “Tell me, Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You must lie down again,” Strangwayes ordered; -but as he was stretched on his back Hugh -caught his friend’s sleeve. “You must tell me,” -he repeated. “Dick, I did not—kill him?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In spite of all he could do Strangwayes’ face -made reply, and Hugh, after one look, turned -himself to the wall.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently Strangwayes’ arm was slipped under -his neck. “You must not grieve for that man,” -he spoke anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that Hugh turned and put his arm round -Dick as he knelt by the pallet. “I was not grieving,” -he said simply, “only I was sorry that after -all I could not be sorry for him.” Then, after -a moment: “Tell me all about it. Yes, now, I -pray you, Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes looked at him, then settled himself -a little more comfortably on the floor by the -pallet. “You remember the fight?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh nodded. “But I cannot understand -how I had the better of it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He gave it you,” Strangwayes answered. “He -scorned you so he destroyed himself. He fenced -as if ’twere mere play, and his last thrust was not -clean. It took you beneath the small ribs, not a -mortal thrust, and there his rapier stayed hampered. -And while his body was undefended, as -he strove to wrench his blade free, you ran him -through the bowels. They carried him off the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>field, I hear, but he was bleeding inside, and they -could do nothing for him. So ’twas well we came -out from the hands of the guard, for Lord Bellasis -was mad with anger, and he has great friends -and influence with the king, so by next day the -ways were laid and they were seeking us to -answer for his death.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you saved me from them,” Hugh said -under his breath, while he tried to hug Dick with -one arm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Faith, ’twas saving myself at the same time, -and I near killed you in the effort. Jack Ridydale -and I caught you up on the alarm and -plunged into the ditch at the edge of the field—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I remember,” Hugh interrupted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So do I,” Strangwayes said, and tried to force -a laugh. “Sure, ’twas wet there. By the favor of -fortune the watch passed over us, and we fetched -you to the ‘Sceptre’ and had in a close-mouthed -physician. And I was bravely frightened, Hugh, -for there was no moving you hence, and here we -lay in the jaws of the enemy. No, no, you’re in -no danger now. For so soon as we were safe in -the alehouse good old Ridydale made for the -stable, and the watch had not yet searched here, -so the horses were untouched. He got him on -his own steed, took your Bayard and my Black -Boy by the bridles, and rode for the west as fast -as spur could drive. Toward dawn he faced -about and trotted home again, the horses all belathered -and crestfallen, and, jogging along the -road in such trim, he was seized upon by the zealous -patrol and haled into the city to answer as to -our whereabouts.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>“They did not harm him?” Hugh asked anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Harm him? Nay, the old scoundrel was more -than their match. He swore we had posted all -night, made a change of horses, and headed into -the enemy’s country to take ship out of the -realm. They coaxed him and they bullied him -for three days, but the rascal lied with such liberality -and discretion that in the end they must -release him. So the matter stands, for some do -truly believe we have got beyond seas, and my -Lord Bellasis has still a hope that we be somewhere -in the country round about here. And -the most of the people, Hugh, have clean forgot -about us by this.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“None know where we are? That is why -none of the others have come hither?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; ’tis that I wanted few to come drawing -suspicions to us. Sir William knows, and he was -pleased to approve your conduct, Hugh, and sent -us supply of money by the trusty old drawer -here. Ridydale durst venture to us only once, -for fear of being tracked. ’Twas when he was -new released and he had had no word how it was -faring with you. So he came and he brought -news of Captain Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh made no reply.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you have the strength to hear it, I’d fain -ease me of it,” Strangwayes went on. “This -is what he had done, Hugh: When he got my -word that man had forced a fight upon you because -you were your father’s son, and when I -prayed him to meet the hacking cutthroat—Heaven -forgive me! Bellasis is dead now. Well, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>you know the answer Captain Gwyeth sent you. -Having shown his proud temper in that, he set -out, not to join us and intercept the man upon -the field, but to seek him in the city. Now -Bellasis, like a wise man, had withdrawn himself -on a suspicion of that, so Alan Gwyeth did but -meet Bellasis’ cousin, Herbert, who drew him into -a scuffle under the very shadow of the Castle. -They were promptly put under arrest therefor. -Then the captain found the hour of the duel -coming on, and he laid by the heels for his folly, -and then—” Strangwayes paused, and tried to -laugh himself into a less earnest tone. “Well, -Hugh, he prayed to see the officer of the watch, -and conveyed unto him full information of the -place and time of the duel.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then ’tis he that is to thank for bringing the -watch upon us?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, and for making us hale you into the -ditch and near rack your poor body to pieces. I -swear the rough handling we had to give you had -as much share in bringing on the fever as your -wounds. And as you lay in the very heat of the -fever came this fine proud message from him that -his will was to come unto you. And I wrote back -unto him so he has not come. But if you wish -him, Hugh, I’ll—well, doubtless I can crave his -pardon, and then he will come to you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do not wish to see him,” Hugh answered -coldly. “What did you write him, Dick?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twas not just a temperate letter, I’m fearing. -For your fever had run four days, and there seemed -no change save the worst change. Oh, well,” -Strangwayes laughed, “I wrote him that his cursed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>ugly pride had never brought anything to you -but disgrace and pain, and now he had killed you -he should leave you to me. I told him his blundering -stupidity in sending the watch would have -wrecked your honor, had they come ten minutes -earlier, and now it had wrecked your life. And I -told him he had been no father to you while you -lived, and he should not play that part in your -death. I said if he came hither I would bar the -door in his face. Truth, I must have been near -mad to write so uncivilly, but—I had been watching -with you three nights, and I was worried for -you, lad. So he did not come. And you do not -wish him to?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, never,” Hugh said, then lay silent so -long that Strangwayes, slipping his arm from -beneath his head, had risen, when Hugh broke -out, “Dick, you must have sent him a message -the day of the duel.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hm,” said Strangwayes, heading for the fireplace.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You promised me—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Only not to speak to him,” the other put in -hastily. “I did not. I wrote him a letter there -in the bakeshop, and sent it by a stray trooper. -Dear lad, I was trained for a lawyer. How could -I resist a quibble? You’re going to forgive me, -Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis a very little fault in you, Dick,” Hugh -answered. “Though if another had done it—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, I’ll never attempt to incline Captain -Gwyeth to his duty again, rest assured,” Strangwayes -ended their talk earnestly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So, while he still had barely strength to lift -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>his head from off the pillow, Hugh came to full -knowledge of how his affairs stood. He was -glad to be told the worst, not be played with -like a child, yet the realization of the desperate -state to which the word and the blow at the -Oxford ordinary had reduced, not only his own -fortunes, but those of his friend, made his slow -convalescence doubly hard to bear. Day followed -day, all alike, save that on some the fire was -heaped high for warmth, while on others, more -frequently as time passed, the narrow window -was flung wide open, and a breath of spring-like -air sweeping in made confinement all the less -endurable. Then Hugh fretted miserably, till he -looked at Dick, and thought what it must mean -to a man to be pent up in a sick room while he -had all his limbs and strength at his command. -For Strangwayes never left him, save for a half-hour -or so at night, when he used to slip out by -the back way and tramp about the bowling green, -to bring in with him so fine a breeziness that -Hugh used to lie awake for his coming. At first -Strangwayes did not quit the chamber even for his -rest, but, wrapping his cloak about him, stretched -himself across the hearth, till Hugh, with gaining -strength, assured him he could fare well enough -without constant watching, and begged him to -get a room and a bed. After that Hugh passed -long, sleepless hours of the night in loneliness, -while through the little window he watched the -varying shades of the sky and the stars that had -so many times looked back at him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>During the day the chief diversions were to -eat, and to note how many minutes more he contrived -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>to sit up than on the preceding day. In -the intervals he and Dick played cards, till the -pack was wofully thumbed, or chess, which Hugh -found easier, for he need only lie on his back and -look sidewise at the board. Later Dick unearthed -the whole library of the “Sceptre,” a fat “Palmerin -of England,” whose “gallant history” he patiently -read aloud to Hugh, who did not find the story -enlivening, but got to appreciate Dick’s sarcastic -comments. Still better he liked to hear his friend -talk, half nonsense, half truth, of the things he -had seen and done when he served in the Low -Countries and made his stay in Paris. “How -should you like to go thither yourself?” Strangwayes -asked abruptly one March morning, when -for the second time Hugh was sitting up in a chair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“With you?” the boy asked quickly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, not with me now,” Strangwayes answered; -“I cannot quit the kingdom, Hugh, while there’s -a blow to be struck. Even though I be a volunteer—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dick!” Hugh cried, “you’ve lost your commission -through me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, no, no,” Strangwayes said hastily. “Only -’twould be awkward to come to the front and -claim it while this duel is still remembered. Sir -William will always keep me a place in his regiment. -And when you are cured, ’tis my purpose -to go into the North to fight. I’ll not be easily -recognized now my beard is grown, and I’ll put -another name to me. There in the North I may -chance to do something that will bring us a pardon -for what we had a share in.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>All of which Hugh only half heeded as he sat -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>with his head in his hands. For it was worse -than the realization that he had killed a man to -know that he had wrought Dick’s fortunes such -a terrible shock.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes said what he could that was generous, -and ended with the old proposition to send -Hugh, so soon as he was recovered, into the Low -Countries, where he would be safe from all pursuit. -But Hugh shook his head. “I cannot, -Dick; I’d rather be hanged here on English -ground, or whatever else they would do to me. -Why, I could not speak their queer language -yonder. And you’ve pampered me so, I durst -not venture out among strangers again. I’ll do -as you do, change my name, and volunteer somewhere -else.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was at this time he made a resolution, which -he had a chance to carry out perhaps a week -later, when Ridydale paid him a cautious visit. -Sir William’s regiment marched northward in -two days, the corporal explained, bound to garrison -Tamworth, and he had thought it well to -come see Master Hugh ere he went, and bring -him his accoutrements from his quarters at -Oxford. Hugh watched his chance till Dick had -left them alone, then prayed Ridydale get Bayard -from Turner’s stable and sell him. “I have been -a heavy charge unto my friends, and am like to -be heavier,” he explained painfully. “And in any -case I cannot keep the horse, for he is known as -mine, and might draw suspicion to me. He’s a -good beast and should fetch a fair price. Only -try your best, Corporal, to sell him unto some one -will use him kindly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>Ridydale demurred, then yielded; and before -he left Oxford, brought Hugh five sovereigns, the -purchase money. Then there was an explanation -with Strangwayes, who was downright angry, but -finally laughed at himself. “Only a fool would -quarrel with such a remnant of a fellow as you -look now,” he concluded.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt the term was justified the first time -he dragged on his clothes, which seemed cut for -a lad of vastly greater brawn, and, contriving to -hobble into the adjoining chamber, got sight of -himself in the glass. Eyes, mouth, and a raw -scar sheer across his left cheek, seemed all that -was left of his face, and his close-cut hair added -to the unfamiliarity of his look. “Scars are good -adornments for a soldier,” he said bravely, but he -tried in vain to find a complimentary phrase for -the painful stiffness that lingered in his thigh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>By dint of stumbling about his chamber, however, -the lameness wore off, till he could walk -with some surety of not falling against the furniture; -and then there came a night he never -forgot, when Strangwayes helped him carefully -down the stairs, and, pacing slowly across the -bowling green, they sat down on a bench that -Hugh remembered. It was a clear spring evening, -with the stars numerous and bright, and an -earthy smell in the soft air. Hugh felt the ground -beneath his feet once more, and stared at the -poplars that still looked bare in the nighttime, -while his heart grew full at the thought that he -was alive to enjoy the spring and all the deeds -that were yet to do. He spoke it all out, as he -leaned against Strangwayes, by saying: “I am -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>well again now, Dick. When shall we be off to -the North?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“North? Not for you at present, lad,” Strangwayes -replied. “You’re no figure for a camp yet. -So I am going to carry you to a farm called -Ashcroft, somewhat toward Warwickshire, where -dwells a distant kinswoman of Sir William Pleydall -and of my mother. ’Tis a good, bluff widow, -whom I shall bid keep you well hidden, and see -you go to bed betimes, and do not run off to kill -Roundheads till I give the word. When you have -back your strength again, you shall join me in -Yorkshire, and we’ll go a-soldiering together -again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For the next week Hugh felt he had something -to look forward to, though expectation made the -days even more tedious. With long intervals of -rest, he furbished up his sword and spurs, and, -when that interest failed, spent much time in devising -a name to assume till his peace was made -with his Majesty. Strangwayes had announced -early that he meant to go by the name of Henry -Ramsden, and there was an end of it; but Hugh -had an unaccountable feeling that he did not wish -to take any one of the common names that men -he knew had borne, and bestow it on a hunted -duellist. He finally ended by calling himself -Edmund Burley, but it was a long process of -selection, and the choice was made only on the -day he left the “Sceptre.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They made their start about midnight, when -the road was quiet, and the houses in the fields -beyond the alehouse were all black. Two horses -were fetched them at the side door, the drawer held -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>a lantern half screened with his hand as they -mounted, and the host wished them God-speed in -a guarded, low voice. Then they paced softly -into the highway and headed northward under -the starlight. At first Hugh sat straight, and -would gladly have talked with Dick to tell him -how easy, after all, he found the exercise. But -Dick would have no speaking till almost cock-crow, -when they were riding through a stretch -of lonely fields, and by then no jauntiness was -left in Hugh, only dull pain and faintness, so he -had no will to say anything except, “Thank -Heaven!” when Strangwayes, fairly lifting him -off his horse, half carried him into a dwelling-place.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There he spent the day, sleeping some and for -the rest lying still as he was bidden, till twilight -came on and once more they got to saddle. A -little fine rain was sifting down now, and the cold -wet on his face refreshed Hugh somewhat, but -even then, when they halted at last at the gate -of a lonely farm enclosure, he was drooping over -his saddle-bow. He noted of the house only that -there was a green settle in the living room, the -arm of which was of just the right height to rest -his head upon, and the loud-voiced woman who -had roused up to greet them held a guttering -candle so he was assured the dripping wax must -soon burn her fingers.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that he remembered Dick helped him -to bed in a little upper chamber; the sheets felt -good, and he shut his eyes to keep out the troublesome -candlelight. “Rain or no, I’m going -to push on for Sir William’s house in Worcestershire,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>Dick was saying. “You’re safe here with -Widow Flemyng, Hugh. And ere long I’ll have -you with me again. God keep you till then, old -lad!” He bent down and kissed Hugh, who -hugged him with a sudden childish feeling that -he could not let Dick go.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So he turned over with his face in the pillow, -broad awake now, and he heard Dick’s boots -creaking down the stairway. He lay listening -alertly for more, but he heard only the spatter -of rain upon the window.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XV <br /> <span class='small'>THE LIFE OF EDMUND BURLEY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>At one end of the bench outside the garden -door of Ashcroft, Widow Flemyng’s great black -cat lay sunning himself; at the other end Hugh -Gwyeth sat hugging one knee, while he wondered -drowsily which were the lazier, he or the cat. In -the alert blue spring weather the tips of green -things were bursting through the soft mould of -the garden; the birds were making a great ado -in the trees; and in the field beyond the hedge -the widow’s man, Ralph, was ploughing, and -whistling as he ploughed. Only Master Hugh -Gwyeth lingered idly on the garden bench and -meditatively handled the flabby muscles of his -arm till he grew impatient with himself. Three -weeks and more he had been at Ashcroft, yet this -was all the strength he had gained or was likely -to gain with sitting still. He dragged the cat, -heavy and reluctant, up from its nap, and was trying -to coax the creature to jump over his hands, -which at least required a little exertion, when -Nancy, the serving-maid, came out to potter -about the garden. Spying him, she called: “Don’t -’ee vex poor Gib, now. Better get thee into the -kitchen; the mistress is at her baking.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laughed, and, rising leisurely, made his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>way down the garden to the rear door. Women -were droll creatures, he reflected; his mother, of -course, had always treated him with tenderness, -but why these strangers should pamper him like -a child, and concern themselves about his every -movement, was more than he could puzzle out. -From the first Nancy had made no end of commiserating -him for the scar on his face, and even -the widow herself, for all her sharp ways, had -been melted to pity, when she came to examine -his wardrobe. “Well, well, well! when did a -woman put hand to these shirts?” she had cried, -whereat Hugh informed her blushingly that ’twas -his custom to have his shirts washed till they -grew too tattered to serve even under a buff -jacket, and then he threw them away. “You -poor thriftless child!” sighed the widow, “sure, -you’re not fit to be sent to the wars.” So she -mended his shirts and stockings, and, when that -way of showing her motherly care failed, brewed -him ill-tasting concoctions of herbs, which Hugh -swallowed courteously, though with inward protests -against this expression of good-will. He -was far more grateful when her kindness finally -took the form of cooking him such food as he -liked, and pressing him to eat at all times, for his -illness had left him with an alarming appetite, -which without such connivance could never have -been decently satisfied.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He halted now, as he had often done, with his -elbows on the sill of the opened window in the -long kitchen, and took a sweeping survey of the -dressers and the fireplace and the brick oven. -Just by the window stood a table at which the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>Widow Flemyng, with her sleeves tucked up and -her broad face flushed, was rolling out pastry. -“I marvel you’ve not been here before,” she said -gruffly, as she caught sight of him; “where have -you been all this morning now?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Teasing the cat,” Hugh answered. “Before -that I was down through the meadow—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The widow paused with her rolling-pin suspended. -“That meadow again? And no doubt -you wet your feet!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“On my word, good widow,” Hugh laughed, -“my kinsfolk have trusted me abroad without a -nurse for several years now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The more fools they!” she replied, smacking -the pastry smartly once more.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Profiting by the pause, Hugh reached one arm -in at the window and helped himself to a strip of -pie-crust, all hot and newly baked, that lay there; -he might repress his early fondness for honey -and jam, but crisp pastry was still too great a -temptation for him to resist.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s a right Roundhead trick to come -thieving at a poor woman’s window!” said the -widow.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Was there never such a thing as a Cavalier -thief?” Hugh suggested.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I never speak treason, sir. There do be some -that say there is a garrison yonder at Woodstead -Manor that never was known to pay for what it -lives by, but I speak no ill of the king’s men, -you’ll note.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh had cause enough to note and remember -the conversation a few days later. Of a dull -gray afternoon he had taken himself to his chamber, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>dutifully to practise thrusts with his sword -at a round mark on the wainscot, an exercise -which proved tedious, so he was glad enough -when a noise of horses stamping and men calling -in the yard below gave him an excuse for running -to the window. At the front of the cottage -nothing was to be seen, so, flinging on his coat, -he ran downstairs into the kitchen, whence came -the sound of high talk. Bursting into the room, -he found Nancy crouched by the fireplace, and -Ralph skulking by her, while at the door stood -Widow Flemyng, arms akimbo, in hot discourse -with a cross-eyed trooper, who wore the king’s -colors.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I tell you, it shall not be put up!” the man -was blustering. “We’d scarce set foot in your -stable when your rascal would be breaking a -stave across Garrett’s head.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And I tell you, you shall put up with it!” retorted -the widow. “Do you think to come plundering -decent loyal bodies, you minching thieves? -Not a step do you stir into this house. Reach -me hither the kettle, you white-livered Ralph.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh prudently got the kettle into his own -hands, then presented himself at the door with -the query, “What’s amiss?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here are three rogues from Woodstead who -seek to plunder the very horses from my plough,” -replied the widow, clapping hands on the kettle. -“Now come in if you dare, the pack of you!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Hugh stayed her arm, while he looked out -and got the situation. In the open space between -the rear door and the stable three horses -drooped their heads, and by them lingered two -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>dragoons, one heavy and surly, the other a thin-faced -fellow, who, looking sharply at Hugh, nudged -his comrade. It seemed just an ordinary small -foraging band, who were going beyond their authority, -so Hugh stepped out and confronted the -cross-eyed man with a stern, “What’s your warrant -for this?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“King’s service, sir,” the other replied, gazing -at him a little doubtfully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis service that will profit you little if it -come to your captain’s ears,” Hugh answered. -“There are none here but loyal people and -friends to the king. Best take advice and go -back empty-handed. ’Twill be for your good in -the end.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just there a hand was clapped heavily upon his -collar; instinctively Hugh was ducking to wrest -himself clear, when the cross-eyed man, too, caught -him by the throat of his jacket, and, realizing the -uselessness of a struggle, the boy held himself -quiet. “We’ll go back to Woodstead right -enough, sir,” spoke the thin-faced trooper, who -had first seized him. “But you’ll go with us, -Master Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My name is Edmund Burley,” Hugh replied -stoutly, though the heart seemed all at once to -have gone out of his body.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, you’ve enough the look of the other -gentleman for Lord Bellasis to pay ten pound for -the sight of your face. You can explain to him -who you are, sir,” scoffed the thin-faced man. -“Fetch a horse from the stable for him, Garrett.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that, as in an ugly dream, matters went -without Hugh’s agency. He felt his arm ache -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>in the hard grip of the cross-eyed man, which he -had no hope to shake off; he heard the widow in -heated expostulation with the thin-faced trooper, -assuring him the gentleman had dwelt with her -near six months, and could not have had a hand -in the mischief they charged him with; he saw -Nancy come out, all blubbering, to bring him his -hat, and he said, “Why, don’t cry over it, wench,” -and wondered at the dull tone of his voice. It -seemed an interminable time, but at length one -of the plough horses was led out, all saddled, and, -mounting as they bade him, he rode away with -them in the gray of the afternoon. As they -passed out from the yard he heard the door of -Ashcroft slam, and by that he knew the widow -was much moved.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then, turning eastward, they trotted slowly -across gray fields, a trooper on either side Hugh’s -horse, and he went as they guided. For he took -no heed to them, as he told himself that Dick -Strangwayes was far away in the North, Sir -William busied at Tamworth, and in Oxford -there was not a friend to aid him. Already he -seemed to feel the chill of the cells in the old -Castle at Oxford, and to see a room full of stern -men who bullied and frightened him; after that -he thought to hear the cart jolting beneath him -across the stony streets, while the people ran and -pointed at him; and then he felt a rope about -his throat. He tried helplessly to battle off such -thoughts, but they still pressed upon him till his -head was stupid with turning them over, and, -listening uncomprehendingly to the talk of those -about him, he rode in a sort of daze.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>The afternoon grew grayer and grayer, and was -merging into twilight when they rode through a -poor village, beyond which, upon a barren swell -of highland, they came to a stockade flung around -a small manor house. They crossed a rough -bridge over a moat, and so, keeping to the left -of the house, drew rein at length before a great -stable. “Yon’s the captain, now,” spoke the cross-eyed -man, peering into the dark of the building.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Looking to the cocks, I’ll be bound,” muttered -he of the sharp face.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What dog’s mischief have you been loitering -about, you knaves?” came from within the stable, -and the voice was one Hugh remembered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Captain Butler!” he cried, flinging himself -from the saddle, and, stumbling through the door, -near embraced the big Irishman who came to -meet him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good faith, ’tis not—” Butler began.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am Edmund Burley,” Hugh interrupted -feverishly. “Sure, you remember me, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Butler pulled him outside, where the light was -clearer, and after that instant’s pause turned upon -the troopers with a violent demand as to what -they meant. One replied, “’Tis he who killed -Master Bellasis;” but the captain cut him short -with a volley of abuse, that they durst hale thither -an innocent man and a friend of his, too, and followed -it with threats of a flogging to them all and -bluster and oaths, till the three were cowed into -a frightened silence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, I’ll be easy with you this time, you -rogues,” Butler resumed after a moment, “for -Master Burley is a merciful man, and I’m thinking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>would be better pleased that you went free. -And, faith, he bears so little malice he wishes you -all to drink his health.” Thus admonished, Hugh -pulled three shillings out of his pocket and tossed -them to his late captors before Butler led him -away to the house. “Come have a drink with -me, Burley,” he said, and added, with a chuckle, -“I take it you need it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That was a narrow escape, eh, Gwyeth?” he -spoke later, as Hugh was swallowing down a -bumper of Spanish wine in the west parlor of -the house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Narrow as I ever wish,” Hugh replied truthfully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think my fellows will hold their tongues -now, betwixt threats and bribes,” Butler went on. -“But after this you’d best do as you should have -done at the first, shelter yourself among honest -soldiers, who’d die ere they’d let a comrade come -to harm, just for spitting a paltry civilian.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the end Hugh thought it best to take the -advice; if he returned to Ashcroft there was no -reason that Cavalier marauders should not stray -thither again, and a second apprehension might -not end so happily. Then, besides, he was glad, -after his weeks of illness and dependence, to be -once more among men, who accepted him as an -equal and did not fret him with constant care. -Holding this feeling rather ungrateful, he took -pains to write a very civil and thankful letter to -the Widow Flemyng, which George Allestree -conveyed to her, when he rode to Ashcroft with -one of the men to fetch away Hugh’s clothes -and accoutrements.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>Allestree had welcomed Hugh boisterously, -although he had an alarming habit of almost -forgetting to call him Burley; the blue-eyed Irish -volunteer, Mahone, received him with open arms; -and even the lieutenant, Cartwright, unbent a -little toward him. Before a fortnight was out -Hugh understood, for by then he felt he could -have fallen on the neck of the meanest scamp, -just for joy at sight of a new face in the garrison. -Woodstead lay close upon the borders of Warwickshire, -where the rebels were up in strength, -so none were allowed to venture forth far from -the house. All day long there was nothing to -do but to walk up and down the cramped enclosure, -to converse with the troopers as to sick -dogs and lame horses, or to watch Butler’s cocks -mangle each other in fight, till in sheer disgust -Hugh turned away. But within the house he -found still less amusement; there was not even -a Gervase Markham or a Palmerin to read, so he -was reduced to persuading Allestree or Mahone -into fencing with him, and, that failing, could -only play at cards or watch the others at dice, -and listen to Cartwright’s same old stories or -the everlastingly same chatter of the younger -men.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Once, to be sure, there came a day of excitement, -when a part of the troop prepared to ride -away to forage in the hostile country. They set -forth bravely in the mid-afternoon, and till they -were lost in dust Hugh, with neither a horse to -ride nor sufficient strength for the work, watched -them wistfully from the entrance gate. Then -he loitered away to his lonely supper with Cartwright, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>who cursed the luck that left him behind -to command the garrison, and drank so deeply -Hugh must call a man to help him to bed. Next -day Butler and his men came back, noisy and -victorious, with cartloads of grain and much -miscellaneous plunder that the common soldiery -had taken to themselves. They brought also a -Roundhead lieutenant, half-stripped, grimy, and -sullen, whom Butler clapped into an obscure -room on a spare diet till he could find leisure -from his more serious affairs to look to him. -For the captain had laid hands on a considerable -amount of strong waters, so for two days there -was high carousing at Woodstead, which shocked -Hugh, used though he had become among these -comrades to the sight of hard drinking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>While Butler and his officers shouted and -smashed glasses below stairs, and the men in -their turn let discipline slip, Hugh, in the hope -of getting some tidings of his Oldesworth kindred, -bribed his way in to speak with the Roundhead -prisoner. The man was defiant at first, -then more communicative when Hugh smuggled -him in some bread and meat, but, being of a -Northamptonshire regiment, he could give little -of the information Hugh sought, save that he -had heard of Captain Thomas Oldesworth and -had had speech with Hugh’s other uncle, Lieutenant -David Millington, who was in garrison -with his company of foot at Newick in Warwickshire. -For his Roundhead kinsfolk’s sake Hugh -lent the lieutenant a coat, and, when Butler, in a -shaky, white state of sobriety, packed him off -under guard to prison at Oxford, gave five shillings -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>to the corporal who had charge of the -squad, and urged him to use the prisoner as -civilly as he could. Considering the temper of -the squad, however, and the fact that his old -acquaintance, the surly Garrett, was one of them, -Hugh decided those five shillings had probably -been expended for nothing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Near a week later the men came back, and, in -his joy at any new sight in his monotonous life, -Hugh turned out to meet them. He counted -them idly, as they came pacing in at the gate, till -his eyes fell upon a horse that Garrett led, a bay -horse, all saddled, which put up its head and -whickered. “Bayard!” Hugh cried, plunging -into the press, and, getting the horse clear, fair -put his arms about its neck in the face of the -whole garrison. “Where did you find him?” -he questioned Garrett a moment later, sharply, -to preserve his dignity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The man explained they had come home by a -way that took them near Ashcroft, for he held -there might be letters Master Burley would -gladly pay a price for, and there they had found -both a letter and the horse, which had been waiting -him some days.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh paid generously, the more so as he saw -the letter was directed in Dick’s black hand; -that made the sending of Bayard no longer a -mystery, for doubtless Dick would have him -come northward now and so had sent him the -horse. He could hardly wait to see the beast -stabled before he ran up to the chamber he -shared with Allestree, and tore open the letter -that should summon him. Then he read:—</p> - -<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span></div> -<div class='illo'> - -<p class='c000'><span class='sc'>Sweet Friend</span>:</p> -<p class='c007'>It doth grieve me to bring you aught of disappointment, but -patience perforce, lad. Sir W. hath need of ammunition and -of fieldpieces, so he hath commissioned me, because of old -acquaintance in those parts, to go into the Low Countries and -see what may be procured. I would I could take you with -me, but my time is short, for the ship only waits a prosperous -wind. When my task yonder is done I shall come quietly to -the place you know of to confer with Sir W. I will convey -you a word, and if you will join me there we will try another -bout with Fortune together. Till then you were best keep -yourself close. There is a rumor that the lord you know of -hath no such big voice in the king’s counsels as he used. Time, -then, and patience may bring all right with us. Commend me -to good Mistress Flemyng, and be assured at longest I shall -send for you ere the end of summer.</p> - -<div class='c013'>Your very loving friend,</div> -<div class='c014'><span class='sc'>Henry Ramsden</span>.</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='sc'>Newcastle</span>, May 20th, 1643.</p> - -</div> - -<p class='c007'>That night Hugh ate no supper. Sitting on -the broad window-bench he watched the sunlight -wane upon the floor, and the twilight fill in the -chamber, and from time to time, till it was quite -dark, he re-read the letter. In those hours he -came to realize how much he had lived on the -expectation that any day Dick might call for -him, and he sickened at the thought of the dull, -hateful days of inactivity before him, for now he -must school himself to endure the long three -months of summer with Butler’s crew. Below -he could hear the officers singing over their -wine, and, fearing lest Allestree might come half-drunk -to urge him to the table and jeer at his -sorry silence, he slipped out by the back way to -the stable, where till bedtime he tried to find -some comfort in petting Bayard.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>Next day life was running its old round, save -that the hope which before had made it tolerable -was gone. That week Hugh discontinued fencing; -the weather was over-hot, and besides, what -use to drill himself for action, when Dick had no -need of him, and his present companions were -content to idle? Instead of using the rapier, he -set himself to watching Allestree and Mahone -at dice, and at length came to take a hand himself. -It was an ill memory to him afterward, -those feverish summer mornings when, sitting in -their shirt-sleeves, they threw and threw, sometimes -with high words and oaths, sometimes in silence, -save for Allestree’s half-laugh when he made a -winning cast. Fortune varied, but in time there -came a day when Hugh got up from the table, -and, thrusting his hands into two empty pockets, -slouched off with his head down. He heard -Allestree say, “I hate a fellow who loses with ill -grace,” and Mahone call, “Hi, Ed! Come back. -Don’t give over, man, as long as you’ve a shirt -to stake. Put up your horse now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Hugh shook his head. Though he had -diced away every penny he possessed, and with -it every hope of setting out by himself to seek -other harborage than Woodstead, he would not -risk his horse and sword. Not twenty-four hours -later he had cause to rejoice at having kept his -equipments, for at the mess table Butler announced -briskly that next day the troop would -ride a-foraying into Northamptonshire, to a little -village called Northrope, where corn could be got -in plenty. “And wine from a brave tavern -there,” Allestree whispered Hugh; “Else the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>captain would not be so forward in this business.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But in his joy at having a hand in active service -once more, the end of the expedition mattered -nothing to Hugh. Before noon next day he had -his buff jacket on and his sword slung over his -shoulder, then fretted away the long hours of -expectation by tramping about the enclosure, settling -Bayard’s saddle, and listening to Allestree’s -proffered bets on the success of the night’s work. -The sun had set behind the low green hills, when -at last Butler led half his troop forth from Woodstead, -with Allestree to keep the rear and Mahone -and Hugh to put themselves wherever they were -bid. In spite of the gathering twilight the air -was still heavy with the sweltering heat of the -day, and the dust that was beaten up by the feet -of the horses prickled and stung. Before the -first mile was out Hugh had flung open his coat, -and was more disturbed at Bayard’s sweating -than at the thought of the skirmish that was -to come.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The night air was cooler and the stars were -out thick, when at length the word ran through -the line that Northrope lay over the next swell -in the plain. Falling in with the squadron -behind Butler, who was to sweep around and -attack the village from the east while Allestree -rode in at the west side, Hugh drew away noiselessly -from the rest of the troop, and at a swift -canter passed through a field into a piece of -spicy-smelling woodland. Beyond that they rode -softly along a stretch of sandy road, and at last -halted upon the brow of a hill, beneath which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>the dark roofs of cottages could be seen. At a -whispered command from Butler Hugh ranged -himself among the corporal’s guard who were to -keep the hill and stop whoever fled that way, -while the rest of the dragoons fell into place -behind the captain. Then the leader turned to -a trooper, who, swinging his dragon to his shoulder, -fired into the air. An instant, and far to the -west another shot replied, Butler shouted to -charge, and with his men at his heels galloped -away down the hill.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Below in the village Hugh heard the sound -of clattering hoofs, of shouts of attack, and shriller -cries. A moment later, and, as he gazed, he saw -over to the west a reddish gleam that broadened -and brightened. “They’ve fired the village,” -muttered one trooper, and the rest grumbled -subduedly that all within the scurvy place would -be burned ere they came to share the plunder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The moments ran on, while the fire rose and -sunk again, till Hugh judged the night more than -half spent. Still none had fled in their direction; -the men were restless at their useless stay, and -Hugh himself had grown to hate this waiting, -for it left him time to reflect, and to compare this -raid with the daylight fighting he had had under -Turner. For all the ugly sights of plunder to be -seen he felt it a relief when the corporal gave the -word to descend into the village, and gladly as -the rest he trotted forward.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Once in among the houses his comrades scattered -to plunder, but Hugh, left alone, rode on -down the street, which grew lighter with the flare -of the burning houses. He had sight of household -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>stuff that littered the roadway; in the lee -of a wall he saw a man sitting with his hand -pressed to his breast; and down toward the -blaze, where was a great yelling and confusion, -he made out against the glare the black shapes -of men running to and fro. He saw, too, nearer -at hand, a flapping sign-board before what seemed -an inn, where a noisy crew had possession, and -he halted a moment, while he wondered grimly -if Butler were not there and if he should report -to him. As he hesitated he heard some one -shout from an upper window of the cottage on -his right, and he let his eyes travel thither. The -place looked dark and blank, but as he gazed the -door was kicked open and a man came forth, holding -by the arm a girl, who dragged back with all -her slender strength. “What devil’s trade are -you about?” Hugh called angrily. “Bring the -wench hither.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The man hesitated, then unwillingly slouched -nearer. As the firelight flared along the street -Hugh saw it was his old enemy, the cross-eyed -trooper; then his gaze dropped lower to the -pallid face of the girl. At that Hugh sprang -from his saddle with a cry, “Lois, Lois!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XVI <br /> <span class='small'>ROUNDHEADS AND CAVALIERS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>He had thrust the trooper aside and drawn the -girl close to him. “Sure, you do not fear me, -Lois?” he urged, for she stood with her hands to -her face and her body braced tensely against the -pressure of his arm. “I’m Hugh Gwyeth. You’ve -not forgot—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At that she uncovered her face and stared at -him with so piteous a look of fright that Hugh -hated himself and all who had had a share in -that night’s work. “Be off with you.” He swung -round upon the cross-eyed trooper with some of -Allestree’s favorite oaths. “The gentlewoman is -kin to me. Get you hence and be thankful I let -you go with a whole skin.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he looked again to Lois, and, noting now -that she had no outer covering upon her shoulders, -unstrapped his cloak from the front of his -saddle and wrapped it about her, drawing the -folds up to hide her face somewhat. He felt her -hands clutch tremulously at his wrist, and her -voice broke into a choking sob: “O, Hugh! -In sober truth, ’tis you? You will take care of -me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To be sure I will,” he said, and, slipping -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>Bayard’s bridle over one arm, put the other about -the girl. “Just come with me now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They walked toward where the cottages were -burning, slowly, for Lois staggered as she went, -and Hugh, for all his brave speech, was dazed -with the necessity of thinking what he was to do -for her protection. Woodstead was no place to -which to fetch a girl, nor was any other harbor -open to him. He halted short in his perplexity, -then turned to her with a sudden idea: “Look -you here, Lois; would you wish me to convey -you unto Newick, to Lieutenant Millington?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis thither I was going,” she answered -faintly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, you shall be safe there ere to-morrow -noon,” he assured her. “Just a little time here, -and be not afraid.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thereupon he faced across the street to the -house with the sign-board, where he guessed -might be wine and Captain Butler. Within were -lights and men stamping to and fro, while without -at the entrance door lingered others, among -whom Hugh caught sight of Garrett, still sober, -and seized on him. “I want your help,” he said -brusquely; “I’ll pay you for it ere I die. Procure -some sort of white flag, and find me out a pillion -for this gentlewoman. Put it on my horse and -be ready to ride with me when I bid.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Leaving the man with mouth and eyes open in -astonishment, he led Lois into the tavern. Across -the corridor a trooper was sprawling, drunk, -Hugh saw, as he thrust him aside with his foot -to give the girl passage. Inside the common -room the floor crackled with broken glass, on the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>chimney-piece two candles sputtered unevenly, -and by the table, a bottle in one hand, a great -mug in the other, stood Butler. Hugh felt Lois -press closer to him, but he resolutely left her on -a settle by the wall and went up to the captain. -“I pray you, sir, give me a safe-conduct to pass -through the lines with one of your dragoons,” he -blurted out his business.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Butler cursed him roundly, and Hugh, standing -stiffly, heard him out without reply, while in his -heart he prayed the ugly fit of drunkenness might -speedily give place to the maudlin fit. A heavy -stamping made him turn in sudden hope as -Allestree reeled in from superintending the seizure -of the tavern stores. But one look at the -guidon told Hugh he was too far gone to aid him -now, so he could only fall back beside Lois, and, -taking hold of her hand, bid her wait a little -longer and not fear.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently, after Allestree had pitched into a -chair with his head on the table, Hugh once -more made his request to Butler, and once more -was gruffly refused. But then, chancing to spy -ink and paper on a shelf, he blotted off a safe-conduct, -and, again presenting himself to the captain, -begged him sign. There were refusals of varying -sternness, but with all the obstinacy of his square -chin Hugh followed the man up and down the -chamber, pen in hand, and, holding his temper -well in check for the girl’s sake, bore the other’s -abuse and only prayed him sign. At last Butler, -snatching the pen from his hand, splashed a great -signature across the sheet. “Take it, in the devil’s -name, you hell babe!” he cursed.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>Hugh thrust the paper inside his coat, and, -running to Lois, jostled a way for her out to the -open air. By the tavern door Garrett, holding a -pike with a white napkin bound to it, was sitting -his horse, and by him stood Bayard with a cushion -fixed behind the saddle. Hugh helped Lois to -her place, then, leaping up before her, rode briskly -out from the village.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Not till the sight of the fire and the noise of -the shouts of the plunderers were quite lost to -them did Hugh let Bayard’s eager trot subside -to an amble. He turned a little to ask Lois how -she fared, and bid her keep the cloak close about -her against the damp of the early morning; then -he called to Garrett, and, in talking with him of -the road they must take for Newick, time enough -passed for the stars to grow few in the sky. -After that they rode a long space in silence, save -for the soft scuff of the horses now and again -as they came upon a stretch of sandy road. The -sky grew a fainter dun color, and in the east a -slit of pale light showed, while in the west a white -shred of moon yet lingered on the horizon line. -The morning breeze, coming damp on Hugh’s -face, made him heavy with desire to sleep; only -at a splashing sound of water did he rouse up -with a jerk to find Bayard knee-deep in a ford -and drinking greedily. To right and left the -bushes above the stream were dusky, but flecks -of lighter gray showed in the water where the -road ran down to meet it. “’Twill be sunrise -soon,” Hugh said, and shook himself awake.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Think you, presently, I might have a drink of -water?” Lois asked hesitatingly.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>“Why, here and now you shall have it!” he -cried, and, flinging his bridle to Garrett, lifted -Lois from her place and led her a little upstream -within the shadow of the bushes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>As she knelt on the brink and drank slowly -from her hand, Hugh had space to note how -white her face was and how weary her every -gesture. So when she rose he drew her back a -little to the roots of an oak tree, where he bade -her sit and rest a time. Garrett shrugged his -shoulders, when the word was passed to him, -then tied the horses and went to stretch himself -on the bank farther down-stream. Hugh returned -to Lois, and, seating himself beside her, -persuaded her to lean against him, till her eyes -closed and he hoped that she might sleep. He -sat very still and looked sometimes at her brown -head against his shoulder, and sometimes at the -branches of the oak above him and the clear sky -beyond that was growing brighter and taking on -a bluish tinge. He listened to the hurry of the -brook and the restless stamp of the horses; then, -shutting his eyes, he seemed only to see Everscombe -manor house and the sunlight upon the -eastern terrace.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are you asleep, too?” The words were -spoken softly, but they startled him through all -his body.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am awake now, in any case,” he replied, and -laughed a little with a foolish sort of satisfaction -as he looked down at Lois. For the tense -look of the night before had left her eyes, and -she had again the face of his old comrade at -Everscombe.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>“Your poor arm will sleep next, Hugh. I am -leaning too heavily against it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I had not felt it,—if you are content.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lois smiled slightly and tremulously, then, slipping -out one hand, drew her fingers through the -wet grass. “There has been a heavy dew,” she -said irrelevantly, “and it has soaked my shoes,—my -shoe, I mean.” She let her feet just show -beneath her petticoat, and Hugh had sight of one -stout shoe and the toe of a small gray stocking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ve been tramping with one foot half -bare?” he broke out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, nay, I have been riding. I knew it not -till this morning, so I did not mind. I must have -left that other shoe in the closet where I hid -away.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me, Lois, how came you there at Northrope?” -he asked, after an instant.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The girl’s face lost its flash of gayety. “Why, -’tis only—” she began, and, pulling some blades -of grass, twisted them between her fingers without -looking at him. “Last October ’twas, Aunt -Delia said perchance I were best now go visit my -mother’s kinsfolk in Northamptonshire. And -last week they said I had best visit her again. -O me, I know not why they will not have me! I -do not eat so much, Hugh, and I am ready to be -of service.” She pushed aside his arm and leaned -forward with her head upon her knee; by the -movement of her shoulders he knew that she was -crying.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He realized well why she wept, and he knew, -too, there was no help that he could offer; so he -only bent forward, and, speaking her name gently, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>patted her shoulder. He heard her swallow a -sob, then, with her head still bowed, she went on -defiantly, “So there is nothing to tell, Hugh. -A neighbor was riding to Northrope for the day, -so they sent me with him and he left me at that -cottage. They thought perhaps some carrier -might be going to Newick, and would convey me -thither; then Lieutenant Millington would find -means to despatch me to Everscombe. That is -all.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh bit his nails and made no reply. If his -own father rejected him, how could he reproach -the uncles and aunts who grudged shelter to an -orphan girl? Only she was a girl and weak, and -somehow they seemed worse than Alan Gwyeth. -He fell back on his stock piece of comfort: “You -should ha’ been a boy, Lois, and then it had all -been easy.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I have no wish to be a boy,” Lois said -sorrowfully, as she turned away her face to wipe -her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps ’twould not be so pleasant,” Hugh -admitted, and added, with a thought of Frank, -“Young boys are sometimes vexatious.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lois gave a laugh that was a bit hysterical. -“You have grown very arrogant. Prithee, now, -tell me all about yourself and how you got that -sorry scar.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh hesitated, to collect himself, then set -forth at great length what pertained to Strangwayes, -and very hastily told her that his father -had disowned him. At that her face grew so -grave he hurried back to Strangwayes again, and -forbore to tell her of the duel. So they talked on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>till a shaft of sunlight dazzled upon the brook, and -the trees cast clean dark shadows on the pathway. -“We must ride for Newick,” said Hugh, -jumping to his feet. “You’re not so weary, Lois? -Wait till the next village and you shall have wine -to hearten you. Perchance you could eat, too?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perchance, if ’twere offered,” Lois replied -demurely, as she smoothed her hair with her -hands.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It shall be looked to, I promise you,” he answered -gayly, and walked away. Before he had -gone ten paces, however, his gayety was at an -end, for he tucked his hands into a brace of bare -pockets. He fidgeted a moment by the horses; -then, taking his only course, walked over to the -surly trooper. “Garrett,” he began, in a low tone, -“have you money about you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will you lend unto me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You swore the giving should lie all on your -side,” the other answered suspiciously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I tell you I’ll pay,” Hugh said angrily; and, -seizing on the two shillings the other reluctantly -proffered, walked away with his face burning.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It had been a petty incident, but the ill taste of -it lingered with him, and took all pleasure from -the getting to horse once more. Even the sight -of Lois’s half-smiling face, and her droll efforts -to spare her stockinged foot, could not restore -him to his old contented mood. He led her in -silence to where Bayard stood, and there she -halted suddenly with eyes upon the horse. “Why, -’tis indeed the same,” she cried. “’Tis Peregrine’s -steed they said you—”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>“Stole?” Hugh asked sharply. “Ay, ’tis the -same.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he lifted her to her place, and without a -word more set forward.</p> - -<p class='c007'>An hour later, in the full heat of the morning -sun, they rode into a little hamlet, where the people -stared at the Royalist red sashes, and shouted -saucy comments on the strangers. Hugh made -his way scowlingly to the village inn, and, helping -Lois dismount, led her into the common room, -where he called on the hostess to bring wine and -white bread for the girl. “Are you going with -these ruffians of your own will, sweetheart?” he -heard the good woman whisper Lois.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was turning away impatiently, when, just at -the door, he ran upon the tapster. “Draw two -mugs of ale for my man and me,” he ordered -curtly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will I, sir? Who’s to pay?” retorted the -other. “An you pay, ’twill be the first of your -color—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will you talk?” Hugh cried, with an oath; -and struck the fellow so he staggered. “Fetch -what I bid now,” he swore. Then he turned to -go back into the common room; and there Lois -sat, not eating, but gazing at him with blank, dismayed -face.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Without staying to drink his ale, Hugh went -out and loitered at Bayard’s head, where he kicked -up spiteful little spurts of dust and would not -stroke the horse. When Lois hobbled out at -last in a pair of over-large shoes, he helped her -to mount; she did not speak, and he only looked -sharply at her, but said nothing. As the roofs of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>the village sank behind the hill in their rear, however, -he turned in the saddle and addressed her -almost roughly, “So you are not pleased with -me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sure, Hugh, I must be pleased; you have -used me so kindly—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s a right woman’s trick to bungle at a -plain ‘no,’” he said, with a curt laugh; then -started, for tone and laugh sounded to him as -an echo of Allestree, whom he had left drunk at -Northrope. Putting spurs to Bayard, he pressed -on at a reckless pace, so the dust rose thick and -white, and turned his throat dry, and sifted in -between his collar and his neck. He was hot -and weary and wretchedly angry against all the -world, especially against Lois Campion, why, he -could not tell himself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In such a mood he cantered into the shadow of -the first of a straggling line of cottages, where a -sentinel in a yellow sash, springing to the middle -of the road, bade him pull up. “Conduct me -to Lieutenant Millington,” Hugh ordered, showing -his safe-conduct; so in a few moments he was -riding down the street at an easy pace, with a -Roundhead corporal walking at his bridle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They drew up without the gate of a large, half-timbered -house, which set back from the road in -a garden of red roses that dazzled drearily before -Hugh’s eyes. “If you will accept of my aid—” -he said brusquely to Lois, and had just swung -her down from the horse’s back, when he heard -the gate clatter open behind him. He turned -about, and came face to face with Peregrine -Oldesworth.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>For an instant they confronted each other without -speaking, time enough for Hugh to take note -that his cousin wore a pompous great pair of -boots and a long sword, and had grown a scrap -of dark mustache that made him look older than -his years. Then said Peregrine, “Well, have -you come to fetch back that stolen horse, Master -Thief?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The horse is best off with him who has the -wit to keep him,” Hugh replied quickly. “Be -assured I had not come to you beneath a white -flag, if it had not been to bring Lois hither.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And a brave convoy you have had, Cousin -Lois,” Peregrine said, with a dull flush on his -face. “The next time you must roam the country-side, -pray you, seek another protector than a -scape-gallows like this.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You know well, Cornet Oldesworth,” Hugh -retorted, “that I would pay it back to you, if you -durst put that term to me in any other place.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you’d like to murder me as you murdered -Bellasis?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Murdered! What do you mean?” The -words came faintly from Lois, and to Hugh’s -fancy she seemed to draw a little from him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Maybe he will set it forth to you himself,” -sneered Peregrine.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I killed a man in a fair duel,” Hugh replied -shortly. “I leave you to your cousin’s care, -Lois.” With that he seized Bayard’s bridle and -turned away, he cared not whither, only he did -not wish to see the horror in Lois’s eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps you’ll give your horse a rest here at -the stable, sir?” the Roundhead corporal at his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>elbow suggested civilly. Hugh slouched down -the road after him, and scarcely heeded Garrett -beside him, chuckling, “Well, sir, I knew from -the start you were Master Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now you’re sure of it, you’d best carry the -news to Oxford,” Hugh replied; “I cannot buy -silence.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After they were into the cool of the black -stable and he had seen Bayard cared for, he sat -down on a truss of straw and stared at the motes -that swam in the sunlight by the open door. -His eyes ached with the light and the dust, and -his throat was all choked; he crushed the straws -between his fingers as he sat, and in this destruction -found his only ease.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He roused up as a petty officer entered the -stable, who prayed him, from Lieutenant Millington, -to come back to the house and dine with -the officers of the company. Hugh hesitated a -moment, then came, rather sullen and defiant, -and after washing the dust from his face entered -the dining room. Millington, a heavy, slow man -of near forty, greeted him courteously, and presented -him to his brother officers, who were distant -and suspicious. “You are of Woodstead, -are you not, sir?” one asked him, with an implication -that made Hugh guess the other held -him to have come from a den of all iniquities.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then they conversed of matters that concerned -them, while Hugh swallowed his dinner in silence, -with an occasional pause to stare defiantly at Peregrine, -who scowled at him from the opposite -corner of the table. It was a relief when the -meal was ended and he could rise, bent on setting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>out from the place at once; but Millington -bade him step apart with him into an empty parlor. -“’Tis an ill report we have had of you this -winter, Hugh Gwyeth,” he began judicially, as -he seated himself by the open window; “can you -give me nothing better to bear to Everscombe?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh stood erect, with a feeling that he was a -culprit brought to sentence, and replied that he -had only slain a man in a fair fight, and he held -that no wrong.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps not;” Millington waived the question; -“but I tell you, nephew, ’tis not the part of -an honest gentleman to be herding with such -drunken libertines and cowardly bullies as those -that hold Woodstead.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mayhap ’tis not the company I would keep -of my own will,” Hugh admitted, “though they -have been kind to me. But ’tis best I lie close -just now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you have done no wrong why need you -hide yourself?” Millington retorted, with a flicker -of a triumphant smile.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have me a murderer and a thief, if you will,” -Hugh flung back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, ’tis that I held you a lad of good parts, -in spite of your running after these strange -gods. That you have dealt so courteously by -little Mistress Campion shows you are not all lost -yet. But take heed to the associates you keep.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt a guilty hotness in his face, but, -bracing himself, he listened with respect to all -his uncle had to say farther in the same strain, -and, when he had done, he replied honestly, “I -thank you, sir; methinks you mean all kindly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>So he took his leave, and turned away to summon -Garrett; then remembered, and with a downcast -look hesitated back to Millington. “An’t -like you, uncle,” he faltered, “I am ashamed to -ask it, but I have had to borrow money to provide -for Lois, and I promised this fellow of mine -reward for aiding me. And I have no money.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Eh? How do you live, then, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I had some. I lost it at dice,” Hugh admitted -shamefacedly. “On my honor, I never -will again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was an instant’s pause, then Millington -said more coldly, “I’ll pay the man,” and led the -way from the house. Hugh, following behind -like a chidden child, saw his uncle go to Garrett, -who waited with the horses just outside the gate, -and saw him fee the trooper; by the man’s face -he guessed it was done liberally, but he knew -the fact that the money came from another’s -hand must always lower him in the fellow’s -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dreading to meet the trooper’s curious look, -he was lingering an instant on the garden walk, -feigning to adjust his boot-tops, when he heard -behind him some one call his name. He would -not look up till there came a touch on his arm, -and he must raise his eyes to meet Lois’s gaze. -“I wanted to thank you, Hugh,” she said gently.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You need not.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And I wanted to ask your pardon, if I hurt -you. Truly, I will never believe you have done -anything that is base, whatever they say. Prithee, -forgive me, Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should ask you to forgive it that I was so -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>surly,” he hesitated. “And—and next time I -meet you, Lois, I’ll have mended my manners, so -you need not be dismayed. Farewell now.” He -looked her frankly in the eyes as he spoke, then -bent a little and kissed her hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He came out at the gate more briskly than he -had hoped, and there, by the horses, found Peregrine -and Lieutenant Millington in talk. “When -you go back to Thomas Oldesworth tell him from -me he should have taught you that a white flag -protects the bearer,” he heard Millington say, -and he noted Peregrine had fixed covetous eyes -on Bayard. Indeed, as Hugh swung into the -saddle, his cousin broke out, “You’ll pay me for -that horse one day, sirrah.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Hugh deliberately turned his back upon -his bluster, while he bade his uncle a second -farewell, then waved his hat to Lois, who still -stood among the roses in the garden, and so -headed his horse away from Newick.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The shadows of the two horsemen showed long -in the late afternoon sun, and lengthened and -blended at last into the gray of the twilight. -Frogs piped to them in the dusk as they threaded -their way through a bit of bog land, and after that -they went a long piece in silence under the wakeful -stars. Hugh suffered Bayard go slowly, while -he felt the pleasant night air upon his face and -harked to the hoof-beats, muffled by the yielding -road, till at length a light upon a distant hill -showed where Woodstead lay. At that the horses -freshened their pace, and, with a good flourish, -they cantered in at the gate of the manor house -and pulled up at the stables.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>Bayard once made comfortable, Hugh went -slowly back to the house, where he found the -officers, with their coats off and the table well -stored with glasses, loitering in the west parlor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you’re back, are you, sir?” Butler greeted -him. “Well, now you’ve had a safe-conduct and -all at your disposal, is there anything else you’d -command of me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing, sir,” Hugh replied, as he threw off -his buff coat. “I’ll not need your good offices, -for—In short, sir, I’m wearied of hiding, and I -want back my own name again. So ’tis in my -mind to ride for Oxford to-morrow.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XVII <br /> <span class='small'>THE STRANGER BY THE WAY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“You’ve a gray day for a start and a gallows -at the end,” Allestree spoke encouragingly, as he -lounged in the doorway of the manor house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twill be profitable to you, Master Gwyeth, -to turn your thoughts as you go to composing -your last good-night,” Mahone paused in lighting -his pipe to add cheerfully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh put his attention to drawing on his -gauntlets and made no reply; in the last twelve -hours there had been threats and expostulations -and jeers enough to teach him that his only -course was to be silent and keep to his determination.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll lay you five shillings, George, he loses -courage and sneaks back in time for dinner,” -Mahone resumed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The blood shot up to Hugh’s face; he knew -that was what Mahone wanted, and he was the -angrier that he had gratified him. He turned -sharp away and fumbled at Bayard’s headstall -till he felt surer of his self-control, then asked -stiffly: “Can you tell me if the captain is in the -west parlor? I must take my leave of him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t begrudge you the task,” Allestree -hinted. “The captain lost his temper at Northrope, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>because the scurvy little tavern was so ill -supplied, and he has not found it again yet. So -look to yourself, Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It did not need Allestree’s warning to bring the -heart down into Hugh’s boots; the mere inhospitality -of the closely shut door of the west parlor -and the grim tone in which Butler bade him come -in were enough to daunt him. The captain had -been writing ponderously at the table in the centre -of the room, but at Hugh’s coming he flung down -his pen, and, after surveying him scowlingly, burst -out: “You’re still set in your folly, then? Well, -for Dick Strangwayes’ sake I’d fain have saved -you, in spite of your cursed sullen ways.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have not meant to be discourteous to you, -Captain Butler,” Hugh protested; “I thank you -for sheltering me and saving me that first time, -I do thank you heartily. But now I think it -better—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To seek other company,” Butler retorted. “If -you were a bit older, I’d be angry with you, sir; -and if you were a small bit younger, by the Lord, -I’d cuff some wit into you; as ’tis—Well, I’ll -shake hands, if you wish. On my soul, ’tis pity -so decent a lad should not have the sense to keep -his head on his shoulders.” Thereupon he turned -his back, and, with great show of being occupied, -fell to his writing, so Hugh, feeling miserably rebuked, -had no course but to go quietly from the -room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Perhaps his downcast state touched Allestree -a little, for he met him more kindly and spared -farther jests while Hugh was mounting Bayard. -“Better go to Tamworth if you are ill at ease -<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>here,” he counselled wisely. “But in any case -God speed you and protect you for the sake of -the innocence of you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At this Mahone went into a fit of laughter, -from which he recovered only in time to bawl a -farewell that reached Hugh but faintly, as he rode -out by the sentinel at the gate of Woodstead.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Travelling slowly, to spare Bayard after his -heavy work of the preceding day, he came about -noon to a cross-road, where for a moment he -hesitated: should it be north to seek Sir William’s -help, or south to put himself into the provost’s -hands and trust to his own innocence of -ill intent to bring him clear? But he soon told -himself that, if Sir William had had the power to -aid, he would long ago have helped Dick Strangwayes; -and, in any case, he had no will to live -longer in holes and corners, as if he were indeed -the murderer Peregrine had called him. Perhaps -he would find friends if he went on boldly. -So he jogged southward at an easy pace, so easy, -indeed, that he gave up all idea of reaching Oxford -that day. “And we don’t care to lie in the -fields, Bayard,” he talked softly to the horse. -“And we’ve not a penny to our names to hire -lodgings. What say you if we swerve off to -Ashcroft? Perhaps they’ll shelter us this night.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At heart he knew they would, yet, remembering -how carelessly he had departed thence, he -felt a little backward about presenting himself to -the Widow Flemyng. His pace lagged more -and more as he drew near the farm, and he might -have halted short to reconsider, had not the spat -of rain upon the white roadway warned him to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>look to the sky. There the clouds were black -with storm and thunder, so, having no wish to -come at last to Oxford all bedraggled, he spurred -forward hastily and galloped Bayard into Ashcroft -stable just as the rain began pelting down.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Storm or no storm, so soon as he had delivered -over the horse to Ralph’s care, he put his head -down and ran for the house, where he pitched -blindly in at the kitchen door. He heard a -shriek from Nancy, “Preserve us! mistress, ’tis -Master Burley come back,” and then the widow’s -peremptory tones: “Take those boots off right -where you stand, sir, else you’ll track mud over -my new-sanded floor.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh balanced uneasily on one foot as he -obeyed, then asked meekly if he mightn’t be permitted -to sit down now?</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, at table, is it?” questioned the widow, -bustling to the nearest cupboard. “Hungry as -ever, I take it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Always,” Hugh replied, and fetched a stool to -the table against the kitchen wall, where he was -presently busy with a cold capon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the midst the widow paused at his side and -laid a folded paper by his trencher. “’Tis well -you came hither now, Master Burley,” she said. -“This was fetched from Tamworth for you by a -close-mouthed trooper three days agone. I was -almost resolving me to get upon the old mare -and ride to seek you at Woodstead. I am no -chit of a girl to fear those saucy knaves.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laughed, and with frank curiosity unfolded -the paper; within were two gold sovereigns, -but not a sign of writing, though he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>turned the sheet over and over. “What does -this mean?” he asked blankly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve told all I know,” replied the widow. “I -did my best to learn more of the fellow who -brought it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh finished his dinner in silence, while he -turned over various solutions. Dick was out of -the kingdom, and in any case he would never -have sent the coins and no word; but Sir William -had supplied them with money while they -lay hid at the “Sceptre”; or perhaps Frank, with -his well-filled pockets and his boyish fondness for -mystery, had had to do with this. At any rate -the money was there in his hands and made his -journey easier, so much so that he felt, had he -been superstitious, he would have hailed it as a -sign that he was to go on to Oxford as he had -started.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Yet when the twilight shut in, gray with drizzling -rain, there came on him a heavy feeling of uncertainty; -his own determination, though he felt -so sure of it, weakened a little before the memory -of the opposition of all his friends. In such -a mood he loitered into the cottage parlor, where, -finding the Widow Flemyng sitting idle in the -dusk, he drew up a stool and blurted out to her -his true name and how matters stood with him. -“I fear you’d not have cared to harbor me, had -you known what a charge I lay under,” he concluded -humbly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, child, I suspected all along,” the good -woman hastened to reply, and Hugh, staring dutifully -at the gray rain outside the lattice, thought -it wise not to contradict her. It gratified him, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>too, as she continued speaking, to find she did -not hold him a fool for his resolution. Indeed, -she said emphatically no worse harm could befall -a decent lad at Oxford than at Woodstead, and -in any case she was well assured no one would -ever have the heart to hang him. “You were -best cast yourself on the king’s mercy,” she ended. -“Now had you great friends at court, or could -get to have audience with his Majesty.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did you ever hear the ballad of ‘Johnny -Armstrong’?” Hugh asked. “Dick used to sing -it. There was a man sought the king for pardon -and he got little good by it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>All the same her assurances made him more -confident in himself, so he slept that night untroubled -and woke ready for whatever the day -might bring. Perhaps it was the widow’s continued -encouragements, perhaps it was the good -breakfast he made, or perhaps the sight of the sun -struggling through the watery clouds, that served -still farther to put him in high spirits. Be as that -may, he took a gay farewell of Widow Flemyng -and of Nancy, and cantered out by the pasture -lane at a hopeful pace, as if he were eager to -cover the distance to Oxford and whatever waited -him there.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The rain of the preceding day had laid the dust -well, and left in the air a lingering fragrance of -moist earth and beaten grasses that made it a -temptation to slacken speed along the country -road. In the hedges by the wayside the honeysuckle -was still dripping with wet; Hugh pulled -a tuft of blossoms as he passed, and crushed them -slowly in his bare hand. How sweet and good -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>was life in summer time, he reflected, and then -he flung the blossoms away and, whistling persistently, -thought no more, for his mind was all made -up.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At the first tavern he came to he bought him -a draught of ale, bravely, now there was money -in his pocket, then trotted on without halt till -past noon. By that the sun had burnt away the -clouds, and the still heat made the journey less -pleasant; so, coming upon a sleepy village with -a small neat inn, the “Bear and Ragged Staff,” -Hugh thought well to rest the midday hours and -get food for himself and his horse. The fear of -being recognized and apprehended before he -should have a chance to give himself up made -him call for a private room, where he ate alone, -except that the host bustled in to serve him and -retail a variety of gossip. Oxford was near -enough for the daily news to pass to the village, -so Hugh heard a deal of authentic information of -how the king was said to lean now to the counsels -of the hot-heads and to the army, and how -the royal troops might any day set forth to take -in Bristol. He scarcely heeded more, for the -talk of Oxford had turned his thoughts again to -what was before him. Where should he eat his -next meal, he wondered, with a remembrance of -the grim Castle; and then, impatient at his own -faltering, he jumped up hastily, and, paying his -reckoning, went down to the little court of the -inn, where he bade them saddle Bayard at once.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The horse had been led out into the shade of -an open shed, and Hugh was lingering by the -stirrup to fee the hostler, when outside the gateway -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>sounded a great clattering of hoofs, and a -gentleman came spurring in upon a white horse, -that stumbled on three legs. “Have me hither -a fresh mount, briskly, you knaves!” he shouted, -flinging a handful of loose coin among the stable-boys -and loiterers. Then, as he put eyes on -Bayard, he swung himself from his saddle. -“This beast will serve my turn,” he called to the -host, who had just showed himself at the door of -the inn.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“By the Lord, this beast will not serve your -turn!” Hugh cried hotly, and, catching hold on -Bayard’s bridle, flung himself before the horse in -time to confront the stranger. “This is no post-horse, -sir, but mine own.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The other turned sharp away with a shrug of -the shoulders; they were broad shoulders, Hugh -noted, and the rough gray coat fitted them ill. -“Put saddle to another horse at once,” the man -bade.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There is no other at hand, your Honor,” the -host apologized, as he ventured out into the court. -“All are at the smith’s. Belike in a half-hour, -your Worship—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Enough,” the other interrupted him, and -strode back to Hugh. “What will you sell this -beast for?” he asked curtly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not again for all the gold in England,” Hugh -replied, tightening his grasp on the bridle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My faith, sir, I’ve no intent to knock you -down and steal the horse,” the other answered, -with a short laugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His cool tone allayed the heat of Hugh’s anger -sufficiently for him to note the man more closely -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>now, and he perceived he was not above three or -four and twenty, of a tall strong build, with sharp -eyes. Hugh caught his breath and stared frankly, -while his mind jumped back to his first day at -Oxford, when he and Allestree, standing upon the -steps, had watched the king and his retinue ride -by. The stranger had turned his back upon him -now, and drawn over to the centre of the court, -but his voice was loud, and Hugh could hear him -bidding the hostler run out and procure him a -farm-horse or aught that went upon four legs. -With a sudden desperate impulse Hugh thrust -forward and spoke boldly, “If it like you, sir, -you may have my horse now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your price?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No price. I’ll lend him unto you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ve changed your tune quickly, sir,” said -the man, coming back to Bayard’s side.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m thinking ’tis likely your business is of -more weight than mine, your Highness,” Hugh -answered, in a tone that sank to a whisper.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you know me?” asked the stranger, with -his foot already in the stirrup.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can guess, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Spare guessing, then, for taxing the brain,” -retorted the other, as he settled himself in the -saddle. “Give me your name, though, sir; I’ll -not forget your service.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh hesitated an instant, then replied, “Hugh -Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve heard that name. Perhaps you’re kinsman -to him that killed Bellasis’ son?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I—I am the man that killed him, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You? The deuce you are!” the stranger -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>broke out; and, to Hugh’s amazement, he did -not look horrified, but more as if he were inclined -to laugh. “Come seek me to-morrow -morning at my quarters,” he said abruptly, then, -gathering up the reins, went out of the inn -yard at a gallop.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh stood gazing blankly after him, and -could not decide whether to be elated or dismayed, -for he knew the stranger was Prince -Rupert, and he was to have audience with him -next morning. Carry his cause to the king, the -widow had counselled him, Hugh reflected, and -he tried to smile at the remembrance, though his -heart was sober and anxious.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just there the host interrupted him; what was -his pleasure now? Surely he would not attempt -to make his journey with the lame horse? “No, -let him rest,” Hugh ordered; “I’ll venture him in -the morning. For now give me a chamber; I’ll -lie here this night.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was early astir next day, for, though the -way to Oxford was short, he was not sure of his -mount, and, in any case, he was burning with -desire to present himself before the Prince and -know the worst that was destined for him. The -white horse still went lame with a strained fore-leg, -but, sparing him as much as he could, Hugh -contrived about eleven of the clock to pace slowly -into the city. Before he entered the suburbs he -had flung on his cloak, in spite of the heat, and -pulled his hat low on his forehead; but still he -was nervously alert to avoid the fixed gaze of those -he met, and he dreaded any delay in the street. -By dint of such precautions, perhaps, he came at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>last unchallenged to Christ Church, where he remembered -Prince Rupert had his quarters.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The groom who took his bridle eyed him -sharply, and, once across the quadrangle and -within the broad hall, a trig gentleman usher -looked askance at his worn boots and shabby -buff coat. Hugh had too much upon his mind, -however, to trouble for his poor attire. He sat -uneasily in the great chair to which he had been -motioned, and studied the sunlight that fell from -a long window high up toward the roof of the -hall, till the usher came at last to bid him follow. -Hugh trudged obediently up a great flight of -stairs that creaked alarmingly, and, as he went, -wondered why there was an emptiness where his -heart ought to be, and his throat felt all choked -up.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A great door was swung open, he remembered; -then he was within a long sunshiny chamber, -with heavy table and big dark chairs, the usher -had gone, and he was left face to face with his -Highness, the Prince, and another youngish gentleman, -who sat at opposite sides of the table -with a jumble of papers betwixt them. “You -keep your time well, Master Gwyeth,” spoke the -Prince, and put by a paper like a map he had -been studying.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your Highness bade me,” Hugh stammered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So ’twas you killed Bellasis’ son,” the other -repeated, still amusedly. “Lay down that order, -Grandison. I want you to have a look at this -desperate duellist.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That boy, your Highness?” drawled the man -at the table.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>The blood came hot into Hugh’s cheeks. “I -pray your Highness, hang me, if you will, but do -not mock me,” he blurted out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Who speaks of hanging you here, lad?” -Prince Rupert answered, in so kindly a fashion -that Hugh gazed at him in surprise. “Nay, had -I my way, I’d give a captaincy to every man who -has the goodness to take off one of these cursed -civilians who are always holding our hands. You -are of the army, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I hope to be, your Highness. I am only a -volunteer now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis near enough for all soldiers to aid you as -a fellow-soldier.—And how think you, Grandison, -my Lord Bellasis would take it, if this gentleman -received a free pardon?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He would deem himself most notably affronted,” -the other answered soberly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh made a step forward and let his words -come fast: “If it be your Highness’s will, if ’tis -in your thought to aid me, I do entreat you, let -my case go, so far as it concerns me. But there -is my friend that went to the field with me, for -my sake, and cared for me when I was ill with -my hurt afterward. He lost a commission because -of me. If there is only one can be pardoned, -I beseech your Highness let it be he.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And how do they call this notable friend of -yours?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Richard Strangwayes, your Highness. He -was lieutenant in the regiment of Sir William -Pleydall.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pleydall? Ah, your case was brought unto -our notice two months back. Ay, surely. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>Gwyeth and Strangwayes. Sir William Pleydall -was urging your pardon through a certain -Captain Gwyeth who came to me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh dropped his hand down on the back -of a chair close by and griped it hard, while he -gazed blankly at the Prince, yet scarcely saw -him. Captain Gwyeth had been urging his pardon, -he repeated over and over to himself, yet -could not make it comprehensible. Then he -realized that his Highness was speaking again, -and he roused himself up to listen. “Two -months back that was. Well, there is time for -many matters to change in two months. Perchance -your business can be settled for you, -Master Gwyeth. Only you must promise to -fight no more duels,” the Prince added, with a -laugh in his sharp eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I will promise, your Highness,” Hugh answered -soberly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And break it, I’ll wager. You were ready to -draw your sword on a poor dismounted traveller -yesterday. Maybe you’d like to have back that -horse you’d not take all the gold in England for?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If it does please your Highness,” Hugh said -politely; then added honestly, “I should be loath -to part with him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>His Highness laughed outright. “Go to my -stable and call for the horse,” he bade. “Come -hither again in a week or so, and there may be -tidings for you. Only see you do not come to -court too often, Master Gwyeth; ’twould be a pity -to spoil the honest blunt soldier you are like to -be with a slippery courtier polish.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he turned again to his map in sign of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>dismissal, and Hugh somehow contrived to bow -himself safely through the door. He was out in -the green quadrangle before he got it through his -head that Prince Rupert himself would move for -his pardon to the king, and then he recollected he -had not even said “thank you,” and he flushed hot -with the consciousness of his own churlishness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It changed his thoughts a trifle to seek out his -way to the stable and claim Bayard, whom he had -been ready to give up for lost and was proportionately -glad to recover. Once upon the horse’s -back, he took himself unostentatiously through -the streets to the lodgings of his fencing-master, -de Sévérac, who received him warmly, when Hugh -assured him he was fairly sure of pardon and -sought only to have quiet harborage for the week. -Those seven days he passed in the dingy sleeping-room -behind the fencing-hall, where he studied -the pictures in a great French folio, “<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">L’Academie -de l'Espee</span>,” or entertained de Sévérac in his leisure -moments with a full account of the duel with -Bellasis. The fencing-master, who took a professional -pride in his pupil’s success, entreated -Hugh not to persist in saying the victory was due -solely to Bellasis’ carelessness; ’twas just as easy -to give credit to himself and those who taught him -the use of the rapier.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thus the week dragged to an end, while Hugh -counted the days impatiently, and heard with terror -that troops were setting out for Bristol, for in -the confusion the great men might well forget his -business. At last the seventh day came, and, -having put on a clean shirt and brushed his coat, -he set out for Christ Church. As he went he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>tried to steel himself against possible disappointment -by telling over the many cases of the ingratitude -of kings; but at heart he knew he did not -believe so ill of the Prince, and in the end his -trust was justified. He had not been kept waiting -many minutes in the great hall, when a trim -officer came from above-stairs, and, asking him if -he were not named Gwyeth, delivered to him a -fair great piece of parchment all sealed up. “’Tis -my pardon?” Hugh burst out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The other smiled, not unkindly. “The king -of his clemency has been pleased, at his Highness’s -entreaty, to grant a full pardon to those who -had a hand in the death of Philip Bellasis,” he -explained formally; then added, “Suffer me congratulate -you, Master Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In a dazed fashion Hugh shook the other’s hand, -then came forth from the hall into the open air. -There he paused, and pushed his hat well back on -his head so all could see his face, then, walking -out into the South Street, tramped half across the -city. For he need not skulk nor shrink now, he -was a free man again; and how stoutly he meant -to fight for Prince Rupert, since he could show -his gratitude in no other way. Then it came over -him that he were best post off at once to Tamworth -and thank Sir William Pleydall, who had -first begun the movement to relieve him, and -thank Alan Gwyeth, who had been Sir William’s -instrument. Hugh scowled and walked a little -slower.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But still all his friends lay at Tamworth, and he -would speed a letter thence to tell Dick the good -news; so in the end he made briskly for his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>quarters. Taking time first to hale out de Sévérac -to a fine dinner at an ordinary, where they ate -under the full gaze of the town, he got to horse, -and, ere mid-afternoon, trotted forth from the city. -He calculated he would make the “Bear and -Ragged Staff” just about dusk, and, true enough, -he rode down the village street while the red -flush of the sunset still lingered in the west.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Inside the court of the inn he saw five horses -standing, stripped of accoutrements and already -half rubbed down by the hostler and his groom. -“Take this beast of mine in to make the half-dozen,” -Hugh bade, and, dismounting, walked -leisurely across the court to the side door. His -eyes travelled above the door to an open lattice, -and, as he gazed, like the flash of a face in a -dream, he had sight of Dick Strangwayes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For an instant Hugh stood petrified while he -took in each detail,—Strangwayes’ clean-shaven -jaw, the sweep of mustache, the bandage about -his forehead, even the way in which he leaned -heavily at the window, resting one hand against -the casement; then he sprang forward, crying, -“Dick!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Right on that Strangwayes flung himself forward -half out at the casement, and shouted, “Into -the saddle and off with you, off with you!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XVIII <br /> <span class='small'>THE CALL OUT OF KINGSFORD</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Just inside the door of the inn was a steep -flight of steps; Hugh tripped over the first, but, -almost ere his outstretched hand touched the -floor, was on his feet again and rushing up the -stairway. As he ran he pulled his sword clear -from the scabbard; if matters were so ill Dick -wished him thence, he would have need of it. -But in the corridor above-stairs all was quiet, he -noted in the instant in which he paused, holding -his breath, and gazed at the closed doors along -the gallery. “Dick!” he called again, so there -came a little echo from the end of the corridor. -Then he ran headlong for the nearest door, and, -dashing it open with his foot, flung himself well -into the centre of the chamber. By his very impetus -he thrust out of his way a man in a blue -livery coat, and, clearing free passage thus, pushed -up to the wall and set his back against it. There -were three blue-coated serving men in the room, -he perceived now, and a gross, short-necked man -in a fine riding-suit, who was deliberately bolting -the entrance door. Then his eyes rested on -Dick, who, seated well away from the window, -was leaning back indolently in his chair and -tugging at his mustache; only Dick’s white face -<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>was tense, Hugh saw, and he noted, too, that his -friend wore no sword.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was the short-necked man who broke the -instant’s expectant hush: “Master Hugh Gwyeth, -the tall swordsman? On my soul, I be rejoiced -to meet with you. Put down that sword. You -are my prisoner.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What knaves are these, Dick?” cried Hugh, -with his sword-hand alert on the hilt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of the old Bellasis breed,” Strangwayes answered, -and let his hand fall from his mustache -with the merest gesture toward the open window, -and just a look which bade Hugh take his -chance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, we apprehend you for the foul murder -of my kinsman, Philip Bellasis,” spoke the man -by the door.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is that all?” Hugh asked, with a sudden -nervous laugh of relief. He clapped his sword -back into the sheath and tore open his coat.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Seize his arms!” cried the short-necked man.</p> - -<p class='c007'>One of the serving fellows had sprung at him, -when Hugh, striving to throw him off, saw Dick -come to his feet at a jump and hit out. Somebody -bellowed with pain; he found his arm free, -and Dick’s shoulder pressing against his as they -stood to the wall. “Have done, have done!” -Hugh cried. “Read you there, Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He thrust the parchment into his friend’s hands, -and Dick, with a smothered exclamation, broke -the seals. An instant of silence came upon the -room, as if all had half guessed; only the rustle -of the parchment and the heavy movement of the -fallen serving man dragging himself to his feet -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>broke the quiet, till Strangwayes spoke with ominous -civility, “Will you deign, Master Bellasis, to -bestow one glance upon his Majesty’s seal and -signature?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ll not deceive me—” said the gross man -with much bluster, yet he came hastily, and, gazing -upon the paper, read with dropping jaw.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now have you any farther business with -me, Master Bellasis?” Strangwayes asked easily. -“Speak quickly, ere I go across the corridor to -sup with Master Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The other said something that was choked -with inarticulateness in his short throat.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am ordering my supper now,” Strangwayes -finished, as he went with much dignity to the -door; “and hark you, sir, I want my sword -brought back to me ere supper be on the table. -For I’ll be wishing to fetch it along with me -when next I come to seek you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he made Master Bellasis a very low bow, -and, catching Hugh by the arm, brought him out -into the corridor. Right across the way was a -vacant chamber, but almost before they were inside -the door Hugh’s arms were about Dick, and -Strangwayes, with his voice half smothered in -the roughness of the embrace, was jerking out: -“Heaven forgive Bellasis his other sins for the -good turn he did in bringing us together. But -’twould have been a sorry companionship, had -you not come so furnished.” Thereat he got -Hugh by the scruff of the neck and set him down -hard on the nearest stool. “Now, you thick-witted -rogue,” he ordered, “why in the name of -reason did you not call out to me from the inn -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>yard and say you had that piece of parchment -inside your coat? Here I sat a good half-hour -and schooled myself into seeing you laid by the -heels along with me. Faith, I’ll look to find -white hairs in my head to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laughed, because the world was so good -now he could do nothing else, then poured out -his story thick and fast,—Prince Rupert at -the “Bear and Ragged Staff,” and behind that -Newick, and Woodstead, and Ashcroft, all huddled -together. “Lord save us! We must have -food to help down such a lump,” cried Dick, and, -summoning the host thereupon, ordered supper -to be ready in quick time.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A drawer came speedily to fetch them candles, -and barely had he gone when one of the bluecoats, -bowing his way in, handed over to Strangwayes -his sword. Dick gave him money, and -bade him and his fellows go drink. “A pleasant -company I’ve been keeping, eh, Hugh?” he asked, -with a dry smile, as the man backed out. “How -came I by it? Alas, a man cannot always choose. -I was about my business at The Hague, like a -decent gentleman. And that fat calf, Herbert -Bellasis,—’tis a cousin to the whole scurvy connection,—he -was there on some mischief, and -recognized me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just there came supper, but across the table -Strangwayes drawled on: “My friend Bellasis -feared a young man like myself might come to -harm in foreign parts. So he fetched me home.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Fetched you, Dick?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very simply. He and his bluecoats met me -of a dark night in a byway. He was urgent, but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>I refused his invitations. Then they picked me -up and conveyed me aboard an English ship.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t believe they could,” Hugh said bluntly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To be sure, they had knocked the senses out -of me, else I had not come so meekly. ’Twas -there I got this souse in the head; ’tis near healed -now. But there were four bluecoats once; one -of them is still at The Hague, cherishing a punctured -lung; I gave it to him. We had a merry -passage over, Hugh; Bellasis and I must share -the cabin and eat together. He used to tell me -over the wine—’twas ship’s beer and flat at -that—how I ought to be hanged, and he hoped -to live to see it done. And I used to compliment -him on his mad dare-devil courage. For if at -five and thirty he durst attack a single man when -he had only four to back him, no doubt at seventy -he would dare come on with only two to aid. Nay, -if he lived long enough, he might yet arrive at -fighting man to man. Methinks the length of -years he had to wait discouraged him, by the vile -temper that put him in. Every pleasure has an -end, so at last we made the Welsh coast and -posted hither, in the very nick of time, it seems. -For, Hugh, after this last exploit of yours, I’d be -loath to leave you fending for yourself. Man -alive, where do you think you’d be lying now, if -you hadn’t chanced to take the Prince’s fancy?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh answered submissively that he didn’t -know.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Neither do I,” Strangwayes retorted grimly. -“Nay, nay, don’t look conscience-stricken now, -for you found the one good chance in a hundred, -and it has all come well. But ’tis a blessing for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>us that his Highness delights to fly about noisily -in disguise, instead of plodding soberly about his -business. It has been more of a blessing to us, -perhaps, than to the kingdom.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You shall not speak slurringly of Prince -Rupert in my presence!” Hugh flared up.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes said, with a laugh, that he would -make honorable amends by drinking his Highness’s -health, on his knees, if Hugh desired; so -they ended amicably by drinking the health together -as they stood by their chairs, then religiously -smashed their glasses, and went away to -bed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The early sunrise roused them up to repeat -and re-repeat all that had befallen in the months -of their separation, a subject which lasted them -through breakfast till they quitted the table and -went down to the inn yard. “Why, Herbert -Bellasis has taken himself and his people hence,” -Hugh cried, after one glance into the vacant -stable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I respect wisdom in any man,” Strangwayes -commented, as he loitered at Hugh’s side in -among the stalls. “You say the Prince said something -to you about not fighting any more? Tut, -tut! ’Tis a pity.” There he broke off suddenly, -“Why, lad, how came old Bayard back to you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why should you ask?” Hugh replied wisely. -“If you don’t know, I don’t.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’d take it kindly if you’d talk reason,” Strangwayes -said pathetically. “What have I to do with -your horse? I don’t know even who bought the -beast, or whither he was taken from Oxford.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh whistled a stave. “It must ha’ been the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>same who sent me the two sovereign from Tamworth. -Maybe ’twas Sir William, or perhaps -Captain Turner.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Or perhaps Captain Gwyeth,” Dick said, after -an instant.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh stared blankly a moment, then stamped -his foot down on the stable floor. “I won’t -believe it,” he cried fiercely. “I tell you, I’d fling -away the money and turn the horse loose, if I -believed it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Captain Gwyeth had a hand in that first -movement to gain your pardon,” Strangwayes -spoke impartially.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He was only Sir William’s instrument,” Hugh -insisted, and, without staying to caress the horse, -strode out of the stable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes followed in silence; indeed, that -instant’s jar ended conversation between them till -they were back in their chamber, and Dick was -busied in writing the news of his whereabouts -and the outcome of the Bellasis affair to Sir -William. “What use?” urged Hugh, wearied of -gazing out of the window with no one to talk to. -“We’ll be at Tamworth soon.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not for a little time,” Strangwayes answered, -with his eyes intent on the sheet; “I’ve business -here at Oxford.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He did not tell his companion what the business -might be, but to all appearances it was furthered -by taking a room in Oxford, by dining -with various gentlemen and officers, and by devoting -some days to a happy and care-free time of -which Hugh enjoyed every moment. Not till the -morning succeeding the day on which the king -<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>left the city to take possession of Bristol did -Strangwayes make mention of the northward -journey; then he routed Hugh early from his -bed with the announcement that they would set -out at once. “But first we must eat a meal at -the ‘Sceptre,’” he concluded. “Fit yourself for the -road, Hugh, and gallop thither to order dinner. -If I’m not with you ere noon I’ll have been called -north by the other way, so do you post after -as fast as you can. Remember.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>An hour later Hugh was gayly riding out by -the western road, which he had last travelled with -such different feelings, and, coming in the mid-morning -to the “Sceptre,” ordered dinner grandly. -Afterward he loitered down to the bowling -green, now all short velvety grass, where he had -inveigled Martin, the friendly drawer, into giving -him a lesson in bowls, when Strangwayes hailed -him noisily from the doorway. “My business is -despatched,” he said smilingly, as Hugh came to -meet him. “After all, we’d best bribe Martin here -to eat the dinner for us. We must be off.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They went out from the “Sceptre” at a rattling -pace, but the first hill slackened their speed so -conversation was possible. Then Strangwayes -drawled pleasantly, “I’ve no wish to deceive you -into any danger, Hugh, so you should know I -have just fought with Herbert Bellasis.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dick!” Hugh cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was most circumspect,” Strangwayes apologized. -“I waited till the king was well away, so -I might not do it in the very teeth of him. And -I did not hurt the fat lump, though I’d fain have -done so. I only knocked the sword out of his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>fist, and then the poor knave was very ready to -kneel down and crave my pardon, and swear never -so to abuse a gentleman again. Don’t put on your -Puritan face, Hughie. The fellow had so treated -me I could do nothing else.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why did you not let me come to the field -with you?” Hugh protested. “I take it most unkindly -of you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was not going to let my folly spoil your new -fortunes,” Strangwayes answered. “I think ’twas -done so quietly ’twill all blow over, since we have -got away to Tamworth. But if not, no charge -can come against you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why will you always be sparing me as if I -were a child?” Hugh cried, with an angry break -in his voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because some ways you are still just a long-legged, -innocent bairn,” Dick replied, with a -chuckle, whereat Hugh tried to sulk, but that was -impossible with Dick talking fast of their comrades -at Tamworth. In the end he must talk, too, and -laugh with Dick, till he forgot the hurt to his -dignity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>By hard riding they contrived before moonrise to -reach Ashcroft and rouse up the Widow Flemyng. -She fair hugged Hugh, and said of course she knew -he’d get his pardon; then fell to cooking their -supper, while she talked loudly and contentedly -to either of them or both. Next morning they set -out in dubious weather, and, going a short stage -out of their direct road, passed that night with -Butler and his officers, who made much of Strangwayes, -though they looked askance at Hugh, and -were half loath to forgive him for not getting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>hanged as they had prophesied. Next evening -brought them to Sir William Pleydall’s great house -in Worcestershire, where his widowed daughter, -Mistress Cresswell, gave them a hearty welcome, -and, riding thence at sunrise, they came at last -unto Tamworth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was about four of the afternoon, hot and -moist with slow rain, when they rode across the -King’s Dyke down the narrow High Street of -the town. At the door of a tavern Hugh caught -sight of a trooper loitering, a shiftless fellow of -Turner’s company, but he longed to jump down -and have speech with the rascal. “Let us push -on briskly, Dick,” he begged, and so they went at a -swinging pace down the street and across the river, -where on its height Tamworth Castle towered -black against the gray sky. There was a shout -of greeting to the petty officer of the watch, a -scurrying of grooms in the paved south court of -the castle, and then the word of their coming -must have travelled at high speed, for barely had -they crossed to the main door of the keep when a -young officer ran out to meet them, and fell on -Strangwayes. “Have you forgot me, Lieutenant?” -he cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sure, no, Cornet Griffith,” Dick answered -heartily. “Your leg’s recovered?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A matter of a limp; it does well enough in -the saddle. I have back my commission under -Captain Turner now, so we’ll serve in the same -troop. Ay, your lieutenancy is waiting for you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Talking boisterously, they crossed the great -hall that was now a guardroom, and, passing into -one of the lesser rooms that served the officers, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>came upon Michael Turner. It pleased Hugh -more than he could show that the captain did not -scoff at him, but gave him a half-embrace, saying -kindly: “Faith, we’re glad to have you back, -Gwyeth.” Though next moment he had turned -away to talk with Strangwayes: “You’ve come -in time for work, Lieutenant. They’re drawing -all the men they can find westward unto Gloucester, -where they say there will be brisk doings. -Leveson’s and my troops are here in the castle; -Gwyeth’s has gone a-raiding into Warwickshire; -the others are all prancing into the west. We’re -a scant hundred to defend the whole town, so -we’ll gladly give you the pleasure of keeping the -watch to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes came away laughing, and under -Griffith’s guidance they went down a corridor to -a snug parlor, where they had the good fortune -to find Sir William, idle for the moment, and -unattended save by a single hound. The dog -made a dash to meet Dick, barking hilariously -the while, so Hugh could only see that the baronet -embraced his nephew warmly, and he stepped -back a little to leave them to themselves. But -Dick haled him forward, and Sir William spoke -to him with a gracious sort of welcome that made -Hugh stammer, when he tried to thank him for -the effort to secure his pardon. “Nonsense, nonsense,” -spoke Sir William; “we had no need to -seek it, sir. You have the wit or the good fortune -to be able to maintain yourself without our help. -Your father ought to be proud of you.” He -stopped there, then, as he turned again to Strangwayes, -added with a certain diffidence: “I pray -<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>you, Master Gwyeth, do not forget to go speak to -Francis; he has been in a fit of the sullens since -yesternight.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh left the room in some wonderment, and, -seizing upon a serving man, was speedily conducted -by a passageway, up a flight of stairs, and along -a gallery to a closed door. Hugh knocked, and, -getting no reply, knocked again, then tried the -door and found it bolted within. “Frank,” he -called, and began shaking the door. “Open to me. -’Tis Hugh Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was an instant’s pause, then a slow step -across the floor, and the grate of the bolt in the -socket. “Come in, hang you!” Frank’s voice -reached him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was a big cheerless tower chamber, Hugh -saw, with heavy scant furniture and windows high -from the floor that now gave little light. He -stood a moment, half expecting Frank to speak -or bid him be seated, but the boy slouched back -to the bed that stood in the farther corner, and, -without looking at him, flung himself down upon -it. “Why, what’s amiss?” Hugh broke out, -and went to him; now he came nearer he saw -Frank had been crying much.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing,” the boy answered, and kept his face -bent down as if he were ashamed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me,” Hugh urged, “you’ll feel the better -for it. Is it anything because of Griffith?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, it’s that,” Frank cried, raising his head -defiantly. “They have taken away my cornetcy, -Hugh. ’Tis all along of Michael Turner. And -I never harmed him; I had done my best. But -he comes to my father; he says he must have a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>man for his troop. So my father turns his anger -on me; he said I was a selfish, heedless child, -where ’twas time I bore me as a young man. And -then Ned Griffith comes back all cured, and they -stripped me of my cornetcy to give it to him.” -Frank dropped down with his face buried in the -pillow. “I pray you, go away,” he choked; and, -in the next breath, “Nay, come back, Hugh; -you’ve always been my friend.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh sat down obediently by the bed, scarcely -knowing what to say, when Frank with his face -still hidden suddenly broke out, “Hugh, did you -look to have that cornetcy last winter?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh hesitated: “Yes, I did hope. But I had -no reason, ’twas no fault of yours.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My faith, I had not taken it of you, had I -known. I’d not have used a man as Ned has -used me, as they all have used me. I have been -playing the fool, and they all have been scoffing -at me, and I did not know it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sure, you must not take it so grievously, -Frank,” Hugh urged. “Get up and wash your -face and show you care not. You’ll have another -commission soon, when they see you are -in earnest.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Between coaxing and encouraging he got Frank -to his feet at last, and even persuaded him to eat -supper, which he ventured to order sent to the -chamber. Throughout Hugh did his best to talk -to the boy of any and all matters that had befallen -him, till he roused him to a certain dull interest. -“So you’ve had back your horse all safe?” Frank -asked listlessly. “’Twas I procured Captain Gwyeth -the name of the place where you were hiding. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>He bought the horse when ’twas sold at Oxford, -and he wished you to have it, that time when he -was working for your pardon. Yes, I know your -father well; he is always kind to me, and does -not mock me as the others have been doing. I -used to tell him all about you, and then he asked -me find where you were lodging. I had influence -with my father then, so I could learn it,” he added -bitterly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>All thought of comforting Frank had left Hugh; -he tried to listen with sympathy to his piteous -complaints, but it was useless; so he rose, and, -bidding him as cheery a good night as possible, -and promising to come back in the morning, went -out from the chamber. At the end of the gallery -was a deep window-seat, where he sat down and -stared out at the roofs of the town that huddled -gray in the twilight, so intent on his own thoughts -that he started when Dick touched his shoulder. -“How did you leave the poor popinjay?” Strangwayes -asked, with a trace of a laugh in his voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Better, I think,” Hugh replied.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Poor lad! Sir William might remember there -is a mean betwixt over-indulgence and severity. -But Frank has brought it on himself. When he -forgot to do his duty in the troop he would be -trying to cajole Captain Turner into good humor, -just as he has always cajoled Sir William. And -Michael Turner is not the man to coax that way. -He has influence with Sir William, too, and so—Well, -’twill be for Frank’s good in the end,” Dick -concluded philosophically, as he settled himself on -the window-bench.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh made room for him, then went on staring -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>at the gray sky. Suddenly he broke out, -“Dick, it was Captain Gwyeth sent me Bayard.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay?” the other answered, without surprise. -“And I have it of Sir William, he was main urger, -and drew him on to what seemed a hopeless attempt -to gain our pardon.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh scowled at his boots. “I take it I must -wait on him and tell him ‘thank you,’ when he -comes back out of Warwickshire. I wish he had -let me alone!” he cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You <em>are</em> like your father,” Strangwayes said -judicially, leaning back on the window-bench. -“See to it, Hugh, you do not make the resemblance -too complete.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How that?” Hugh asked guiltily.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“By giving way to your ugly pride, so you do -what it may take months of repentance to undo.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh made no answer, and the silence between -them lasted till the gallery was quite dark, -when, slipping off the window-seat, they tramped -away to their comrades below.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Next day Hugh gave himself up to Frank, -who, truth to tell, in his present half-subdued -state was pleasanter company than he had been -at Oxford. He persuaded Master Pleydall to -come out and view the town, which took them -till mid-afternoon; and then they loitered back -to the castle, with discreet turnings to avoid -meeting any of the other officers. Frank dodged -into a tavern to keep out of sight of Griffith, but -he dragged Hugh half a mile down a blind lane -to avoid a suspected encounter with Captain -Turner. “Mayhap I was impudent and forward, -so he got at last to ask my advice about conducting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>the troop, when others of the men were by. -And I thought he meant it all in sober earnest.” -Frank made a brave attempt at nonchalance, but -his lips quivered so Hugh had an improper desire -to chastise Michael Turner; for all his swagger -and affectation, Frank had been too innocent -and childish a lad to be scathed with the captain’s -pitiless sarcasms.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Luckily they had no more encounters with -men from the garrison till they were nearly at -the gate of the castle, and then it was only -Strangwayes, riding forth in full armor, with -some twenty men behind him, to post the watch -about the town for the evening hours. Hugh -made him a formal salute, which Dick returned -gayly before he rode on.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dick is right fond of you,” Frank said, with -a shade of envy; and after that they sauntered -in a moody silence, till, the sight of the stables -cheering Frank a bit, he prayed Hugh come in -and look at The Jade. “I’ve not seen the old -lass since day before yesterday,” he explained.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were still lingering to admire the mare, -when two grooms came hurrying a lathered horse -into the stable. “Who’s been riding so hard?” -Hugh asked carelessly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Messenger from the troop to the south, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To the south?” Hugh repeated. “Come -quickly, Frank, I must see—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He walked rapidly across the courtyard to -the door of the guardroom. About it men were -crowded, and more were pressing into the room -itself; but at Hugh’s jostling they made him a -way into the thick of them. Over on a bench -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>in the corner he had sight of a man with the -sleeve cut from his coat, who sat leaning heavily -against a comrade. Another, whom Hugh recognized -as the surgeon of the regiment, was washing -a wound in his arm, and as he moved, Hugh got -a glimpse of the face of the injured man. -“Cowper!” he cried, and ran forward, for he -knew the fellow for one of Captain Gwyeth’s -old independent troop.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Men gave him place; he heard a mutter amongst -them, “The captain’s son,” but he did not heed; -just pushed his way to the wounded man, and -bent over him: “Cowper, what has happened? -Is anything wrong with my father? Tell me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They closed in on us, sir,” the man roused -up to speak. “Captain Oldesworth’s horse, and -a company of foot beside. They took our horses -and they slew Cornet Foster. I came through -for help. They have the colonel blocked up in -Kingsford church.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XIX <br /> <span class='small'>THE RIDING OF ARROW WATER</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>For a moment the faces of the men about him -went all blurry to Hugh’s sight; then he was making -his way fumblingly across the guardroom, and, -thrusting out one arm before him, found the door -to the inner part of the castle. Now that he was -hurrying at a surer pace down the corridor within, -he realized that his breath was coming in short -gasps and he was shaking with a nervous tremor. -Kingsford, Kingsford, the word kept singing -through his head; the Oldesworths, who had so -hated Alan Gwyeth, held him at their mercy now -at Kingsford. Only to Hugh it was no longer -Alan Gwyeth, but his father, the father whom his -mother had taught him to respect, who had tried -to win him a pardon. And he had begrudged -the man even a grateful thought.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh dashed open the door of his chamber, -and, kicking off his shoes, began tugging on his -boots. He heard a step behind him, as he struggled -with his head bent; then came Frank’s voice: -“Hugh, you’ve heard? They have cut him off; -he has cried for help; my father is taking counsel -with the captains—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Counsel?” cried Hugh, springing to his feet. -“Why don’t they send him aid?” He tore his -buff coat down from the wall.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>“Faith, ’tis a question if there is aid to send,” -Frank cried, in equal excitement, as he made a -hindering effort to help Hugh into the coat; -“they have taken away so many of our regiment; -we are scant a hundred men all told; they say -’tis doubtful if we can send—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then I’ll go to Kingsford alone. Run bid -them saddle Bayard, Frank, quick.” With that -Hugh caught up his sword, and, going full speed -out of the chamber, drowned in the clatter of -his boots the protests Frank sent after him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Below, in the tower room that served for conferences, -Sir William would be with his officers, -and he hoped there to learn farther news. Almost -at the door he ran upon a man from Turner’s -troop, all accoutred, who drew back and saluted -him. “What seek you? Know you what they -are planning?” Hugh asked excitedly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, sir; only I was bid have my horse ready, -and stand at their service.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh could guess the service. Pushing by the -trooper to the door of the chamber, he knocked -a rattling, peremptory knock, and another right -upon it. At that the door was wrenched open, -and Leveson, grim and dignified, had begun, -“What brings you, sirrah?” when Turner’s voice -interrupted: “Hugh Gwyeth, is it? Let him -come in.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that Hugh had a confused sight of the -high-studded room, with the sunlight far up on -the walls and the corners dusky, and of the men -by the table, who had faced toward him. Then -he found himself over by Sir William’s armchair, -his hand resting hard upon the table, and he was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>speaking rapidly: “I am going to Kingsford, Sir -William, to my father. If you are seeking a messenger -for anything, I’ll bear it safely. For I am -going straightway.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, I shall not suffer it, Hugh Gwyeth,” the -baronet cut him short. “Do you understand? -The roads are close beset; the trooper who -brought us the tidings was shot in the arm and -the side.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I know the Kingsford roads. I can make -it,” Hugh protested, and looked from one to another -of the three dubious faces. “Sure, you’ll -let me go,” he burst out. “I must. If he be—harmed -and I not there. I must go.” His eyes -dropped to his hands that were clinching his hat -fast, and rested there; he dared not glance again -at those about him lest he find refusal in their -looks, and he hoped they might not be gazing at -him, for he knew his mouth was working.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then Turners voice sounded quick and decided: -“Let him go, Sir William.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, he is a light rider and he knows the -roads. A good messenger, after all,” Leveson -added in a matter-of-fact tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh looked up hopefully and saw a glance -exchanged between Sir William and his captains -that meant his case was won. “We’ll not endanger -you with a written message,” the baronet spoke -at once; “for I tell you frankly, sir, you run a -hundred chances of capture. If you do contrive -to bring yourself through the rebel lines, bid Captain -Gwyeth from me to hold out but two days, -till Saturday, and he shall have help. ’Tis so you -have determined, gentlemen?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>“If the Lord aid us, we can recall enough -troops to make the town good and ride for the -rescue by then,” Turner answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s all your message, Gwyeth,” Sir William -resumed; “and remember, if the rebels knew the -time when relief could be looked for, ’twould aid -them mightily, so if you be taken—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll not be taken, sir, I do assure you,” cried -Hugh, with his hand on the latch of the door; -“I’ll come through safe to Kingsford.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Heaven grant it!” the other said, with a trace -of a smile, and then soberly, “I can warn you, the -captain will be glad at heart to see you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Turner said something kindly, too, Hugh remembered -afterward, but for the present it was -just people speaking and wishing him God speed, -and he was glad when he clapped on his hat outside -the door and could run for his horse.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Outside, the whole castle seemed emptied into -the south court; Leveson’s and Turner’s men, -some in coats and more in shirt-sleeves, who -shouted questions and the tidings back and forth, -and swore and scuffled at the jostlings of the -crowd. The sun was down, but the early twilight -still was clear between the gray walls, -enough to bring out every detail of the swarming -courtyard, and to enable Hugh to distinguish -the faces of the men. Down in the thick of the -throng he caught sight of Frank, with a groom -holding The Jade, and he ran down from the -doorway to him. At that, some of the men set -up a cheering, under cover of which Frank, putting -his arm round Hugh’s shoulders, said in a -low tone: “I want you to take the mare, Hugh; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>she’s faster than Bayard, and she’s not been used -these two days; and I did not know it was your -cornetcy I was taking, and I want you to ride her. -Into the saddle with you!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Without wit or time to reply, Hugh found himself -on the mare’s back, felt her quiver beneath -him, and had opened his mouth to bid the groom -let go her head, when the shouting swarm between -him and the great gateway was suddenly -cleft apart. Up the lane Black Boy came swinging -with Strangwayes pulling taut on the bridle -so he eased up at Hugh’s side. “Get you down,” -Dick cried without question, and, springing to -the ground himself, began tearing off his -cuirass.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What will you have? Be brisk,” Hugh -shouted, coming out of his saddle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Strangwayes flung his cuirass about him, and -began very deliberately taking in the straps to -fit Hugh’s body. “Did you think you were going -on a pleasure ride?” he asked. Frank burst into -a nervous laugh, which others caught up, and -some began cheering for the lieutenant. Hugh -heard The Jade prancing with impatience at the -sound, and he himself fairly squirmed under -Dick’s touch. “Let me be off!” he cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ve all night before you,” Strangwayes -drawled. “Hold up your arm so I can get at -the strap.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then, through the clatter of The Jade’s -restless hoofs and the hum of the eager crowd -about him, Hugh heard his name called. Looking -over his shoulder he saw Cowper, with his -face the color of ashes, limp up between two comrades. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>“They said ’twas you should go to Kingsford, -sir,” the man addressed him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m to venture it,” Hugh answered. “How -left you matters there, Cowper?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The captain has the church and the graveyard, -sir. The rebels hold the village and the -bridge over the Arrow. I got across two mile -up at the Blackwater ford. The river ran high, -and they had set no guard. ’Twas breaking -through the village they shot at me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Go tend your hurt now,” Hugh found thought -to urge. “I’ll remember the ford, be sure. Are -you done now, Dick?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Done with that,” replied Strangwayes. “Are -your pistols in order? And the word for the -night is ‘Gloucester’; you’ll need it at the gates.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, yes,” Hugh cried, and made a dash for -The Jade, who, dragging her groom at her head, -had fretted herself a good ten feet away. A -trooper jumped forward and caught her bit to -stay her; but it was Dick, Hugh remembered, -who held the stirrup so he could swing himself -easily into the saddle. “God speed!” he heard -Strangwayes say in the instant that followed. -“We’ll be at your heels soon. God speed!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>That was all the farewell between them; for -the men stood back from The Jade’s head, and, -with a shrill squeal, she darted forward across the -court. Hugh heard the click of her hoofs on the -cobblestones, then lost the sound in the cheer -upon cheer that broke from those about him. -His arms ached with the tense grip he was holding -on the bridle, and then he found the mare -had the bit in her teeth. “Go, if you will,” he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>cried, letting the reins looser. The shadow of -the gateway fell upon him; he saw the flicker of -the torch beneath it and the white faces of the -men on guard. Then he had jammed his hat on -hard, and, bending his head, was striving to hold -The Jade straight as she tore down the slope and -sped through the town.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Houses and shops rushed by; he heard a -woman shriek abuse after him for his mad riding; -the crash of opening casements, as the townsfolk -leaned out to see him pass; once, too, his -heart gave a jump as a boy, like a black streak, -shot across the road just clear of The Jade’s nose. -Then the bulk of the town gate blocked his way; -he saw the sentinels spring forth to stay him, -and, contriving to check the mare an instant, he -leaned from the saddle to say “Gloucester” to -the corporal in charge.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pass free,” came the word; the men stood -from his path, and, giving loose rein to The Jade, -he flew by them out into the twilight stretch of -open country road.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a time it was just breathless riding, with -his full weight on the reins to slacken the mare’s -speed; for the road was all ruts, and he feared for -her slender legs. The mud spattered up even -into his eyes, and once, at a dip in the road, he -felt his mount make a half-slip in the mire, which -sobered her somewhat, so he could ease her down -to a slow, careful trot that promised to carry him -well through the night. Now he was first able -to look about at the broad, dusky fields and back -over his shoulder, where Tamworth town and -castle were merged into the night. The first exhilaration -<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>of the setting forth went from him in -the stillness and dark; it was steady, grim work -he had before him, yet he felt assured he would -come safely into Kingsford, and, spite of the gravity -of it all, he found himself smiling a little at the way -in which, at last, he was going to his father. He -wondered perplexedly how he should greet Captain -Gwyeth, and how phrase his message; a -formal tone would perhaps be best till he was -sure of his welcome. But Sir William had said -his father would be glad at his coming; at that -thought Hugh pricked on The Jade a little faster.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Once clear of the first village beyond Tamworth -he entered a stretch of woodland, where the black -tips of the trees showed vivid against the starless -gray sky. Below, the undergrowth was all dense -darkness and Hugh thought it well to keep a -hand on his pistol, for he was drawing into Puritan -country where a Cavalier was fair game for an -ambuscade. Out beyond he trotted again through -fields, only blacker and lonelier now than those -by Tamworth. Such cottages as he passed were -silent and dark; at one farmstead he heard a dog -howl, and once, in a tangled hollow, a bat whizzed -by his head, but he saw or heard no other living -thing. Though once, as he gazed across the -fields on his left, he made out in the distance a -gleam of light; a farm must lie yonder, and he -pictured to himself the low cottage chamber, where -the goodwife would be watching with a restless -child. Such shelter and companionship was betokened -by the light that he turned in the saddle -to gaze at it till a clump of trees shut it from him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It must have been something after midnight, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>though under that starless sky he could not tell -the time surely, when he clattered into a considerable -town. An officious watchman with a bobbing -torch ran from a byway, calling on him to -stand, so Hugh clapped spurs to The Jade and -shot through the street at such a pace that the next -watchman could only get out of his course without -trying to stay him. But after that he grew -wary and, when the outlying houses of the next -town came out of the black, turned off into the -fields and picked his way about it. The round-about -course saved him from interference, but it -took much time; by a dull, unbraced feeling, that -was not sleepiness nor yet quite weariness alone, -he knew he had been many hours in the saddle, -and he began to look to the east, in dread lest he -catch the first signs of daybreak.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently he must give his whole attention to -The Jade, for they spattered into a ford where the -going was treacherous. While she halted to drink -he gazed about at the bushes and the field before -him, and, spite of the dark, knew the place. It -was home country he was drawing toward now, -so he trotted on slowly, with his senses alert and -his eyes peering into the dusk for the landmarks -that should guide him. So it was that at last on -his right hand he caught sight of a big leafless -oak, beneath which he pulled up short. True -enough, he remembered the way in which the -tree stood up bare and alone with scragged common -at its back; he could not see well for the -dark, but he knew that at the farther edge of -the open land was a belt of young oaks that hid -the ford of Blackwater.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>He lingered beneath the blasted oak, time -enough to look to his pistols, and time enough, -too, for him to recall the ghostly reputation of -the lonely tree, so his nerves were crisping as -he rode by it into the common. But he quieted -The Jade’s fretty step, and, in the action and the -thought of what might be before him, steadied -himself till, though his body was trembling with -eagerness, his head was cool. He took the precaution -of making the mare keep a slow trot that -was half muffled in the turf, though he urged her -as much as he dared on the uneven ground; for -to the east, as he looked over his shoulder, the -dark was beginning to pale. The early summer -morning must be near at hand, for when he had -crossed the open there was light enough for him -to make out the break in the trees where the -bridle path wound down to the ford.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh went in cautiously, with the reins taut -in his left hand and his right on his pistol; but -for all that The Jade’s feet splashed in the sloughs -of the pathway with a loudness that startled him. -He pulled up a moment and listened; ahead he -could hear the lap, lap of swift water, but for -the rest the wood was silent. He was about to -press the mare forward with a touch of the spur, -when, flinging up her head, she whickered shrilly. -Right upon that, somewhere to the front by the -water’s edge, a horse neighed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Next moment Hugh felt the lash of low boughs -across his neck, as he pulled The Jade round -with her haunches in among the bushes by the -path. Spite of the crash of the branches, and the -pounding of the blood in his temples that near -<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>deafened him, he caught the sound of hoof-beats -on his left, coming down on him from the common -as well as up from the river. At that he -urged The Jade forward, straight into the bushes -at the other side of the path, where the limbs -grew so low that he bent down with his bare head -pressed against her mane. For all the hurry and -tumult, his ears were alert, and presently he heard -their horses crashing behind him among the trees -at the right. Then, cautiously as he could pick -his way in the gray dimness, he turned The Jade’s -head to the common. Brushing out through the -last of the oaks he faced southward, and, as he -did so, cast a glance behind him. Out of the -shadows of the trees in his rear he saw the dim -form of a horseman take shape, and a command, -loud in the hush of morning, reached him: “Halt, -there!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laid the spurs to The Jade’s sides and, -as she ran, instinctively bent himself forward. -Behind him he heard a shot, then the patter of -many hoofs upon the turf, and a second shot. -Right upon it he felt a dull shock above the -shoulder blade; the ball must have rebounded -from his cuirass. After that he was in among -the trees once more; through the wood behind -him men were crashing and shouting; and even -such scant shelter as the oaks gave was ending, -as they grew sparser and sparser, till he dashed -into an open stretch that sloped to the Arrow. -To the front he had a dizzy sight of more horsemen -straggling from cover; there were two patrols -closing in on him, he realized, and with that, jerking -the mare to the right, he headed for the river.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>Before him he could see the slope of hillside, -the dark water under the bank beyond, even the -dusky sedge of the low opposite shore. He saw, -too, a horseman, bursting out from the trees, halt -across his path, but he neither stayed nor swerved, -just drove the spurs into The Jade and braced -himself for the shock. He must have struck the -other horse on the chest; he had an instant’s -sight of a trooper’s tense face and a horse’s sleek -shoulders, then only black water was before him -and men behind him were shouting to pull up. -There came a sickening sense of being hurled -from the earth; a great splashing noise and spray -in his face. After that was a time of struggling -to free his feet from the stirrups, to clear himself -from the frightened mare; all this with water -choking and strangling him and filling his ears -and beating down his head. He had no thought -nor hope nor conscious plan of action, only with -all the strength of his body he battled clear till -he found himself in mid-stream, with the current -tugging at his legs, and his boots and cuirass -dragging him down. Once his head went under, -and he rose gasping to a dizzy sight of gray sky. -He struck out despairingly while he tried in vain -to kick free from his boots. The current was -twisting and tossing him helplessly; he turned -on his back a moment, and still the sky was rushing -past above him and whirling as it went. -Above the din of the water he heard faint shouts -of men and crack of musket-shot. A base end -for a soldier, to drown like a rat! he reflected, -and at the thought struck out blindly. The -water swept him down-stream, but he fought his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>way obliquely shoreward till of a sudden he found -the tug of the current had abated. He could -rest an instant and look to his bearings; quite -near him lay the shore, a dark sweep of field with -a hedge that ran down to the water, and on the -farther side the hedge he saw horsemen following -down the stream.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh struck out with renewed strength, till, -finding the bottom beneath his feet at last, he -splashed shoreward on the run, and, stumbling -through the sedge and mire of the margin, panted -upward into the field. Off to the left were the -roofs of Kingsford, so far the current had swept -him, but near at hand there was no hiding-place, -nor even a tree to set his back against, and, with -his boots heavy with water and his breath exhausted -with the past struggle, he had no hope -to run. He halted where he was, in the midst -of the bare field, and pulled out his sword, just as -the foremost horseman cleared the hedge at a -leap. It was not so dark but Hugh recognized -the square young figure, even before the man -charged right upon him. “Good morrow, Cousin -Peregrine,” he cried out, and dodged aside so the -horse might not trample him. “Get down and -fight.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>As he spoke he made a cut at the horse’s flank; -then Peregrine, crying out his name, sprang down -and faced him. They were blade to blade at -last, and at the first blow the older lad flinched, -stumbling back in the long grass of the field, and -Hugh, with eyes on his set, angry face, pressed -after him. Horses were galloping nearer and -nearer, men calling louder, but Hugh did not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>heed; for Peregrine, mistaking a feint he made, -laid himself open, and he lunged forward at -him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then his sword-arm was caught and held fast, -and he was flung backward into the grasp of -a couple of troopers. The man who had first -seized him, a grim corporal in a yellow sash, -wrenched the sword out of his hand, and he -heard him speak to Peregrine: “Has the knave -done you hurt, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh pulled himself together, though his -whole body was still a-quiver with the action of -the last moments, and looked about him. Yellow-sashed -troopers surrounded him, six or seven, -he judged, and a few paces distant stood Peregrine, -with his hand pressed to his right forearm. -“He slashed me in the wrist,” young Oldesworth -broke out; “I tripped, else he had not done it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You had not tripped if you had stood your -ground,” Hugh flung back, with an involuntary -effort to loosen his arms from the grasp of those -who had seized him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hold your tongue, you cur!” snapped Peregrine, -and might have said more, had there not -come from across the river a prolonged hail. -One ran down to the brink to catch the words; -but Hugh had no chance to listen, for at Peregrine’s -curt order he was hustled upon one of the -troop horses. They tied his hands behind him, -too; whereat Hugh set his teeth and scowled in -silence. What would Peregrine do with him before -he were done, he was wondering dumbly, -when the man from the river came up with the -report that the captain bade to convey the prisoner -<span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>to Everscombe, and see to it that he did -not escape. “I’ll see to it,” Peregrine said -grimly, and got to his saddle, awkwardly, because -of his wounded arm, that was already staining a -rough bandage red.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The morning was breaking grayly as the little -squad turned westward through the fields, and by -a hollow to the Kingsford road. As they descended -into the highway, Hugh faced a little -about in his saddle, and gazed down it toward -the village; a rise in the land shut the spot from -sight, but he knew that yonder Captain Gwyeth -lay, awaiting the message that he was not to -bring. The trooper who rode at his stirrup took -him roughly by the shoulder then, and made him -face round to the front. “You don’t go to Kingsford -to-day, sir,” he jeered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh had not spirit even to look at the fellow, -but fixed his eyes on the pommel of the saddle. -Trees and road he had known slipped by, he was -aware; he heard the horses stamp upon the -roadway; and he felt his wet clothes press against -his body, and felt the strap about his wrists cut -into the flesh. But nothing of all that mattered -as his numbed wits came to the full realization -that this was the end of the boasting confidence -with which he had set forth, and the end of -his hope of meeting with his father. The last -fight would be fought without him, or even now -Captain Gwyeth, ignorant of the aid that should -hurry to him, might be putting himself into his -enemies’ hands. At that, Hugh tugged hopelessly -at the strap, and found a certain relief in -the fierce smarting of his chafed wrists.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>Like an echo of his thoughts Peregrine’s voice -came at his elbow: “So you were thinking to -reach Kingsford, were you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should not be riding here just for my pleasure,” -Hugh replied, with a piteous effort to force -a light tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Twould be as well for you if you were less -saucy,” his cousin said sternly. “You know me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know you carry one mark of my sword on -you,” Hugh answered, looking his tormentor in -the face, “and if you’d not let your troop come -aid you, you’d carry more.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a moment he expected Peregrine to strike -him; then the elder lad merely laughed exasperatingly. -“You’ll not talk so high by to-night,” -he said, “when you’re fetched out to see that -dog Gwyeth hanged up in Everscombe Park.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’d best catch him before you hang him,” -Hugh answered stoutly, though the heart within -him was heavy almost beyond endurance. What -might the Oldesworths not do if once they laid -hands on Captain Gwyeth? A prisoner of war -had no rights, Hugh was well aware, and so many -accidents could befall. He felt his face must -show something of his fear, and he dreaded lest -Peregrine goad him into farther speech, and his -words betray his wretchedness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But happily just there they turned in between -the stone pillars of Everscombe Park, and Peregrine -paced to the front of his squad. Hugh -listlessly watched the well-remembered trees and -turnings of the avenue, which were clear to see -now in the breaking dawn. The roofs of the -manor house showed in even outlines against -<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>the dull sky, all as he remembered it, only now -the lawn beneath the terrace was scarred with hoof-prints, -and over in the old west wing the door -was open, and a musketeer paced up and down -the flagstones before it. Heading thither, the -squad drew up before the entrance, and Hugh, -haled unceremoniously from the horse’s back, -was jostled into the large old hall of the west -wing, that seemed now a guardroom.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How do you like this for a home-coming, -cousin?” Peregrine asked, and Hugh looked him -in the eyes but answered nothing. His captor -laughed and turned to his troopers. “Search -him thoroughly now,” he ordered; “then hold him -securely till Captain Oldesworth comes.—And I -can tell you, sirrah,” he addressed Hugh once -more, “you’ll relish his conversation even less -than you relish mine.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XX <br /> <span class='small'>BENEATH THE ROOF OF EVERSCOMBE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>They had searched Hugh, thoroughly and with -more than necessary roughness, and now he was -permitted to drag on his dripping clothes again. -It was in a long, narrow room at the end of the -old hall, where the ceiling was high and dark and -the three tall windows set well up from the floor. -A year ago it had been a closed and disused -apartment, but now a couple of tables and some -stools were placed there; Hugh noted the furniture -in listless outer fashion as he sat wrestling -on his sodden boots. For once his captors had -taken their hands off him; one trooper was -guarding the door and another was pacing up -and down beneath the windows, but the corporal -and the third man stood within arm’s reach of -him. When Hugh rose to his feet the corporal -made a little movement, and he realized they -were all alert for his least suspicious action. -“My faith, I’m not like to get away from the four -of you,” Hugh broke out in a despairing sort of -sullenness. “’Tis only that I’d fain put on my -coat, unless you claim that along with my cuirass -and buff jacket.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>One bade him put on and be hanged, and -Hugh, having drawn on the wet garment, sat -<span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>down again on the stool by the table, too utterly -weary and hopeless to note more than that the -room was damp and the chill of his soaked clothes -was striking to his marrow. With a thought of -tramping some warmth into his body he rose -again, but the corporal sharply bade him sit down -quietly or be tied down. Hugh resumed his -place on the stool with his shoulders against the -edge of the table and one ankle resting on the -other knee; he would gladly have swung round -and rested his head upon the table, so worn-out -and faint he felt, only he knew if he did his captors -would think him childish and frightened.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Of a sudden he heard the sentinel at the door -advance a step and announce to the corporal: -“Captain Oldesworth has just come into the -guardroom, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>A queer tingling went through Hugh’s veins, -and upon it followed a sickening faintness. Bringing -both feet down to the ground, he faced about -with his clinched hand on the table and his eyes -fastened upon the door. He knew now why he -had not been able to think, those last moments, -why every humiliation had been scarcely heeded, -in the expectation of this that was before him. -He saw the corporal draw up stiff in salute, the -sentinel stand back from the door, and then, -clean-shaven, set-mouthed as ever, he saw Tom -Oldesworth stride in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It had been in Hugh’s mind to stand up to -meet his uncle, but at the last he dared not trust -his knees to such a test. For the moment the -old boyish fear of the elder man, whose raillery -had cut him, whose blows had made him flinch, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>came back on him, and he could only stare at -him dumbly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis not the place I had looked to find you, -nephew,” Oldesworth greeted him, in a tone that -though brusque was kindly enough. Only in the -hurriedness of his bearing and the eagerness in -his eyes Hugh read no friendly presage, so he -let his gaze fall to the table and studied the -grain of the wood, while he listened to the beating -of his heart that vibrated through all his -body.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Oldesworth spoke a word aside to the corporal, -and as the troopers drew to the farther end of the -room came and set himself down opposite Hugh. -“Now attend me, sir,” he began rapidly. “By -your trappings you seem to have learned something -of war; then you know how the case stands -with you now we have you fast. So I trust you -will not suffer any childish stubbornness to vex -me or harm you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh watched the man’s hard face with fascinated -eyes and lips half-opened, but found no -tongue to reply.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You were riding to Kingsford,” Oldesworth -continued, gazing at him fixedly. “You came -from Tamworth, whither a messenger was posted -yesterday. You brought an answering message. -What was it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh flung back his head. “If there be a -message, think you I’d be such a fool as to tell -it?” he cried, in a voice that was so firm it made -him glad. After all, he had no need to fear, for -this was only a man like the rest, and he was now -a man, too.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>“You brought a message from Sir William -Pleydall,” Oldesworth repeated, unmoved. “He -is going to send aid to this man, is he not? -Why, I can read that in your face, Hugh. Aid -is coming, then. Is it to-day? To-morrow? -Answer me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh met his uncle’s gaze fairly, with his head -held a little upward and his lips tight-set now. -There was nothing for him to say, but he knew -they fought the battle out betwixt them while -their glances met.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you’re stubborn, are you?” Oldesworth -said, rising to his feet. “You young fool! Do -you think you can set your will against mine?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think I will not tell what you ask,” Hugh -replied without a tremor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Oldesworth leaned a little forward with his fist -upon the table. “I have been waiting all my -manhood to take satisfaction from Alan Gwyeth,” -he said slowly. “Now the opportunity is given -me do you think I shall suffer a boy’s obstinacy -to hinder me? I will have that message. If -you’ll not yield it for the asking, why—Come, -come, speak. I’d be loath to hurt you, Hugh.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’d be loath to have you, sir,” Hugh replied -soberly, though his whole inclination was to -laugh; for now the worst had come he was -braced to meet it, and quite unafraid.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Captain Oldesworth’s jaws were set ominously -at that. “Corporal,” he ordered sharply, “send -a man to fetch rope and a piece of match.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With an involuntary start Hugh came to his -feet, for his mind had jumped back to something -Butler had once hinted,—that a length of burning -<span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>match tied between the fingers was the surest -way to make a dumb knave find his tongue.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis no laughing matter, you’ll perceive,” the -captain said, with a trace of satisfaction. “Now -you’ll tell?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh shook his head, not looking at his uncle -but with eyes upon the door. He saw it pushed -open, and then came in the trooper with a length -of rope in his hand, but Hugh scarcely heeded, -for behind him, with an eager step, walked Peregrine -Oldesworth. After that it did not need -the tramp of the men crossing from the other -end of the room to set every fibre of Hugh’s -body tense for the coming struggle. With a -quick movement he swung about to catch up -the stool he had just quitted; Oldesworth must -have stepped round the table behind him, for he -blocked his way now, and catching him by the -shoulders made him stand, for all Hugh’s effort -to wrench clear. “’Twill be no use fighting, my -lad,” he said, with something oddly like pity in his -face. “Do as I ask straightway. You’ve done -all a gentleman need do. Tell me now when -Pleydall is coming. Else you go into the hands -of Cornet Oldesworth and his squad here. And -Peregrine is keen for this work. But tell, and no -one shall lay hand on you, nor—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I care not if you kill me!” Hugh cried -hoarsely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have it your way, then!” Oldesworth retorted, -and, flinging him off, turned his back. -“Tie him up, lads,” he ordered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Some one griped his collar, Hugh felt; there -was a rip of cloth, and for a moment he had torn -<span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>himself free and struck out blindly at the mass of -them. They must have tripped him, for he felt -the floor beneath his shoulders; but he still had -hold on one of them, and he heard a shirt tear -beneath his hands. There came a dull pain between -his eyes, as if the bones of the forehead -were bursting outward, and he made a feeble -effort to strike up as he lay. Then the struggling -was over; he could not even kick, for one -that sat upon his legs; a man’s knee was grinding -down on his back, and his arms were forced -behind him. His face was pressed to the floor, -and he could see nothing for a blackness before -his eyes, but he heard Peregrines voice, cool -and well-satisfied: “He’ll be quiet enough now. -Here’s the rope.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Some one else had entered the room, Hugh -realized; a slow step, a pause, and then a stern -voice that rang loud: “Thomas Oldesworth! -Bid your ruffians take their hands from your -sister’s son.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Father!” the captain’s voice spoke, then after -an instant’s blank pause ran on: “You do not -understand, good sir. He—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will you stand arguing?” There came a -noise as of a staff’s being struck upon the floor. -“Do I command in this house, son Thomas, or -do you? You ruffianly knaves, up with you all!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They had left him free, Hugh found, and -dragging one arm up to his head he lay panting -desperately, without strength or heart to move. -“Help him to his feet,” the stern voice spoke -again. “Or have you done him serious hurt?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They lifted him up, with gentler handling than -<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>they had yet given him, and staggering a pace to -the table he leaned against it. He drew his hand -across his eyes unsteadily to rub away the black -spots that danced before them; he had a blurry -sight, then, of the troopers drawn back to the -windows, and of the captain and Peregrine, who -stood together with half-abashed faces, for in the -doorway, leaning on his staff, was Master Gilbert -Oldesworth. “Get you back to Kingsford -and fight out your fight with the scoundrel who -wronged your sister,” he spoke again. “At such -a time can you find no better task than to maltreat -a boy?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you would only pause to hear how matters -stand, sir,” the captain urged, with a visible effort -to maintain a respectful tone. “The lad holds -the information that shall make us masters of that -villain Gwyeth. If he will not speak, though he -were twenty times my nephew, I’ll—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If he were twenty times the meanest horseboy -in the king’s camp, he should not be put to -torture beneath my roof,” Master Oldesworth -answered grimly. “Come here to me, Hugh -Gwyeth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Wondering dully why all the strength had gone -out of his body, Hugh stumbled across the room -and pitched up against the wall beside his grandfather. -He noted now that his shirt was torn -open, and drawing his coat together he tried to -fasten it; his fingers shook unsteadily, and the -buttons were hard to find. He felt his grandfather’s -hand placed firmly on his shoulder. “I -think you have mishandled this gentleman enough -to satisfy you,” the old man spoke contemptuously. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>“Henceforth you will merely hold him as -a prisoner taken in honorable war. And I shall -myself be responsible for his custody.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My good father,” Captain Oldesworth broke -out, “I cannot suffer him to pass from my keeping. -My responsibility to the state—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will you school me, Thomas?” Master Oldesworth -cut him short. “I am neither bed-ridden -nor brain-sick that you should try to dictate to -me now. But I will advise you, sir, that there -are decencies to be observed even in war, and -there are those in authority would make you -to smart if ever they got knowledge of this you -purposed. Lift your hand against my grandson, -and this day’s work comes to their ears.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then the grasp on Hugh’s shoulder tightened, -and submissively he walked at his grandfathers -side out into the guardroom. Those loitering -there drew back to make way for them, he -judged by the sound of footsteps, but he had not -spirit even to look up. By the difference of the -oak planking of the floors he perceived they were -entering the passage that led to the main building, -when he felt a firmer grip close on his arm -and heard the voice of the Roundhead corporal: -“I crave your pardon, sir. The captain bade me -see the prisoner safely locked up.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No need,” Master Oldesworth spoke curtly, -and then addressed Hugh: “You will give me -your parole not to attempt an escape.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh looked up helplessly into his grandfather’s -stern face, and felt the grasp of the corporal -press upon his arm. His breath came hard -like a sob, but he managed to force out his answer: -<span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>“I cannot, sir, I cannot. You’d better -thrust me back into my uncle’s hands. I cannot -promise.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was trying to nerve himself to be dragged -back to the chamber behind the guardroom, but -though Master Oldesworth’s face grew harder, -he only said, “Bring him along after me,” and led -the way down the passage.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh followed unsteadily, glad of the grasp on -his arm that helped to keep him erect. They -had entered the east wing, he noted listlessly; -then he was trudging up the long staircase and -stumbling down the corridor. At the first window -recess he saw Master Oldesworth halt and -heard him speak less curtly: “I have indeed to -thank you, mistress.” Raising his eyes as he -passed, Hugh saw that by the window, with -hands wrung tight together, Lois Campion was -standing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Instinctively he tried to halt, but the grip on -his arm never relaxed, and he must come on at -his captor’s side, down to the end of the corridor. -There Master Oldesworth had flung open a door -into a tiny chamber, with one high, narrow slit of -a window, bare of furniture save for a couple of -chests and a broken chair, over which the dust -lay thick. “Since you will have no better lodging, -you shall stay here,” he said coldly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dragging his way in, Hugh flung himself down -on a chest with his head in his hands. “Could -you let me have a drink of water, sir?” he asked -faintly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Go to my chamber and fetch the flask of -Spanish wine, Lois,” Master Oldesworth bade, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>and Hugh heard the girl’s footsteps die away in -the corridor, then heard or heeded nothing, just -sat with his face hidden.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A touch on the shoulder roused him at last; he -took the glass of wine his grandfather offered him -and slowly drank it down. They were alone in -the room now, he noted as he drank, the door -was drawn to, and Lois was gone. He set down -the empty glass and leaned forward with his -elbows on his knees. “I thank you, sir, for this, -for all you have saved me from,” he said slowly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You might thank me for more, if you were -less self-willed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“’Tis not from self-will, sir, I did as I have -done, that I refused my parole,” Hugh broke out, -“’tis for my father. I cannot bind myself. I -must go to him. I—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No more words of that man,” Master Oldesworth -silenced him. “You shall never go to him -again. A year ago I dealt not wisely with you. -I gave you choice where you were too young to -choose. For all your folly there are parts in you -too good for me to suffer you destroy yourself. -Now where I let you walk at your will I shall see -to it that you keep the right path, by force, if you -drive me to it. For the present I shall hold -you in safe custody at Everscombe. Later, as -you conduct yourself, I shall determine what -course to take.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But my father!” Hugh cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Captain Oldesworth will deal with Alan -Gwyeth,” Master Oldesworth replied. “Do you -forget him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can never forget him, sir. Sure, I’d liefer -<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>be hanged with him than be saved apart from him -thus. I—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The door closed jarringly behind Master -Oldesworth, the key grated in the lock, and the -bolt was shot creakingly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a time Hugh sat staring stupidly at the -door of his prison, then, getting slowly to his feet, -he began dragging and shoving the chest beneath -the window. His hands were still unsteady and -he felt limp and weak, so again and again he must -pause to sit down. The little room was close and -hot; the perspiration prickled on the back of his -neck, and stung above his eyebrows. The movement -of the chest cleared a white space on the -gray floor, and the dust that rose thick sifted into -his mouth and nostrils till he was coughing painfully -with a miserable feeling that it needed but -little for the coughing to end in sobbing. He -hated himself for his weakness, and, gritting his -teeth, shoved the chest the more vigorously till at -last it was in position beneath the window. Lifting -the one chair upon it, he mounted up precariously; -the sill of the window came level with -his collar bone while the top grazed his forehead. -He stretched up his arms and measured the length -and breadth of the opening twice over, but he -knew it was quite hopeless; there was no getting -through that narrow window, and, had it been -possible, he must risk a sheer fall of two stories -to the flagged walk below. For a moment he -stood blinking out at the green branches of the -elms that swayed before his window, then he -dropped to the floor again and sat down on the -chest with his face in his hands.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>So he was still sitting, when the door was unlocked -and one of the serving men of the household -came in to fetch him dinner. Hugh looked -up, and, recognizing the fellow, would have spoken, -but the man only shook his head and backed out -hastily. Hugh noted that it was no trooper’s -rations they had sent him, but food from his -grandfathers table; still he had no heart to eat, -though he drank eagerly, till presently he reasoned -this was weak conduct, for he must keep up -strength if he were ever to come out of his captors’ -hands, so, drawing the plate to him, he resolutely -swallowed down a tolerable meal.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he set himself to watch the motes dance -in a sunbeam that ran well up toward the ceiling, -but presently it went out altogether. He leaned -back then on the chest where he sat, and perhaps -had lost himself a time in a numb, half-waking -sleep, when of a sudden he caught a distant sound -that brought him to his feet. He could not mistake -it; off to the east where Kingsford lay he -could hear the faint crack of musketry fired in -volleys. Hugh cried out something in a hoarse -voice he did not recognize; then he was wrenching -at the latch and hammering on the door with -his clinched hands, while he shrieked to them to -let him go. He saw the blood smearing out from -his knuckles, but he beat on against the unshaken -panels till the strength left him and he dropped -down on the floor. Still, as he lay, he could hear -the distant firing, and then he ground his face -down between his hands and cried as he had -never cried before with great sobs that seemed -to tear him.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>Afterward there came a long time when he had -not strength even to sob, when the slackening fire -meant nothing to him, and, lying motionless and -stupid, he realized only that the light was paling -in the chamber. The door was pushed open, and -mechanically he rolled a little out of the way of -it. The serving man he remembered came in -with supper, and at sight of him Hugh lifted up -his head and entreated brokenly: “Tell me, what -has happened? Have they taken my father? For -the love of Heaven, tell me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The man hesitated, then, as he passed to the -doorway, bent down and whispered: “They’ve -beat the Cavaliers into the church, sir, but they’ve -not taken the captain yet. Lord bless you, don’t -cry so, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For the sheer nervous relief had set Hugh choking -and sobbing again without pride or strength -enough left to hold himself in check. As the -darkness closed in, however, he grew a little -calmer, though sheer exhaustion more than inner -comfort held him quiet. His eyes were hot -and smarting, and his throat ached, so he crept -over to the chest where the food was placed, and -laying hands on a jug of water gulped down a good -deal and splashed some over his face. After that -he stretched himself again upon the floor, where -for pure weariness he dropped at length into a -heavy sleep.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He awoke in darkness, his blood tingling and -his pulses a-jump in a childish momentary fear at -the strangeness of the place and a something else -he could not define. He had recollected his -position and laid down his head again, with a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>little effort to place himself more comfortably -upon the floor, when there came a second time -the noise that must have wakened him,—a stealthy -faint click of the latch, as if the door were being -softly opened. Hugh sprang to his feet and set -his back to the wall, in the best position for defence, -if it were some enemy, if it were Captain -Oldesworth came seeking him. The door was -opening, he perceived, as his eyes grew accustomed -to the darkness. “Who is it?” he asked -in a guarded tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hush! ’Tis I, Lois.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh caught his breath in a gasp of relief. -“Lois, you’ve come to free me?” he whispered, -and, stepping softly to her, fumbled in the dark -and found her hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, yes. I was afraid for you. I told Master -Oldesworth that Peregrine was bragging how the -captain would serve you. He saved you that time. -But ’tis possible the captain will lay hands on you -again. I slipped into Master Oldesworth’s chamber -and took the key. I know ’tis wicked; I care -not. Pull off your boots and come away, quick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Noiselessly as he could, Hugh got his boots in -his hand and in his stockinged feet stole out of -the chamber. In the corridor it was all black and -still, just as it had been that other time when -he ran from Everscombe, only now Lois was with -him, and when the stairs creaked they pressed -close together. Then she went forward boldly, -and he, still half-blinded with sleep, was content -to follow the guidance of her hand. “In here,” -she whispered at length, and so led him into the -east parlor, where the great clock still ticked, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>solemn and unperturbed. “Go out at the window,” -Lois spoke softly; “I dare not open the door. -There are a few men in the house, but they lie -in the west wing and the stables. The bulk are -at Kingsford. Northward you will find the way -clear.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am not going northward,” Hugh answered, -as he warily pushed open the casement. “I go -to my father now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hugh!” The girl’s voice came in a frightened -gasp. “I had not released you— If you -come unto them at last— They wish it not— You -may be killed! You shall not do this -thing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Leaning from the casement Hugh dropped his -boots carefully where the dark showed an edge of -grass bordered the flagged walk; as he set himself -astride the window ledge he spoke: “’Tis -just the thing I shall do, Lois, and the only -thing. If you be sorry for what you did, call, if -you will, but I shall jump and run for it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I shall not call,” she answered. “Oh, I care -not who has the right and wrong of the war. I -cannot bear they should hurt you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was kneeling on the window-bench with -her face close to his; he suddenly bent forward -and kissed her. “God bless you for this, Lois,” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he swung himself over the window ledge, -and letting his weight come on his hands dropped -noiselessly to the walk below. He dragged on -his boots, and taking a cautious step across the -flagstones slid down the terrace to the lawn. -Once more he glanced back, not at Everscombe -<span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>manor house, but at the opened window of the -east parlor. It was too dark more than to distinguish -the outline of the casement, but he -knew that at the lattice Lois was still standing -to wish him God speed to his father.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span> - <h2 class='c017'>CHAPTER XXI <br /> <span class='small'>THE FATHERHOOD OF ALAN GWYETH</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>The sky was bluish black with heavy masses -of clouds, but through a rift in the west showed -a bright star, by which Hugh guessed roughly it -must be within two hours of dawn. Quickening -his pace to a run at that, he came into the shelter -of the park, where it was all black, and he went -forward blindly, with one arm thrust up to guard -his face. Now and again he had through the -tree-tops a distant sight of the sky, and by it took -his directions; but for the most part he stumbled -on haphazard, though at a brisk pace, for the -night was passing rapidly. When at length he -crushed his way through a thicket to the edge of -the brook that marked the bounds of the park, -the bright western star had sunk out of sight behind -the trees.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Beyond the brook he hurried through a tract -of woodland, where he bore to the southward to -keep clear of the Kingsford highway and a farmstead -that lay back from it. He came out in a -cornfield, where the blades felt damp against his -face as he forced a rustling passage through, and -after that climbed over a wall into the open fields. -There were no more houses to avoid before -he reached the village, so with less caution he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>pressed on at a good jog-trot. For the night was -waning, and Kingsford was still to come.</p> - -<p class='c007'>An ominous pale streak showed in the east before -him as he climbed the swell of land that cut -off sight of the village. Fearing lest his figure -show up too distinctly against the sky line, he -made for a clump of bushes at the summit, and -had just got within their shadow when he caught -the sound of hoof-beats. Dropping flat he dragged -himself in under the bushes, where, peering out -between the leaves, he saw the black bulk of a -horseman ride along the slope below him. A -little to Hugh’s left he pulled up and called to -another rider a challenge that reached the boy’s -ears quite clearly, then turned and came pacing -back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They had set a mounted guard about the town, -then; and with that Hugh told himself he must -slip past it and quickly, too, or the dawn would -be upon him. But first he waited for the horseman’s -return, to know what was the time between -his passing and repassing, and while he waited -he strained his eyes into the dark to get the lay -of the land. At the foot of the rising ground was -a hollow, he remembered, and across it, on the -higher land, stood an irregular line of three cottages, -beyond which ran a lane that led by the -side wall of the churchyard. Very likely troops -were lodged about the cottages now, perhaps even -more patrols in the hollow, but all he could see -was the black depths beneath him and the outline -of the nearest cottage. Then he heard the sound -of hoofs loud again, as once more the horseman -on guard rode by below. Hugh could make out -<span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>his form far too clearly; dawn was coming, and -he durst stay no longer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So soon as the man had turned and paced a rod -on his journey back, Hugh crawled from beneath -the bushes and, rolling noiselessly, creeping on -hands and knees, made his way down the hillside. -He remembered afterward the feel of the moist -grass in his hands, the look of the mottled dark -sky and the faint stars, and how at a distant hail -in the village he pressed flat on the cold ground. -But at last he crawled across a more level space -he judged the bridle path, and scrambled down -into the depth of the hollow, where a chilly mist -set him shivering. As he lay outstretched, resting -his weary arms a moment, he heard up above -him the horseman ride by.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Now that he was within the lines of the patrol -only caution and quickness were necessary. Still -on hands and knees, he dragged himself slowly -up the hillside, bearing ever to the south to get -behind the cottages, yet not daring to venture too -far, lest he come upon another line of guards. As -he approached the first cottage he rose half erect -and tried a short run, but the bark of a dog made -him drop flat in the grass, where he lay trembling. -Next instant, realizing that it was better -to push on, whatever befell, he sprang up and -made a dash to the cover of a hedge behind the -second cottage. For now the protection of the -night had nearly left him; he could see clearly -the lattices of the cottage, the whitish line of highway -beyond it, and others might see him as well. -But as he crept forward, keeping to the shelter of -the hedge, he looked up, and against the gray sky -<span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span>saw what gave him courage. Above the farther -cottage rose the church tower, and from it stood -up a staff on which fluttered a red flag with a -splotch of gold upon it; Captain Gwyeth and his -men still were holding out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With renewed hope Hugh worked his way -past the hedge to the shelter of an outbuilding, -not a rod from the lane that ran white beneath -the lich wall. He could see the church clearly -now, the scowling small windows, the close side -door, and the gravestones on the slope below. -There was little prospect of welcome, he was -reckoning anxiously, as he lay crouched against -the outbuilding, when suddenly he heard a cry: -“Stand, there!” Off to his right in the lane he -beheld a Roundhead sentinel halted with his -piece levelled.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Springing to his feet Hugh dashed across the -grass plot to the lane. On the left he heard -hoof-beats, then a cry: “Shoot him down!” A -bullet struck the sand at his feet; he heard men -running, and another shot. He heard, too, the -crunch of crisp weeds beneath his boots as he -crashed into the overgrown tangle beyond the -lane. He felt the rough stones on the top of -the wall, then he had flung himself clear across -it, and was struggling up the slope among the -graves. His boots were heavy and hampered -him, and his breath seemed gone. He looked -up to the dead windows of the church and tried -to cry: “King’s men! To the rescue!” but -what sound he could make was lost in the din -behind him. A bullet struck on a headstone just -to one side; then of a sudden came a numbing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>pain in his left arm. He staggered, stumbled -blindly a pace; then the sky was rolled up like a -gray scroll, the stars were dancing before his -eyes, and he was down flat upon the ground. -Lifting his head dizzily he had a dim sight of the -lane below, men swarming from the cottages, and -one he saw leap the wall and come running -toward him. Hugh’s head dropped back on the -ground; he saw the sky pale above and waited -for the butt of his pursuer’s musket to crash down -upon him, and prayed it might not be long to -wait.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were still firing, he heard; and he heard, -too, quick footsteps behind him and a man breathing -fast. He was swung up bodily from the -ground, and there came a voice he knew: “Your -arm round my neck, so. Have no fear, Hugh; -I’ve got you safe.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was firing still and faint cheering; the -rest darkness; but before it closed in on him -Hugh had one blurred glimpse of a strong, blue-eyed -face above him, and he knew it was his -father who held him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The light returned to Hugh in a dim and unfamiliar -place; high above him, as he lay on his -back, he had sight of a vaulted roof full of shadows. -His head felt heavy and dazed, so he did not care -to stir or speak, just closed his eyes again. There -had been faces about him, he remembered vaguely, -and he felt no surprise when he heard a voice -that was unmistakably Ridydale’s: “He’s coming -round, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were pressing a wet cloth to his forehead, -Hugh judged, and his head was aching so he tried -<span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>to thrust up his arm to stop them. “Let—me—alone,” -he forced the words out faintly, and opened -his eyes. It was his father who was bathing his -head, he saw, and remembering what brought -him thither his mind went back to the formal -message he had framed on the way from Tamworth. -“Captain Gwyeth, Sir William Pleydall -bade me deliver word, he will send you relief; it -shall come to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Saxon, take that word to Lieutenant von -Holzberg,” Captain Gwyeth’s voice came curtly. -“Spread it through the troop that help is coming.—Spare -farther speaking now, Hugh; I -understand.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh closed his eyes heavily and lay quiet. -He felt a wet cloth tied round his head, and then -he winced through all his body as a knife ripped -halfway up his sleeve. “Thank Heaven, ’tis only -a clean flesh wound,” he heard the captain say. -“Nay, Jack, I’ll hold him. Do you bandage it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh felt himself lifted up till his head rested -against the captain’s shoulder. Half opening his -eyes he had a confused sight down the nave of -the church, only now it seemed unfamiliar, for -the pews were torn from their places and piled -up against the great entrance door. Up and -down by the walls men were pacing, and some -lay silent on the floor of the choir, and some he -heard groaning as they lay. Then he closed his -eyes and clinched his teeth, for his arm was aching -rarely, so the lightest touch made him shrink. -He wondered if the bandages they were putting -on would never end, and if he could keep on biting -down all sign of pain, when at last Ridydale -<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>spoke: “There, sir, ’tis done the best I could. -If we only had water to wash the hurt properly!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>That suggested to Hugh that his mouth was -dry, so he said under his breath: “I am thirsty.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If there be a drop of water in the place, fetch -it,” Captain Gwyeth bade; and a moment later -Hugh’s head was lifted up and a cup set to his -lips. It was brackish water, and very little at -that; he swallowed it with one gulp, and opened -his eyes to look for more. “Nay, that’s the last,” -the captain spoke out. “’Tis an ill lodging you -have taken with us. I would to God you were -elsewhere!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With the scant power of his returning strength, -Hugh tried to move clear of the arm that was -about him. “I had hoped, this time, you would -not be sorry to see me,” he broke out, in a voice -that quavered in spite of himself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He heard the captain give a sharp order to -Ridydale to be off, and he felt it was to save the -dignity which had almost slipped from him. He -put his head down on the captain’s shoulder -again. “Father, you are glad to have me, after -all,” he said softly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He felt the sudden tension of the arm that -drew him closer, though when Captain Gwyeth -spoke, his tone was of the driest: “After the -trouble I’ve had to get hold of you, do you not -think ’tis reasonable I should be glad?” Then -he cut short all response with a hasty: “Lie you -down here now and be quiet. You’ve been -knocked just enough for you to make a fool of -yourself if you try to talk.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh grinned weakly, and suffered his father to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>put him down with his head upon a folded cloak. -“I’ll send Ridydale to have an eye to you,” the -captain said in a low tone, “and if anything happens, -I’ll be near.” Then he rose and tramped -away down the nave of the church, but Hugh, -watching him through half-shut eyes, saw him -halt to glance back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that Hugh lay a long time in a heavy, -half-waking state, where he listened to the slow -pacing up and down of those about him who kept -guard, and to the quicker step of men who, on other -errands, hastened across the reëchoing church; -he heard men shout orders across the aisles or -nearer to him speak in curt monosyllables; and -he heard, too, all the time, the labored groaning -of one who must lie somewhere near. Then -there were moments when, losing all sounds, he -drifted off into an unknown world, where he lived -over again the happenings of the last hours, and -struggled in the water of the Arrow, and fought -Oldesworth’s troopers, and made the last run -through the churchyard under the Roundhead -fire.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was a relief to come back to consciousness -and find himself lying comfortably on the floor -of the choir with the dark roof far above him. -A glint of purple sunlight from a broken window -wavered on the ground beside him, and, forcing -his mind to follow one train of thought, he contrived -at last to reason out that it must be past -noon. Pulling himself up on his sound arm, he -tried to look about the church, but the effort -made his head ache so he was glad to lie down. -But he had got sight of Ridydale, who stood on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>a bench beneath one of the tall windows in speech -with a trooper, and after a moment’s rest he called -the corporal by name.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ridydale stepped down, carabine in hand, and -came to Hugh’s side. “Is there anything you’ll -be wanting, sir?” he began.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” Hugh replied, “I’d take it kindly of -you if you’d just tell me what hit me that time.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ridydale grinned and settled himself close by -on the steps of the altar with his carabine across -his knees. “’Tis all very simple, Master Hugh,” -he explained. “They wasted a deal of lead trying -to wing you,—they’re clumsy marksmen, -those Roundhead cowherds. Somehow, by good -luck, they contrived to shoot you in the arm. I -take it you stumbled on one of those sunken -stones, then, for you went down and broke your -head against another gravestone.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Was that it?” Hugh asked, in some mortification.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And then the colonel stepped out and fetched -you in. We had sight of you, those that were -keeping the west windows, as you came down to -the lane. ‘It’s Hugh,’ says the colonel, sharplike; -‘unbar the door.’ Soon as we had the -barrier tore down, and we made short work of it, -he out after you. ’Twas a most improper thing, -too,” Ridydale grumbled; “captain of a troop to -risk himself under a fire like that for a mere volunteer. -When there were others ready enough -to go out. Maybe you were too flustered, sir, to -note what a pretty shot I had at the knave who -followed you over the wall?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh confessed he had missed that sight.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>“Ay, ’twas not a shot to be ashamed of,” the -corporal resumed, pulling his mustache with much -satisfaction. “’Twas brisk give and take we -were having then, sir. The colonel had a bullet -through the skirts of his coat ere he got you -within the church. Ay, ’twas improper conduct -of him. What would have become of us all, tell -me now, had he been hurt?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, just the same that will become of you -now he is not hurt,” the captain struck in crisply -as he came up. “Tell me, Hugh, did it commend -itself to the sapience of Sir William Pleydall to -say what time Saturday we might look for relief?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps it does not matter to him whether it -gets here at sunrise or sunset,” the captain remarked -dispassionately. “It makes a mighty -deal of difference to us, though.” He stuck his -hands in his pockets and stood staring up at the -broken window where the sun came through. In -the strong light Hugh noted how haggard his -face looked about the eyes, and how three days of -neglect showed in the red-gold beard. But when -the captain turned from the window there was a -laugh in his eyes. “Jack,” he addressed Ridydale, -who was standing at attention, “what devilry -do you suppose Tommy Oldesworth is at now -that he keeps so quiet?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Shall I try a shot to stir him up, sir?” the -corporal proffered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not for your life, Jack. Go rest you, while -they let us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>As Ridydale strode off, Captain Gwyeth, with -a soberer look, set himself down in his place. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>“You ought to know, Hugh, that we’re in a bad -way,” he spoke out in a brusque, low tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s help coming,” Hugh answered stoutly, -and dragged himself up on one elbow so he could -rest against the steps beside his father.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ay, but it must be quick,” the captain replied, -“for Oldesworth is hot upon us. He came hither -this morning under the white flag to advise us -surrender to his mercy ere he batter down our -walls.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ordnance?” Hugh asked blankly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He may bring it from Warwick. Our only -hope is that he may be so long in the bringing -it— Well, he’s bravely worried that you got in -to us, else he’d not have offered us terms. He’s -troubled about that relief; and, faith, I’m troubled, -too. The men will hold out another twenty-four -hours in the hope, but we’ve had neither food nor -drink since yesterday afternoon. And we are -scant thirty men now, and there are six with disabling -wounds besides.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Couldn’t I make one in the fighting?” Hugh -ventured hesitatingly. “I might not be able to -steady a carabine with one hand, but I could -load—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then we could not use you long,” the captain -said, with a dry laugh. “That’s the crowning curse -of it all, Hugh; there’s not above three bullets -left to a man.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh gazed down the dismantled church, where -the pews were all turned to sorry defences and -the windows were shattered with the rebel balls. -He noted, too, the set, weary faces of the nearest -men on guard, and something of the hopelessness -<span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>of the whole position came home to him. His -face must have shown his thought, for the captain -suddenly put a hand on his shoulder. “That’s -why I’m sorry you are here,” he said briefly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I care not for that,” Hugh choked, “but if -they do not bring aid in time,—Peregrine said -they would hang you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Peregrine?” the captain queried. “Tut, tut! -He should be old enough by now to know a gentleman -does not let himself be taken and hanged -while he has weapons in his hands. Though I -knew from the start ’twould be a fight to the -death if ever I came sword to sword with the -Oldesworths.” There was a space of silence, then -he broke out: “I suppose they taught you I was -a scoundrel, did they not?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“At the last, yes, my grandfather said it,” -Hugh admitted, “but while my mother lived she -told me only good of you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then, she had forgiven me?” the captain -asked in a low tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh’s eyes were not on him, but straying -across the church to where the great Oldesworth -pew had stood; even at that distance he seemed -to read on the tablet set in the wall the name, -“Ruth Gwyeth.” “She did not hold there was -anything to forgive; she said the wrong had all -been hers,” he broke out; “she said you were the -best and noblest gentleman that ever lived, and -far too good for her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Poor lass, poor lass!” the captain said under -his breath; he was sitting with one hand shielding -his eyes, Hugh noted, but of a sudden he -looked down at the boy and spoke curtly: “So -<span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>you came seeking me, believing all that, and then -I thrust you out of doors?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh nodded without looking at his father; -he was conscious of a queer, shamed feeling, as if -he had been himself at fault.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yet you stood up before that hound Bellasis -and took that hack in the face for me. I used -you like a villain, Hugh,” the captain blurted -out; “even Ruth could not forgive me for it. -But, lad, if we come alive from this, I’ll strive to -make you forget it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am forgetting now,” Hugh said honestly. -“And if you’d looked as if you wanted me, I’d -ha’ come to you before.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I did want you. And you waited for me to -look it, did you? I’m thinking we’re something -alike, lad.” He put his arm about the boy’s neck -with a sudden, half rough caress. “Turner said -you had as decent a courage as most lads and a -bit more sense,” he broke out. “Faith, I believe -him. And if we come through here you shall -have a chance to show it to every man in the -troop, yes, to the same fellows that flogged you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh edged a little nearer his father. “I’d do -my best to show them; I’d like the chance,” he -answered; then added thoughtfully, “Though, -after all, I am not sorry for that flogging. If I’d -not known some hard knocks already, they might -have been able to frighten me yesterday.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There he stopped, unavailingly, for the captain -pounced down on him and did not rest till he got -the whole history of the last hours. Hugh put -all the emphasis he could on Master Oldesworth -and on Lois, but Peregrine and Thomas Oldesworth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>were dragged in at the captain’s urgence, -and the captain’s face grew ominous. “’Twas -not clean dealings on Tom Oldesworth’s part,” he -said betwixt his teeth. “Well, when it comes to -the last we’ll remember it against him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With that he got up to go about his business, -but presently strode back with a cushion. “Put -that under your head, Hugh,” he bade, and taking -up the cloak helped the boy wrap it round -him. “You’ll find it cold here in the church as -soon as the sun goes down,” he explained. “Try -to sleep, though; get what strength you can -against to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After he had gone, Hugh settled himself to -sleep, but it took a time, for his arm ached relentlessly, -and his head was hot and his mouth dry. -Moment after moment he lay staring down the -dusky church, where the twilight was filling in, -and harked to the slow step of those on guard. -The shades had gathered dark, and his eyes were -closing, when he realized that the man who had -been groaning in the transept was quiet now. He -guessed what that meant, and something of the -ugliness of death came home to him. He sat up -eagerly to look for some companionship, then felt -ashamed and lay down again to listen and listen -once more, and think on Peregrine’s threats and -Thomas Oldesworth’s set, implacable face. When -he went to sleep at last his kinsmen followed him, -even through his dreams.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dreams, recollections, of a sudden all were -blotted out. He was sitting up, he knew, in a -place that save for two feeble flickers of light was -pitchy black, he heard men running and shouting, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>and, over all and subduing all, he heard a crash, -crash which he judged bewilderedly to be of cannonading. -The roof must fall soon, he feared, -and scrambling to his feet he ran forward into -the darkness and tumult. Above the uproar he -caught Captain Gwyeth’s voice, steady and distinct: -“Lieutenant von Holzberg, your squadron -to their stations at the windows. Corporal Ridydale, -take six men and bear the wounded down -into the crypt.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Following the voice, Hugh stumbled into the -transept and, getting used to the dark, had a vague -sight of his father, who, with his hands behind -him, stood giving orders to right and left. Hugh -leaned against the wall close by and kept his hand -to his head that throbbed and beat with each stroke -of the cannon and shake of the building. During -a lull in the firing he caught the captain’s voice in -a lower key: “You here, Hugh?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I—I take it I was frightened up,” he stammered. -“You’ll help me to a sword before the -end?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No need for that yet,” Captain Gwyeth answered. -“They’ll not be able to batter in these -walls for hours. And by then—” His voice took -a curious change of tone: “You are sure, Hugh, -they made no mention of what time Saturday the -aid would come?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, none,” Hugh replied; “but ’twill surely -come, sir. Dick promised.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, well, we’ve much to hope,” said the captain, -“and, faith, that’s all we can do now. Sit -down here, Hugh,” he went on, leading him over -to the pulpit stairs. “I’ve a notion ’twould be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>pleasing if I could lay hands on you when I want -you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he went back into the din and confusion -of the nave, and Hugh, leaning his head against -the balustrade, harked dazedly to the successive -boom of cannon. Through it all he found space -in his heart to be glad that his father had not suggested -sending him down into the crypt with the -other wounded.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Out through a shattered window to the east he -had sight of a strip of sky, uneven with clouds, and -some small stars. Little by little they paled while -he sat there, and still the guns kept up their -clamor. Once, after the shot, came a great rattling, -and a piece of stone crashed down from -the western wall; Hugh heard a confused running -in that direction, and the captains voice that -checked it. Once again, when oddly he had fallen -into a numb sort of doze, came another shattering -crash, and right upon it a man screamed -out in a way that made Hugh shudder and choke. -After that he dozed no more, but rigid and upright -sat listening.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was light enough to distinguish faces when -at length Captain Gwyeth, with his brows drawn -and his teeth tugging at one end of his mustache, -came up to him. “I’ve a sling here for that -arm of yours,” he said brusquely, beginning to -fasten the bandage. “’Twould be in your way -for any fighting purposes. And here’s a sword. -You may have to use it, unless our friends come -quickly.” Then he paused a time by Hugh, not -speaking, but scowling upon the floor, and at last -strode moodily away.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>The light broadened and brightened within the -church; a patch of sunshine gleamed upon the -floor, and through an east window Hugh could -catch the rays of yellow light glinting across the -sombre leaves of the yew tree. It was a rare, warm, -August day, a strange time for a life and death -struggle, he told himself, as he drew the sword -clumsily from its scabbard. Then he looked to -the western wall of the church, where the light -was smiting in now at a great gap and the crumbled -stones lay scattered across the floor. Up -above he saw a broken fragment of the roof that -hung and swayed so its motion fascinated him. -Of a sudden, as he gazed stupidly, he became -aware the cannonading had ceased, and he wondered -that he had not marked it before. Then -he heard again his father’s curt, quick tones, and -saw the troopers quit their stations to gather opposite -the gap in the wall.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Getting to his feet, Hugh went down to join -the others. At the west door he perceived Von -Holzberg standing with six men, but he passed -on into the nave of the church. There at the -gap the men had fallen into double line, a battered, -haggard little company, some in their -breastpieces, some in their shirt-sleeves. There -were bandaged arms and bandaged heads among -them, Hugh noted, but the carabines were all in -hand, and each had his sword, too, ready at his -side. Captain Gwyeth was with Ridydale, peering -out at the gap in the wall, but now he turned -to his men. “As you see, they have made a practicable -breach in our walls,” he began. “Now -they have it in mind to storm us, and afterward -<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>knock us o’ the head. So it behooves you fight -for your worthless skins. And in any case, if -they destroy us, see to it a good crew of these -cursed rebels go to hell before us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he looked about till his eyes fell on Hugh, -and, coming to him, he took him by the shoulder -and brought him over to front the troop. Hugh -faced the men he had once served, and he saw -Unger on the farther end of the front line, and -Saxon, with his head tied up, and Jeff Hardwyn, -who looked at him and fumbled with his carabine. -Somehow his eyes rested on Hardwyn, as the captain -began speaking briskly: “I’m thinking some -of you know this gentleman, my son. He has -risked his neck twice to break through the lines -and share this fight with us. So I set him in -Cornet Foster’s place, and you will follow him as -your officer. Cornet Gwyeth, you will take six -men and make good the north door.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Right on that, some one, Hugh guessed it was -Saxon, broke into a cheer, which the others took -up. Under cover of the noise, Captain Gwyeth, -still holding Hugh by the shoulder, whispered -him hurriedly: “When they come in, and we -have the last fight, try to get to me. We’ll fight -it out back to back, if it be God’s will.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just there Ridydale, standing by the breach in -the wall, spoke: “Captain Gwyeth, the rebels are -advancing up the hill.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span> - <h2 class='c008'>CHAPTER XXII <br /> <span class='small'>AFTER THE VICTORY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>In the moments while the besieged held their -fire, a hush came upon the church. Hugh could -hear the footfalls startlingly loud as he led his -squadron briskly to the main door, but it did not -seem it was himself who went forward. He saw -the floor slip by him and heard his own tread, but -it was in an impersonal way, as if it were another -man who was to fight that last fight, while he -stood by, unmoved and unaffected, and watched -and passed judgment. Before him now he saw -the entrance door, with the broken pews heaped -in a stiff barricade; to the right, beneath the -window, the ends of the barrier furnished some -foothold, so he started to scramble up and reconnoitre. -His injured arm made him awkward; at -the first step he tottered, and was glad that one of -his followers caught him about the body to steady -him. Glancing down he saw that it was Hardwyn, -but he felt no surprise; everything now was beyond -wonder. “Keep hold on me, Corporal,” he -said, as if Hardwyn had never been any but his -obedient underling, and made a move to step to -the next projection.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just there the heavy stillness of the church was -broken by a jarring rattle of carabine fire that sent -a cracking echo through the high roof. Looking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>over his shoulder Hugh saw gray smoke belch -across the nave, and saw the ordered movement of -the men as the second line, with their carabines -raised, stepped forward to the breach. Right as -he looked the second volley rolled out, and there -came a cracked and dry-throated cheering from -the men. “Four volleys left,” he heard Hardwyn -beside him mutter. “Best cheer while we can.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Once more there was a lull, and Hugh, getting -his sound hand on the window ledge, pulled himself -up, balancing precariously upon the broken -boards, and peered out. He could see the white -walk that ran up to the porch, and on either hand -the untroubled graves, but he beheld no enemy -astir. Venturing to lean a little from the window, -he saw the roadway beyond the church wall, the -arch of the bridge, the water beneath, bright in -the sun, and across it the slope of hillside road. -There Hugh’s eyes rested, and then his voice came -high and shrill so he scarcely knew it: “Hardwyn, -look, look you there! What is coming?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hardwyn was elbowing him at the window; -through the crash of the fourth volley he heard -the barrier creak under the weight of the rest of -the little squadron as they pressed up about him. -But he did not take his eyes from the hilltop till, -black and clear against the sky, a moving line of -horse swung into view.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Cavalry, sir,” spoke Hardwyn, imperturbably, -but Hugh had already turned from the window. -“Run to the captain, Saxon,” he cried. “Tell -him they are coming. Relief, relief!” His voice -rose to a shout that carried through the church, -and his squadron took up the cry, and ended with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>a cheer that spread even to the fighters at the -breach.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Through the uproar sounded Captain Gwyeth’s -voice: “If they will have it, out at them!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The besieged swarmed forth at the breach, -and Hugh, plunging headlong down off the -barrier, ran to join them. The stones slipped -noisily beneath his feet, and as he stumbled over -the crest of the debris he turned his ankle. Outside -the hot blur of sunshine dazzled him; he was -conscious of light, light all around him, and men, -grappling, clubbing, stabbing, in a tumult that bewildered -his brain. Loud amidst the shrieks and -oaths and cries for quarter rattled the crack, -crack of carabines and small arms, but through it -all he could hear the hollow thud, thud of horses -thundering across the bridge. Some one struck at -him, and instinctively he defended himself, though -it was hard to swing a sword in the press. Then, -getting sight of his father’s red head, clear from -the breach in the thick of the fight, he forced his -way down to his side. At the foot of the fallen -stones he stumbled over a man and, as he recovered -himself, came one who tried to strike him -with a clubbed musket. Hugh ducked, and, as -he bent, saw the trampled grass beneath his feet, -then, thrusting low, came away unscathed. Still -he heard the thud, thud of coming horses, and -now, too, he caught clearly from the undistinguishable -shouts and yells the cry: “For a king! -God and the king!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh had one glimpse of horsemen leaping the -low wall; then he was guarding himself from the -slashes of a Roundhead trooper, and only just -<span class='pageno' id='Page_361'>361</span>saved his head. He gave the man back an undercut, -when suddenly the fellow cast the sword from -his hand. “I yield me, sir. Quarter!” he cried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh paused, and, glancing about him now, -saw the battle was indeed over. Down in the road -troopers in red sashes were guarding the way, and -men of the same color were swarming up through -the churchyard, but there was no resistance, save -here and there where single conflicts were still -contested to the end. Then Hugh spied Alan -Gwyeth, picking himself up from the grass at the -foot of the shattered wall, and he ran thither, just -as the captain dragged to his feet the man with -whom he had been grappling. It was Thomas -Oldesworth, Hugh saw, with the dirt grimed into -his coat and his face streaming blood; he stood -unsteadily with one hand pressed to his side, -but his lips were hard set as ever. “Take him -within the church and look to him,” the captain -bade Ridydale, and then there was no room for -thought of the vanquished, for Captain Turner -came riding comfortably up the slope and hailed -them: “Good day to you, Captain Gwyeth. Is -there enough of the troop left to pay us for posting -hither to rescue you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Rescue be hanged!” said the captain, ungraciously, -as he stood wiping the sweat from his -forehead with his sleeve. “We could a held out -three hours longer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Vour hours und more,” put in the stolid Von -Holzberg, and such of the troop as had gathered -thither murmured a resentful assent.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, well, I crave all your pardons for coming -so inopportunely,” Turner answered dryly, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_362'>362</span>then: “So that lad of yours got through in safety? -Better go look for Lieutenant Strangwayes, Master -Gwyeth; I think he’s troubled about you. He -has ridden on the trail of the rebels a piece.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh started down the slope, but, chancing to -glance back, saw Michael Turner had dismounted, -and he and Captain Gwyeth were embracing each -other amicably. Then he went on down the -sunny hillside, and across one mound saw a man -lying motionless on his back, and down by the -wall one who, pulling himself up on his elbow, -called for water. But Hugh could give him no -heed, for up the white, hot roadway he saw a -squadron coming, and at its head a black horse -that he knew. He scrambled up on the low wall -and stood staring and meaning to call, but could -not find voice till the black horse had shot out -from the bulk of the squadron, and Dick Strangwayes -had reined up by the wall. “Hugh! And -safe?” he asked in a low tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh came down off the wall and reached up -to grasp Dick’s hand. “Safe, I think; I’m not -sure yet. And, Dick, ’tis all well now between -my father and me.” Then he stood a moment -with his head leaning against Black Boy’s neck, -and gazed up into Dick’s face and the dazzle of -blue sky beyond, but found nothing he could say.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you’re alive, old Hugh?” came Frank’s -voice behind him. “Faith, you’re a lucky lad. -Here’s your bay horse I borrowed, turn and turn -about. You can ride him back, for we’ll have -enough and to spare.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There they must break off speech, for Turner, -leading his horse carefully, came down from the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_363'>363</span>church and with him Captain Gwyeth. “Call -the troop to saddle again, Lieutenant,” Turner ordered; -“we’ll ride for Everscombe and entreat -these people give the captain back his horses.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll ride with you,” spoke Alan Gwyeth; “I -want to see the house again.” Then he turned -to Hugh and asked in a low tone: “You say -’twas your grandfather took you out of Captain -Oldesworth’s hands?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, sir. He sent me dinner, too, though I -was not feeling hungry then.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The captain smiled a bit. “I’ll remember it to -his credit,” he said. “Now keep you quiet at the -church and save your hurt arm.” He walked off -to mount upon a spare horse, and Hugh watched -him till he rode away with Turner’s troop.</p> - -<p class='c007'>As he was clambering back over the wall into -the graveyard, Frank came panting in his trail. -“Captain Turner bade me stay with you,” he announced; -“sure, he has less liking to me as a volunteer -than as an officer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nonsense! ’Tis only that he does not wish -to take you home wounded. And if they find -The Jade at Everscombe they’ll bring her—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, I have The Jade safe already,” Frank -answered cheerfully, as he kept step with Hugh -up into the churchyard; “they found her grazing -in the fields beyond Tamworth yesterday morning -with her stirrups flapping loose. Dick shut -his mouth then as he does on occasion, and before -nightfall Turner’s and Leveson’s men got off to -bring help. I know not how they’ll do without -us,” he went on, “for Captain Marston’s troop was -the only one recalled to Tamworth. But we are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_364'>364</span>to make a forced march back to-night, if ’tis in -our horses. And that reminds me, Hugh, you’re -not fit to be trusted with a good piece of horse-flesh. -The Jade has strained the tendons of her -near foreleg, and her coat is rough as a last year’s -stubble-field. Not but I’m glad she could serve -you,” Frank corrected himself with tardily remembered -courtesy. “And, faith, I am glad as -Dick that you are still alive.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Up in the church, whither the wounded and -prisoners were being brought, Hugh reported -himself to Von Holzberg, who despatched him -with a squad to forage out food in the village. -The Roundheads had already stripped it pretty -clean, but in an hour’s time Hugh secured enough -for his father’s hungry troop, and, leaving Frank -idling in the village street, led his men back to -the church. In the shade outside several of -Gwyeth’s troop, battered and weary, were easing -themselves with grumbling that they had not been -suffered to come share in the plunder of Everscombe. -The word put it in Hugh’s head that -now he had eaten and felt a bit like himself he -would gladly ride to the manor house and, if he -could, thank his grandfather for the kindness he -had thought to show him. With that intention -he passed into the church to seek Von Holzberg -and get his permission for the journey.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At first, as he came from the bright sunlight, -the shadows within the church blinded him, but -he could hear the sorry groaning of injured men, -and presently made out that the wounded were -laid in the transept before him. It was an ugly, -pitiful sight, and knowing his helplessness to aid -<span class='pageno' id='Page_365'>365</span>he passed on quickly into the choir, where he had -caught sight of Ridydale. Once more the corporal -was seated with his carabine on the altar -stairs, but he now had on his grimmest look, for -down in Hugh’s old place lay Captain Oldesworth. -They must have looked to his hurts -somewhat, for the blood had been washed from -his face, and his coat was flung open as if his side -had been bandaged; he lay quiet now, with his -eyes closed and his lips white, but Hugh, remembering -how mercilessly the man had dealt by -him, told himself he did not pity him. Without -heeding the captain he stepped over to Ridydale -and asked him where Lieutenant von Holzberg -might be found. “He has just passed down into -the nave, Master Hugh,” said Ridydale relaxing -his grimness a trifle. “Crave your pardon, sir, I -should have called you Cornet Gwyeth now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps not yet,” Hugh answered discreetly; -“Sir William Pleydall will have a word to say in -the matter.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Humph!” Ridydale retorted conclusively. -“Hasn’t Colonel Gwyeth said you were his cornet? -What more would you have?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh laughed, and was turning away, when he -perceived that Captain Oldesworth had opened -his eyes and was watching him; he halted short -and waited, for he would not be the first to speak. -“So it’s your day now,” Oldesworth began, in an -even tone that might be construed a dozen ways.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Fortune of war, sir,” Hugh answered coldly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You got in, after all,” the captain pursued, with -something like a groan. “That comes of letting -a civilian meddle with military matters. If you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_366'>366</span>had remained in my hands—” There he broke -off. “I crave your forgiveness, sir,” he finished, -with a bitterness that angered Hugh, yet moved -him to something faintly like compassion, “I had -forgot; a prisoner should be circumspect in -speech.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was on Hugh’s tongue to retort that Cavalier -gentlemen were not wont to mishandle their -prisoners, but he thought on Dennis Butler, and -that speech was silenced. He merely said: “My -father will not abuse you, sir,” and had half a -mind to pass on, when Oldesworth struggled up -on his elbow. “Tell me one thing, Hugh,” he -broke out as if against his will, “has Peregrine -been taken?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, sir, not here at Kingsford.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Oldesworth sank down again with his head -on his arm. “He ran away, then,” he said in a -constrained voice. “He should have come in with -the other squadron. We need not have been so -cut to pieces had the whole troop been there. -Lieutenant Ingram came in with me; he was -killed at the breach. And Peregrine ran away.” -He paused a moment, then spoke half to himself, -“If I come free again I’ll strip him out of his -commission for this.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh dropped on one knee beside his uncle. -“I pray you, sir, take it not so to heart,” he -urged, “mayhap ’twas not that he ran away—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, I know Peregrine,” Captain Oldesworth -answered. “I would ’twere he had turned Cavalier -and you had stayed Roundhead; you’d not have -slunk off to save your skin.” But next moment -he spoke in his bitterest tone: “Nay, get you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_367'>367</span>hence, lad. I don’t want your pity; I’d liefer -have your hate.” Then he turned his face to the -wall, still with his mouth hard set, and closed his -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was nothing more to be said, Hugh saw, -so he came to his feet slowly, with a feeling that -after all he was sorry for Oldesworth, in his pain -and bitter humiliation, much though he had deserved -it. He turned again to Ridydale and said -under his breath: “Corporal, if you love me put -on a less appalling face and use the gentleman -more civilly. After all, he is my kinsman.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he walked away to seek Von Holzberg, -and, getting his permission to ride to Everscombe, -routed out Saxon to make ready Bayard and two -other horses, while he went in search of Frank, -for whom he had a feeling of responsibility. Not -finding him at first, he was a bit worried till, -chancing to step into one of the deserted cottages, -he came upon the lad, curled up snugly on -a settle and fast asleep. He jumped to his feet -in a hurry as Hugh’s hand was laid on his forehead, -and after a first bewildered stare put on a -great assumption of alertness and came stumbling -out into the roadway. “You see, we were in the -saddle all yesternight,” he found tongue to explain, -as the two boys, with Saxon in their wake, -rode out from Kingsford. “So perhaps ’tis no -great blame I just shut my eyes a moment. But, -Hugh, I’d take it kindly if you did not tell Dick -I went to sleep for so little. And by no means -let Captain Turner know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh promised soberly, then, as they trotted -along the highway, relapsed into heavy silence. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_368'>368</span>But Frank still chattered on gayly, insisting on a -rejoinder: “How does it seem to come home -thus? Sure, you’re a dutiful lad to ride this distance -to see your grandfather.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh blinked at Bayard’s erect ears, and told -himself in dull fashion that while he was at -Everscombe he would see Lois again and thank -her, but he did not hold it necessary to speak it -all to Frank.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A little patrol of horse guarded the park gate, but -knowing Hugh they suffered him pass through -with his companions. For all the roadway was -cut with horse hoofs they ventured a brisk trot, -and so came speedily out into the open, and following -the track across the lawn drew up by the -west wing. The rest of the house was silent, but -here were stationed two sentinels of Turner’s -troop, a wagon had just been brought lumbering -to the door, and from within the long guardroom -Strangwayes himself hailed them: “Get off your -horse, and come in, Master Cornet. I’ve recovered -my cuirass from the plunder of these crop-eared -thieves, and I’m thinking I’ve lighted on your -buff coat and sword.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sliding off his horse, Hugh strode briskly into -the big room. At one side a long table had been -hastily set forth, at which a squad of Turner’s -men were making a nondescript meal, but the rest -of the hall was littered with arms and accoutrements -that the troopers were still fetching in -noisily; they must have stripped the manor house -of every warlike furnishing. “Yes, the work is -near done, and we can be off,” Strangwayes said -low to Hugh. “Sure, I’m not the man will be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_369'>369</span>sorry. Did you know, my lad, there’s a harder -thing than storming a town, and that’s to keep -your troop from stealing the town after you’ve -taken it? As ’tis a sort of family matter Captain -Gwyeth is loath to have this house plundered, -so we’ve done our best. But it’s well Leveson’s -thieves have been used in clearing the stable; our -own men have held the house, and they are the -best and most obedient in the regiment. I’ve -knocked down one or two of them, and put three -under arrest, and promised a few floggings, but -barring that they’ve been good as lambs and not -stole from the house more than each man can -hide in his pockets. Trust them? I’d trust my -troop anywhere, that I had my eyes on it,” he -concluded lugubriously. “But now I’m going to -risk taking one eye off them and leave Griffith -to see the spoils loaded in the wagons, while I -tie up your hurts again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Accordingly, Strangwayes sent men running -for water and bandages, and, putting Hugh on a -bench against the wall, was dressing his head and -arm, when Captain Gwyeth came in. Hugh -caught sight of him as he paused an instant in -the doorway, and at the changed expression of -the man’s face a sudden fear struck him, for it -came home to him that, though the captain forgave -the son who had defied him, he might never -forgive the son’s friend who had threatened to -bar the door upon him. It was a new thought, -and it checked Hugh’s first impulsive movement -to rise to meet his father; instead he moved a bit -nearer Dick. There was an instant’s dangerous -silence, then Master Frank, nodding half-asleep -<span class='pageno' id='Page_370'>370</span>at Hugh’s side, perceived Captain Gwyeth and -ran to him. “Why, this is a lucky meeting,” he -cried, leading the captain over to the bench. -“And did I not tell you, sir, when once you were -acquainted with Hugh, he was a right friendly, -generous fellow for all his stubborn face?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>That made Dick turn and come to his feet, -stiff and respectful. “Maybe ’twill please you -look to Hugh’s hurt now, sir,” he said, with a -slight bow.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, you’ve looked to his hurts before this, -Lieutenant,” the captain said slowly. “You’ve -the right to do so now.” He hesitated, then held -out his hand, and Strangwayes took it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Next moment Strangwayes was tying the bandage -about Hugh’s arm again, while he talked -briskly with Captain Gwyeth of the ill ride they -had had from Tamworth, and the worse ride they -were like to have back, to which the captain replied -with a satisfied account of the good spoil of -horses and arms they had made in compensation -for those lost at the first overthrow of his troop. -“So soon as the carts are laden, you are to quit -the house, so Captain Turner bids,” Captain -Gwyeth finished in an everyday tone. “We -must be out of the village before sunset.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then as Strangwayes, ending his surgery, -jumped to his feet to aid Griffith in superintending -the loading, the captain turned to Hugh: “I -bade you stay rest at the church, but since you’ve -taken your way and come hither you can do me -service.” He dropped his voice a little, though -they were screened well enough under the racket -of the men who were carrying forth the captured -<span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>arms: “Get you to the east wing of the house, -where the family have withdrawn, and, if you can, -procure access to Master Oldesworth. He denied -it unto me. Tell him from me that it is for the -sake of his daughter and his daughter’s son that -I have saved his house from utter spoil to-day. -And tell him that I will use Tom Oldesworth -better than he deserves, and exert my influence to -have him speedily exchanged. That’s all.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Hugh passed out through the confusion to the -front of the house, where the carts were loading, -and with a rather dubious foreboding crossed the -terrace to the east wing. Within, the hall was -cool and dark with long afternoon shadows; the -din of the western quarter drifted hither only -faintly, so his mind went back with a vaguely -homesick feeling to the peaceful, humdrum days -at Everscombe a year ago. It seemed like a bit -of the old life to go to the door of the east parlor -and knock and hear his grandfather’s voice bidding -him enter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But once inside, Hugh knew a year had passed -since last he faced Master Oldesworth there. -Not only did a glance at his own buff coat and -high boots, his sword and bandaged arm recall -the change, but he could see his grandfather bent -a little in his chair, and his head looked whiter -even than it had looked two days before. The -old man was sitting by the window, but at Hugh’s -step he turned toward him with a cold, angry -face that made the boy hesitate at first; then taking -courage he repeated his father’s message -respectfully. Master Oldesworth’s face relaxed -a little at the word of Captain Oldesworth, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_372'>372</span>at that Hugh ventured to add in his own behalf: -“And, aside from my father’s message, sir, I -wished to come hither and thank you that you -used me so kindly the other day.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I would use you still better if your stiff-necked -childishness did not prevent,” the old man answered -sternly. “So you will yet refuse what I -would offer and follow this man because he is -your father?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nay, ’tis not for that now, sir,” Hugh replied -happily, “’tis because he saved my life yesterday, -and he has made me his officer. ’Tis because I -know him to be a valiant and a kindly gentleman, -though his temper is hot. And I must go, too, -because my friends all fight for the same cause as -he.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you will play your mother’s part over -again,” Master Oldesworth said sharply, and gazed -out at the window so long that Hugh made a -motion to go, when the old man rose and bade -him come to him. “You are set to go your own -way, and ’tis a foolish way,” he began, putting his -hand on the boy’s shoulder. “’Twas her way, too. -Yet spite of all I loved her best of all my daughters -or yet of my sons. Well, well, Hugh, I would -not say it the first time you went, but now if God -can look on a man who fights in so unjust a cause -I pray He may keep you uncorrupted and turn -your heart aright while there is time. Now go -your way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He turned to the window, and Hugh murmured -that he thanked him from his heart and would -strive never to shame him by his conduct.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he passed out into the hall again, and, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>with his mind on what had just been said, was -stepping slowly to the door, when from the stairway -he heard his name called. Before he faced -about he knew it was his sharp-tongued Aunt -Delia, but the sensitive boyish dread of her was -all gone now. He turned back briskly to learn -her bidding, and as he turned he perceived Lois -Campion standing by her at the foot of the stairs. -“’Tis well you have come back, Hugh Gwyeth,” -Mistress Oldesworth began in a cutting voice that -might have made Hugh wince, only he told himself -that she was Peregrine’s mother, and Peregrine -was a coward and a runaway; she had need -of words to vent her bitter sorrow. “There is -one here maybe has claim on you, if you still -hold in remembrance this gentlewoman,” she -went on, leading Lois forward. “She has remembered -you so well that she has forgotten her -duty to her kindred and to—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let me go, aunt!” Lois cried in a smothered -tone. She had brushed by Hugh and run out at -the open door before he fully comprehended, and -without a glance at Mistress Oldesworth he ran -after.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Out under the elms of the east terrace he overtook -Lois, and catching her hand made her stay. -“What is it? What does it mean?” he urged.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing,” she answered, with her head erect -and her cheeks blazing. “Only, I can never go -under that woman’s roof again. Some things -even a poor weak-spirited creature like a girl will -not endure.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But if you cannot stay at Everscombe,” Hugh -repeated blankly, but next moment he was half -<span class='pageno' id='Page_374'>374</span>laughing. “Faith, Lois, the time has come now; -you shall run away with me. Come, we’ll be off -at once.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The most of the troop had already ridden for -Kingsford, Hugh perceived, as they came to the -front of the house, but by the west door Dick -and Frank, with Saxon and a trooper or two, still -stayed for him. Hugh led Lois up to his two -friends, a bit slowly, for the girl’s steps faltered -shyly. “Dick,” he began, “this is Mistress Campion -of whom I have told you. They have cast -her out from Everscombe because she set me free -from them yesterday, so ’tis in my mind to take her -unto Tamworth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dick’s expressive eyebrows went up, but before -Hugh had time for resentment, or even comprehension, -he had swung round on the trooper who -waited at Black Boy’s head: “Off to the stable -with you and fetch a pillion. Frank, use your -impudence well and bring out a cloak for Mistress -Campion from the house. ’Tis well thought -on, Hugh, for surely all the regiment is indebted -to the gentlewoman who aided you to bear that -message. Say, by Mistress Campion’s leave, we -convey her to my cousin, Mistress Cresswell, in -Worcestershire?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did I not tell you, Lois, that Dick was the -best good fellow ever lived?” Hugh broke out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pshaw!” said Strangwayes. “Get to your -saddle, you one-armed warrior. You’ll have all -you can do to manage Bayard, so I shall entreat -Mistress Campion to ride behind me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In such order they went from Everscombe in -the late afternoon, and, urging the horses a trifle, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_375'>375</span>for Captain Turner and Captain Gwyeth had long -since ridden forth, came into Kingsford as the -sun was setting. Already the troops were falling -into marching order in the road, and Strangwayes, -only pausing to bid Hugh look that he did not go -to sleep and pitch over his saddle-bow ere he -reached Tamworth, trotted ahead to take his -place in the rear of Turners men. At a word -from him Frank followed at his side, but Lois, -seated behind Dick, kept her face turned back -to Hugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He watched till they passed in the rear of the -troop down to the bridge of the Arrow, then drew -Bayard back to the little band that represented -Gwyeth’s men; the troopers were all in the saddle; -behind them Leveson’s squads were getting -to horse, and the graveyard was deserted. The -slope of the hill and the church were red in the -sunset but very peaceful now; Hugh looked to -the church tower and saw no flag was flying. -Then he heard a voice at his elbow: “The colors, -sir.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He looked down at Ridydale, stiff and soldierly, -who saluted and passed him up the red -and gold cornet of the troop.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can you manage the flag, Hugh?” spoke -Captain Gwyeth, getting leisurely to horse beside -him. “Leave it to the corporal if your -arm—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sure, sir, I can manage it very well indeed,” -Hugh broke in, much alarmed; he braced the -staff against his stirrup and, resting it in the -crook of his elbow, gathered the reins into his -sound hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_376'>376</span>“Nay, none shall take it from you, Cornet -Gwyeth,” the captain laughed, and turned to the -trumpeter to sound the order to march forward.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They rode slowly down the slope to the bridge. -The water splashed beneath the archway, and the -horses’ hoofs sounded hollow on the road; Hugh -listened happily, while his thoughts sped back to -the last time he had crossed the bridge, a friendless -little runaway. On the thought he turned in -his saddle and gazed back at the church that -now showed black against the sunset sky. Did -the mother who lay buried there, he wondered, -know that at last he had found Alan Gwyeth? -He faced slowly to the front again, and as he -faced he met the captain’s eyes; there were no -words between them, but each guessed something -of the other’s thoughts. Hugh tightened -his hold on Bayard’s bridle and drew close, so he -rode knee to knee with his father.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>“ANOTHER BEWITCHING ROMANCE”</div> - <div><span class='small'>—<cite>The Times</cite>, New York</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='xlarge'>THE PRIDE OF JENNICO</span></div> - <div class='c004'>BEING A MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN BASIL JENNICO</div> - <div class='c004'>BY</div> - <div class='c004'><span class='large'>AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE</span></div> - <div class='c004'>16mo. Cloth. $1.50</div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<p class='c007'><span class='small'>“Picturesque in literary style, rich in local color, rising at times almost to tragic -intentness, and bristling throughout with dramatic interest.”—<cite>The Record</cite>, Philadelphia.</span></p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='small'>"There is a wealth of historic detail which lends an interest to the story apart from -the romantic love affair between Captain Jennico and the Princess Marie Ottilie of Lausitz. -The hero’s great-uncle had been one of those lucky English adventurers whose Catholic -religion and Jacobite leanings had debarred him from promotion at home, and who had -found advancement in the service of Austria, and wealth with the hand of a Bohemian -heiress. Such chances were not uncommon with ‘Soldiers of Fortune’ in the times of -Queen Anne and the early Georges. At his uncle’s death, Captain Basil Jennico became -the possessor of many millions (reckoned by the florins of that land), besides the great -property of Tollendahl—fertile plains as well as wild forests, and of the isolated frowning -castle of Tollendahl with its fathom-thick walls, its odd pictures of half-savage dead and -gone Woschutzkis, its antique clumsy furniture, tapestries, trophies of chase and war. -He became master, moreover, of endless tribes of dependents, heiducks and foresters; -females of all ages whose bare feet in summer pattered oddly on the floors like the tread -of animals, whose high boots in winter clattered perpetually on the stone flags of stairs -and corridors; serf peasants, factors, overseers, the strangest mixture of races that can -be imagined; Slovacks, Bohemians, Poles, to labor on the glebe; Saxons or Austrians to -rule over them and cipher out rosters and returns; Magyars who condescended to manage -his horse-flesh and watch over his safety if nothing else; the travelling bands of gypsies, -ever changing, but never failing with the dance, the song and the music, which was as -indispensable as salt to the life of that motley population.</span></p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='small'>“The story is largely historical, both German and English elements entering into it. -The scene changes from the old castle of Tollendahl to an English country house and -London club, always maintaining its old world flavor.”</span></p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='small'>“The tale is gracefully told, and owing partly to this fact and to the novelty of the -setting given to Basil Jennico’s amazing experience, it gains for itself a place apart.... -It is an artistic production and it is original.”—<cite>The York Tribune.</cite></span></p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='small'>“One of the newest and best novels of the decade.”—<cite>The Budget</cite> (Boston).</span></p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='small'>“No such piece of inimitable comedy, in a literary way, has appeared for years.”—<cite>The -Inter-Ocean</cite> (Chicago).</span></p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='large'>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</span></div> - <div>66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK</div> - <div>Chicago Boston San Francisco</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>CROWNED BY THE LONDON ACADEMY</div> - <div><span class='small'>as one of the three most important books published during the year 1898</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='xlarge'>THE FOREST LOVERS</span></div> - <div class='c004'><span class='large'>By MAURICE HEWLETT</span></div> - <div class='c004'><span class='small'><i>Author of “Earth Works out of Tuscany,” “Pan and the Young</i></span></div> - <div><span class='small'><i>Shepherd,” etc.</i></span></div> - <div class='c004'>Cloth. 12mo. $1.50</div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>JAMES LANE ALLEN says:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“This work, for any one of several solid reasons, must be regarded as -of very unusual interest. In the matter of style alone, it is an achievement, -an extraordinary achievement ...; in the matter of interpreting nature -there are passages in this book that I have never seen surpassed in prose -fiction.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>HAMILTON W. MABIE says:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“The plot is boldly conceived and strongly sustained; the characters -are vigorously drawn and are thrown into striking contrast.... It leads -the reader far from the dusty highway; it is touched with the penetrating -power of the imagination; it has human interest and idyllic loveliness.”—<cite>Book -Reviews.</cite></p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>The New York Tribune says:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“A series of adventures as original as they are romantic.... ‘The -Forest Lovers’ is a piece of ancient arras; a thing mysteriously beautiful, -a book that is real and at the same time radiant with poetry and art. ‘The -Forest Lovers’ will be read with admiration and preserved with something -more than respect.”</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>The Outlook calls it:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“A story compounded of many kinds of beauty. It has, to begin with, -enchanting beauty of background; or rather, it moves through a beautiful -world, the play of whose light upon it is subtle, beguiling, and magical.”</p> - -<hr class='c018' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='large'>THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</span></div> - <div>66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> -<p class='c007'><a id='endnote'></a></p> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='large'>Transcriber’s Note</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Only one typographical error was detected in this volume. At <a id='c_168.6'></a><a href='#corr168.6'>168.6</a>, “I am -clean [’/”], the closing quotation mark should have been a double-quote,</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hugh Gwyeth, by Beulah Marie Dix - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUGH GWYETH *** - -***** This file should be named 52962-h.htm or 52962-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/9/6/52962/ - -Produced by KD Weeks and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet -Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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