All the day he was silent, did not even cry, did not eat or drink, scarcely moved. They slept at an inn, and started again in the early morning. Dick put one or two questions, but in a dull way, merely about the length of their journey, for bodily weariness was now his most conscious feeling. He had no chance of escaping had he dreamt of anything of the sort, which he did not. He only wanted to stop riding, to rest, and he had a queer feeling that, if they were to stop for a whole day, he would fall asleep, and wake up to find it was all a bad dream. But they never stopped, except for an hour or two. Newton changed his horse on the second day and on the fourth. On that day Dick asked more questions. "When did Newton think Master Purvis would come to his friends in the south?" Newton couldn't say. Dick did not like Newton, and towards the evening of the fourth day he began to be troublesome. He had been sick in the morning, and was inclined to a sullen resistance simply for the relief of resisting. And now he cried and was peevish, would rather stay and starve where they were than go farther. "The first Royalist we meet will save you from starving," Newton said meaningly. And just then there came into sight round a bend of the road a Cavalier, gaily dressed, well mounted, with a servant behind him. This was the ex-officer, and he felt a certain amusement in the part he was now playing. He seemed to be riding by, but suddenly reined up, and looked sharply at Dick. "Hold!" he shouted. "That boy is wanted by the King's Provost-Marshal." Dick's heart was in his mouth. Newton drew up, and stammered out something with well-feigned confusion. "Hand him over, sirrah, and don't gibber," snapped the officer. "The earl has given his orders about this matter. All the officers intend to be present, let me tell you!" Dick shivered. He thought of all those gay gentlemen looking on at his shame. He knew how indifferent and good-humoured their faces would be, how they would jest courteously with each other, and care not a jot for the boy who, they said, had lied to them brazenly. And Giles's master would be there! He had been so kind, and had trusted him so thoroughly. Newton set him down on the ground. The officer had dismounted too. Dick, utterly misled by the tale he had been told, and quite in despair, flung himself at the officer's feet, and begged him to kill him there, not to take him back--to have mercy and kill him there. "Not that!" Dick cried. "I can die here, but not before them! For pity's sake, spare me!" The man's hard face flushed a little. He remembered his own shame when, before the troops, he was degraded and sent from the army. Newton muttered impatiently: "Thrash him, Major, and let us be gone."