“Is it you, Dick?” Hugh asked. “Nay,” Strangwayes answered, with a chuckle; “’tis a one time independent colonel, Alan Gwyeth.” CHAPTER XII FOR THE HONOR OF THE GWYETHS “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.” “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.” “Since I must steer to the windward of hypocrisy, I am _not_ 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.” “Philip Bellasis?” queried Hugh, struggling to recall what that name stood for. “What has he to do in this matter?” “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; _ergo_, Colonel Gwyeth has taken my Lord Bellasis into his hatred. My Lord Bellasis is blessed with the gout; _ergo_, 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.” 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.” 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.” “Where is the rest of the regiment?” Hugh asked.