“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 ready to eat a full breakfast.” He put Hugh aside with one arm about his shoulders, and went out of the room. 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. 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.” 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!” 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. Right on the word Frank Pleydall burst into the room. “Is it true you’re to fight?” he cried. “A guess near the truth,” answered Strangwayes. “Draw up and share with us.” “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?” 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.” 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.”