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.” 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:— WORTHY SIR: 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. Your obedient servant, ALAN GWYETH. 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. 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. “Will you not ride back to the city with me, sir?” Ridydale put in eagerly. 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.” 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. WORTHY SIR: 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 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. Your obedient servant, HUGH GWYETH. 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.