“’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?” “He would deem himself most notably affronted,” the other answered soberly. 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.” “And how do they call this notable friend of yours?” “Richard Strangwayes, your Highness. He was lieutenant in the regiment of Sir William Pleydall.” “Pleydall? Ah, your case was brought unto our notice two months back. Ay, surely. Gwyeth and Strangwayes. Sir William Pleydall was urging your pardon through a certain Captain Gwyeth who came to me.” 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. “I will promise, your Highness,” Hugh answered soberly. “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?” “If it does please your Highness,” Hugh said politely; then added honestly, “I should be loath to part with him.” 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.” Then he turned again to his map in sign of 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.