He did not tell his companion what the business might be, but to all appearances it was furthered by taking a room in Oxford, by dining with various gentlemen and officers, and by devoting some days to a happy and care-free time of which Hugh enjoyed every moment. Not till the morning succeeding the day on which the king left the city to take possession of Bristol did Strangwayes make mention of the northward journey; then he routed Hugh early from his bed with the announcement that they would set out at once. “But first we must eat a meal at the ‘Sceptre,’” he concluded. “Fit yourself for the road, Hugh, and gallop thither to order dinner. If I’m not with you ere noon I’ll have been called north by the other way, so do you post after as fast as you can. Remember.” An hour later Hugh was gayly riding out by the western road, which he had last travelled with such different feelings, and, coming in the mid-morning to the “Sceptre,” ordered dinner grandly. Afterward he loitered down to the bowling green, now all short velvety grass, where he had inveigled Martin, the friendly drawer, into giving him a lesson in bowls, when Strangwayes hailed him noisily from the doorway. “My business is despatched,” he said smilingly, as Hugh came to meet him. “After all, we’d best bribe Martin here to eat the dinner for us. We must be off.” They went out from the “Sceptre” at a rattling pace, but the first hill slackened their speed so conversation was possible. Then Strangwayes drawled pleasantly, “I’ve no wish to deceive you into any danger, Hugh, so you should know I have just fought with Herbert Bellasis.” “Dick!” Hugh cried. “I was most circumspect,” Strangwayes apologized. “I waited till the king was well away, so I might not do it in the very teeth of him. And I did not hurt the fat lump, though I’d fain have done so. I only knocked the sword out of his fist, and then the poor knave was very ready to kneel down and crave my pardon, and swear never so to abuse a gentleman again. Don’t put on your Puritan face, Hughie. The fellow had so treated me I could do nothing else.” “Why did you not let me come to the field with you?” Hugh protested. “I take it most unkindly of you.” “I was not going to let my folly spoil your new fortunes,” Strangwayes answered. “I think ’twas done so quietly ’twill all blow over, since we have got away to Tamworth. But if not, no charge can come against you.” “Why will you always be sparing me as if I were a child?” Hugh cried, with an angry break in his voice. “Because some ways you are still just a long-legged, innocent bairn,” Dick replied, with a chuckle, whereat Hugh tried to sulk, but that was impossible with Dick talking fast of their comrades at Tamworth. In the end he must talk, too, and laugh with Dick, till he forgot the hurt to his dignity.