By hard riding they contrived before moonrise to reach Ashcroft and rouse up the Widow Flemyng. She fair hugged Hugh, and said of course she knew he’d get his pardon; then fell to cooking their supper, while she talked loudly and contentedly to either of them or both. Next morning they set out in dubious weather, and, going a short stage out of their direct road, passed that night with Butler and his officers, who made much of Strangwayes, though they looked askance at Hugh, and were half loath to forgive him for not getting hanged as they had prophesied. Next evening brought them to Sir William Pleydall’s great house in Worcestershire, where his widowed daughter, Mistress Cresswell, gave them a hearty welcome, and, riding thence at sunrise, they came at last unto Tamworth. It was about four of the afternoon, hot and moist with slow rain, when they rode across the King’s Dyke down the narrow High Street of the town. At the door of a tavern Hugh caught sight of a trooper loitering, a shiftless fellow of Turner’s company, but he longed to jump down and have speech with the rascal. “Let us push on briskly, Dick,” he begged, and so they went at a swinging pace down the street and across the river, where on its height Tamworth Castle towered black against the gray sky. There was a shout of greeting to the petty officer of the watch, a scurrying of grooms in the paved south court of the castle, and then the word of their coming must have travelled at high speed, for barely had they crossed to the main door of the keep when a young officer ran out to meet them, and fell on Strangwayes. “Have you forgot me, Lieutenant?” he cried. “Sure, no, Cornet Griffith,” Dick answered heartily. “Your leg’s recovered?” “A matter of a limp; it does well enough in the saddle. I have back my commission under Captain Turner now, so we’ll serve in the same troop. Ay, your lieutenancy is waiting for you.” Talking boisterously, they crossed the great hall that was now a guardroom, and, passing into one of the lesser rooms that served the officers, came upon Michael Turner. It pleased Hugh more than he could show that the captain did not scoff at him, but gave him a half-embrace, saying kindly: “Faith, we’re glad to have you back, Gwyeth.” Though next moment he had turned away to talk with Strangwayes: “You’ve come in time for work, Lieutenant. They’re drawing all the men they can find westward unto Gloucester, where they say there will be brisk doings. Leveson’s and my troops are here in the castle; Gwyeth’s has gone a-raiding into Warwickshire; the others are all prancing into the west. We’re a scant hundred to defend the whole town, so we’ll gladly give you the pleasure of keeping the watch to-night.”