Men gave him place; he heard a mutter amongst them, “The captain’s son,” but he did not heed; just pushed his way to the wounded man, and bent over him: “Cowper, what has happened? Is anything wrong with my father? Tell me.” “They closed in on us, sir,” the man roused up to speak. “Captain Oldesworth’s horse, and a company of foot beside. They took our horses and they slew Cornet Foster. I came through for help. They have the colonel blocked up in Kingsford church.” CHAPTER XIX THE RIDING OF ARROW WATER For a moment the faces of the men about him went all blurry to Hugh’s sight; then he was making his way fumblingly across the guardroom, and, thrusting out one arm before him, found the door to the inner part of the castle. Now that he was hurrying at a surer pace down the corridor within, he realized that his breath was coming in short gasps and he was shaking with a nervous tremor. Kingsford, Kingsford, the word kept singing through his head; the Oldesworths, who had so hated Alan Gwyeth, held him at their mercy now at Kingsford. Only to Hugh it was no longer Alan Gwyeth, but his father, the father whom his mother had taught him to respect, who had tried to win him a pardon. And he had begrudged the man even a grateful thought. Hugh dashed open the door of his chamber, and, kicking off his shoes, began tugging on his boots. He heard a step behind him, as he struggled with his head bent; then came Frank’s voice: “Hugh, you’ve heard? They have cut him off; he has cried for help; my father is taking counsel with the captains—” “Counsel?” cried Hugh, springing to his feet. “Why don’t they send him aid?” He tore his buff coat down from the wall. “Faith, ’tis a question if there is aid to send,” Frank cried, in equal excitement, as he made a hindering effort to help Hugh into the coat; “they have taken away so many of our regiment; we are scant a hundred men all told; they say ’tis doubtful if we can send—” “Then I’ll go to Kingsford alone. Run bid them saddle Bayard, Frank, quick.” With that Hugh caught up his sword, and, going full speed out of the chamber, drowned in the clatter of his boots the protests Frank sent after him. Below, in the tower room that served for conferences, Sir William would be with his officers, and he hoped there to learn farther news. Almost at the door he ran upon a man from Turner’s troop, all accoutred, who drew back and saluted him. “What seek you? Know you what they are planning?” Hugh asked excitedly. “Nay, sir; only I was bid have my horse ready, and stand at their service.” Hugh could guess the service. Pushing by the trooper to the door of the chamber, he knocked a rattling, peremptory knock, and another right upon it. At that the door was wrenched open, and Leveson, grim and dignified, had begun, “What brings you, sirrah?” when Turner’s voice interrupted: “Hugh Gwyeth, is it? Let him come in.”