After that Hugh had a confused sight of the high-studded room, with the sunlight far up on the walls and the corners dusky, and of the men by the table, who had faced toward him. Then he found himself over by Sir William’s armchair, his hand resting hard upon the table, and he was speaking rapidly: “I am going to Kingsford, Sir William, to my father. If you are seeking a messenger for anything, I’ll bear it safely. For I am going straightway.” “Nay, I shall not suffer it, Hugh Gwyeth,” the baronet cut him short. “Do you understand? The roads are close beset; the trooper who brought us the tidings was shot in the arm and the side.” “But I know the Kingsford roads. I can make it,” Hugh protested, and looked from one to another of the three dubious faces. “Sure, you’ll let me go,” he burst out. “I must. If he be—harmed and I not there. I must go.” His eyes dropped to his hands that were clinching his hat fast, and rested there; he dared not glance again at those about him lest he find refusal in their looks, and he hoped they might not be gazing at him, for he knew his mouth was working. Then Turners voice sounded quick and decided: “Let him go, Sir William.” “Ay, he is a light rider and he knows the roads. A good messenger, after all,” Leveson added in a matter-of-fact tone. Hugh looked up hopefully and saw a glance exchanged between Sir William and his captains that meant his case was won. “We’ll not endanger you with a written message,” the baronet spoke at once; “for I tell you frankly, sir, you run a hundred chances of capture. If you do contrive to bring yourself through the rebel lines, bid Captain Gwyeth from me to hold out but two days, till Saturday, and he shall have help. ’Tis so you have determined, gentlemen?” “If the Lord aid us, we can recall enough troops to make the town good and ride for the rescue by then,” Turner answered. “That’s all your message, Gwyeth,” Sir William resumed; “and remember, if the rebels knew the time when relief could be looked for, ’twould aid them mightily, so if you be taken—” “I’ll not be taken, sir, I do assure you,” cried Hugh, with his hand on the latch of the door; “I’ll come through safe to Kingsford.” “Heaven grant it!” the other said, with a trace of a smile, and then soberly, “I can warn you, the captain will be glad at heart to see you.” Turner said something kindly, too, Hugh remembered afterward, but for the present it was just people speaking and wishing him God speed, and he was glad when he clapped on his hat outside the door and could run for his horse.