Wondering dully why all the strength had gone out of his body, Hugh stumbled across the room and pitched up against the wall beside his grandfather. He noted now that his shirt was torn open, and drawing his coat together he tried to fasten it; his fingers shook unsteadily, and the buttons were hard to find. He felt his grandfather’s hand placed firmly on his shoulder. “I think you have mishandled this gentleman enough to satisfy you,” the old man spoke contemptuously. “Henceforth you will merely hold him as a prisoner taken in honorable war. And I shall myself be responsible for his custody.” “My good father,” Captain Oldesworth broke out, “I cannot suffer him to pass from my keeping. My responsibility to the state—” “Will you school me, Thomas?” Master Oldesworth cut him short. “I am neither bed-ridden nor brain-sick that you should try to dictate to me now. But I will advise you, sir, that there are decencies to be observed even in war, and there are those in authority would make you to smart if ever they got knowledge of this you purposed. Lift your hand against my grandson, and this day’s work comes to their ears.” Then the grasp on Hugh’s shoulder tightened, and submissively he walked at his grandfathers side out into the guardroom. Those loitering there drew back to make way for them, he judged by the sound of footsteps, but he had not spirit even to look up. By the difference of the oak planking of the floors he perceived they were entering the passage that led to the main building, when he felt a firmer grip close on his arm and heard the voice of the Roundhead corporal: “I crave your pardon, sir. The captain bade me see the prisoner safely locked up.” “No need,” Master Oldesworth spoke curtly, and then addressed Hugh: “You will give me your parole not to attempt an escape.” Hugh looked up helplessly into his grandfather’s stern face, and felt the grasp of the corporal press upon his arm. His breath came hard like a sob, but he managed to force out his answer: “I cannot, sir, I cannot. You’d better thrust me back into my uncle’s hands. I cannot promise.” He was trying to nerve himself to be dragged back to the chamber behind the guardroom, but though Master Oldesworth’s face grew harder, he only said, “Bring him along after me,” and led the way down the passage. Hugh followed unsteadily, glad of the grasp on his arm that helped to keep him erect. They had entered the east wing, he noted listlessly; then he was trudging up the long staircase and stumbling down the corridor. At the first window recess he saw Master Oldesworth halt and heard him speak less curtly: “I have indeed to thank you, mistress.” Raising his eyes as he passed, Hugh saw that by the window, with hands wrung tight together, Lois Campion was standing.