There they must break off speech, for Turner, leading his horse carefully, came down from the church and with him Captain Gwyeth. “Call the troop to saddle again, Lieutenant,” Turner ordered; “we’ll ride for Everscombe and entreat these people give the captain back his horses.” “I’ll ride with you,” spoke Alan Gwyeth; “I want to see the house again.” Then he turned to Hugh and asked in a low tone: “You say ’twas your grandfather took you out of Captain Oldesworth’s hands?” “Yes, sir. He sent me dinner, too, though I was not feeling hungry then.” The captain smiled a bit. “I’ll remember it to his credit,” he said. “Now keep you quiet at the church and save your hurt arm.” He walked off to mount upon a spare horse, and Hugh watched him till he rode away with Turner’s troop. As he was clambering back over the wall into the graveyard, Frank came panting in his trail. “Captain Turner bade me stay with you,” he announced; “sure, he has less liking to me as a volunteer than as an officer.” “Nonsense! ’Tis only that he does not wish to take you home wounded. And if they find The Jade at Everscombe they’ll bring her—” “Oh, I have The Jade safe already,” Frank answered cheerfully, as he kept step with Hugh up into the churchyard; “they found her grazing in the fields beyond Tamworth yesterday morning with her stirrups flapping loose. Dick shut his mouth then as he does on occasion, and before nightfall Turner’s and Leveson’s men got off to bring help. I know not how they’ll do without us,” he went on, “for Captain Marston’s troop was the only one recalled to Tamworth. But we are to make a forced march back to-night, if ’tis in our horses. And that reminds me, Hugh, you’re not fit to be trusted with a good piece of horse-flesh. The Jade has strained the tendons of her near foreleg, and her coat is rough as a last year’s stubble-field. Not but I’m glad she could serve you,” Frank corrected himself with tardily remembered courtesy. “And, faith, I am glad as Dick that you are still alive.” Up in the church, whither the wounded and prisoners were being brought, Hugh reported himself to Von Holzberg, who despatched him with a squad to forage out food in the village. The Roundheads had already stripped it pretty clean, but in an hour’s time Hugh secured enough for his father’s hungry troop, and, leaving Frank idling in the village street, led his men back to the church. In the shade outside several of Gwyeth’s troop, battered and weary, were easing themselves with grumbling that they had not been suffered to come share in the plunder of Everscombe. The word put it in Hugh’s head that now he had eaten and felt a bit like himself he would gladly ride to the manor house and, if he could, thank his grandfather for the kindness he had thought to show him. With that intention he passed into the church to seek Von Holzberg and get his permission for the journey.