Hugh dropped on one knee beside his uncle. “I pray you, sir, take it not so to heart,” he urged, “mayhap ’twas not that he ran away—” “Nay, I know Peregrine,” Captain Oldesworth answered. “I would ’twere he had turned Cavalier and you had stayed Roundhead; you’d not have slunk off to save your skin.” But next moment he spoke in his bitterest tone: “Nay, get you hence, lad. I don’t want your pity; I’d liefer have your hate.” Then he turned his face to the wall, still with his mouth hard set, and closed his eyes. There was nothing more to be said, Hugh saw, so he came to his feet slowly, with a feeling that after all he was sorry for Oldesworth, in his pain and bitter humiliation, much though he had deserved it. He turned again to Ridydale and said under his breath: “Corporal, if you love me put on a less appalling face and use the gentleman more civilly. After all, he is my kinsman.” Then he walked away to seek Von Holzberg, and, getting his permission to ride to Everscombe, routed out Saxon to make ready Bayard and two other horses, while he went in search of Frank, for whom he had a feeling of responsibility. Not finding him at first, he was a bit worried till, chancing to step into one of the deserted cottages, he came upon the lad, curled up snugly on a settle and fast asleep. He jumped to his feet in a hurry as Hugh’s hand was laid on his forehead, and after a first bewildered stare put on a great assumption of alertness and came stumbling out into the roadway. “You see, we were in the saddle all yesternight,” he found tongue to explain, as the two boys, with Saxon in their wake, rode out from Kingsford. “So perhaps ’tis no great blame I just shut my eyes a moment. But, Hugh, I’d take it kindly if you did not tell Dick I went to sleep for so little. And by no means let Captain Turner know.” Hugh promised soberly, then, as they trotted along the highway, relapsed into heavy silence. But Frank still chattered on gayly, insisting on a rejoinder: “How does it seem to come home thus? Sure, you’re a dutiful lad to ride this distance to see your grandfather.” Hugh blinked at Bayard’s erect ears, and told himself in dull fashion that while he was at Everscombe he would see Lois again and thank her, but he did not hold it necessary to speak it all to Frank. A little patrol of horse guarded the park gate, but knowing Hugh they suffered him pass through with his companions. For all the roadway was cut with horse hoofs they ventured a brisk trot, and so came speedily out into the open, and following the track across the lawn drew up by the west wing. The rest of the house was silent, but here were stationed two sentinels of Turner’s troop, a wagon had just been brought lumbering to the door, and from within the long guardroom Strangwayes himself hailed them: “Get off your horse, and come in, Master Cornet. I’ve recovered my cuirass from the plunder of these crop-eared thieves, and I’m thinking I’ve lighted on your buff coat and sword.”