“Simply told. I heard there was work for men of enterprise, and I judged my loyal uncle would have turned my pounds and shillings into troopers and muskets, and would gladly give me a commission in exchange. So I spent what surplus money I had,—’tis the surest way to cheat thieves,—and took ship for King’s Lynn. I paid a swift visit to my elder brother in Lincolnshire; he is for the Parliament,—Heaven and my father’s spirit forgive him! So I mounted and faced me westward to the king, and here I am now, and here we are.” The two horses clinked across the cobbles of the courtyard of the village inn, a hostler ran up officiously, and the host himself came puffing out to greet the guests. “Well, friend, what news on the road?” cried Strangwayes, swinging out of his saddle. “Has a troop of Cavaliers passed through here?” The host gazed from one to the other, then up at the sky, then back at the travellers. “Be you king’s men?” he finally asked, with mild curiosity. “Sure, I trust we all be honest people,” Strangwayes answered dryly. “Well, well, that may be as it may be; I say naught; only ’tis good hap for you, you lie in a snug haven to-night.” “Why, what mean you? Are there hobgoblins farther on?” Strangwayes’ voice dropped to a ridiculous quaver that made Hugh smile. “Worse nor hobgoblins, master,” replied the host. “Have ye not heard, then? They do say a stout band of Puritan rogues are plundering the country, yonder toward the west of us.” CHAPTER V IN AND OUT OF THE “GOLDEN RAM” Though the dawn of another day had broken, slate-colored clouds still hid the sun and a mist like a fine rain hung in the air; even the white horse and the gray, standing saddled and ready in the inn yard, touched noses as if they vowed the weather bad. Hugh slapped their flanks and settled their damp manes, while he waited for Strangwayes to pay the reckoning to the mildly curious host, but the process proved so long that at last he mounted into the saddle and ambled slowly out into the highway. Turning the gray horse’s nose to the west he paced forward, with his heart a-jump at the thought that yonder in the mist before him real danger that tested men’s courage might be lurking. A gay clatter of hoofs on the uneven roadway made him turn just as Strangwayes came abreast of him. At once Hugh blurted out what was uppermost in his thoughts: “Do you think, Dick, the host spoke true? Are there enemies before us? What think you?” “I think there be two whose words are not to be over-trusted: a woman when she will have a boon of you, and a tavern-keeper when he will have you to tarry in his lodgings.” “Then you believe the host’s talk of Roundheads—”