“Mere words to frighten children. It troubles me not the half as much as his showing me just now that Butler must have borne more northward. Well, let the Irish rogue go hang! We’ll push on as we are and reach Shrewsbury,—some day.—Come up, you crows’ meat!” This to the white horse, whose nose was at its knees. “To-day will be but as yesterday, then, without any danger?” asked Hugh, a thought relieved, yet with room for a feeling of grievous disappointment at being cheated of his looked-for adventure. Strangwayes’ telltale eyes laughed immoderately, though he kept his mouth grave: “You’ll have all the adventures you need, after you reach the king’s army. Still, as I have an honest liking for you, mayhap, if you’re a good lad, I’ll find you one ere we come thither.” Then they fell to speaking of all they would do, when once they were enrolled among his Majesty’s followers, and, what with talking and urging on their laggard horses, they kept themselves employed till past noon. “We’ll bait here,” Strangwayes announced, as rounding a curve they got sight of a tiny hamlet half concealed beneath a hill. “Then we’ll make a long stage this afternoon and sleep the night well within the borders of Shropshire.” At that cheering thought they put the horses to their best pace and clattered through the village street quite gallantly, though there were none to admire them, save a flock of geese, and a foolish-looking girl, who seemed the whole population of the little place. Thus they came to the farther end of the hamlet, where, a bit retired from the neighboring cottages, stood a shabby inn, before which hung a sign-board bearing a faded yellow sheep. “Golden Ram!” Strangwayes translated it. “Mutton would suit me as well!” They rattled into the little inn yard, ducking down in their saddles to save their heads from the bar across the low gateway, and drew rein just in time to avoid riding down a flurried serving-maid. Strangwayes almost fell out of his saddle, so promptly he dismounted to reassure her. “You’re not harmed, my lass?” he asked anxiously, slipping one arm about her as if he expected her to faint, though, from her fine fresh color, that did not seem likely. Hugh had already seen something of his friend’s civilities to barmaids, so he kept to his saddle and felt rather foolish, when suddenly the host, a scrawny man with a lantern face, appeared in the doorway. At sight of him Strangwayes, in his turn, looked a bit foolish, and stepping away from the maid began briskly, “Well, friend, what can you give us to dinner?” There he paused dumfounded, and stared, then cried out: “Heaven keep us! If it be not my constant friend Emry, as busy as ever! Verily, ’tis a true saying that the Lord will not see the righteous forsaken.” “Lieutenant Strangwayes was always a merry gentleman,” Constant-In-Business Emry replied, with a rather dubious countenance.