The long piece of woodland ended at last, and across the fields the roofs of a village came in sight. To the left horses grazing in a meadow whickered to the passing chargers, and then the riders trotted slowly in among the houses. There was a smith’s shop, Hugh remembered, about which lounged men in great boots and buff jackets, and before the village inn were more in the same attire. Hugh reined up there, scarcely knowing what he purposed, but before he could dismount a young man with long light brown hair, who wore a scarlet sash across his jacket, advanced from the inn door. “King’s men?” the stranger asked. “Why, what has befallen here?” Strangwayes raised his chin a trifle, then his head sank again. “Who commands?” he asked faintly. “Captain Dennis Butler.” “Tell him, Richard Strangwayes seeks him. He—” There the voice trailed off inaudibly. Hugh leaned a little from his saddle and got his arm about his friend. Men were hurrying forward curiously, but of a sudden they drew aside to make way for a thick-set officer with a black beard, who came striding through their midst. “On my soul, ’tis Dicky Strangwayes!” he cried, halting at the injured man’s stirrup. “Gad, but you’re come in good time! We can give you a bottle of Burgundy to crack or a rebel throat to cut—” “Ah, Captain, if you’ll give me a bed, I ask nothing else of you,” Strangwayes gasped out, and pitched forward, half into Butler’s arms. They had him off the horse and two of the troopers carried him into the house, so speedily that Hugh got only a glimpse of his friend’s deathlike face. He jumped down, intent on following, but the youngish officer with the light hair, paying him no heed, walked away and left him to the curious troopers. They asked him many questions touching Strangwayes and how he had been hurt, which Hugh, with eyes on the door by which his comrade had disappeared, could only answer disjointedly. Presently a man came out and, saying that Guidon Allestree had so ordered it, led the black and the bay off to be groomed and fed. Still unbidden Hugh followed into the stable yard, where, sitting down on the shaft of a cart, he stared at the inn till he knew every angle of its timbered roof. He realized vaguely that men passed him by, and one group, loafing near at hand in the shelter of a shed, he heard talking loudly together. Once, when they were complaining of the lack of liquor at this tavern, he was aware that one grumbled, “No wonder; Gwyeth’s men lay here yesternight.” Even that seemed not to be personal to Hugh, and he still sat staring at the blank inn windows, while he wondered to what room they had carried Strangwayes. At last he could endure the suspense no longer, but taking his courage in his hand walked into the house, where, halfway up the stairs, he met the light-haired man. “I pray you, may I not see Master Strangwayes?” Hugh blurted out his business at once.