"You will give me your name?" asked the other, eagerly. "I wish it, that I may know to whom I am beholden for so much generosity." "Very generous on your part to say say I am Sir Richard Walwyn." "Ah! A relative of the Scudamores, are you not?" "A distant relative. But I've not seen any of them lately, having just come back from the Low Countries, where I've been fighting a bit. In better practice from that, with my hand still in, which may account for my having got the better of you," and he again laughed lightly. The young Cavalier protested against the generous admission, and then went on to say he knew the Scudamores well--especially Lord Scudamore, of Holme Lacey. "I've often met his lordship at the Palace," was the concluding remark. "At what palace, pray?" inquired Sir Richard. "Oh! Whitehall. I did not think of specifying." "Which proves that you yourself come from it? One of the King's people, I take it; or in the Queen's service, more like?" "I was, but not now. I've been at Court for the last few months in the capacity of gentleman-usher." "And now? But I crave pardon. It is rude of me to cross-question you thus." "Not at all, Sir Richard. You have every right. After being so frank with me, I owe you equal frankness. I've given up the appointment I held at Court, and am now on my way home--to my father's house in Monmouthshire." "Your father is--?" "Sir William Trevor." "Ah! now I can understand why your blood boiled up at my strenuous defence of the Parliament--the son of Sir William Trevor. But we won't enter upon politics again. After blows, words are inadmissible, as ungracious. Your father's house is near Abergavenny, if I remember rightly?" "It is." "That's good twenty-seven miles from here. You don't purpose going on there to-night?" "No; I intend putting up for the night at Monmouth." "Well, that's within the possibilities; but not with daylight, unless you press your horse hard--and he looks rather jaded." "No wonder. I've ridden him all the way from Witney, in Oxfordshire, since six this morning." "He must be good stuff to stand it, and show the spirit he did just now. But for all he seems rather badly done up--another reason for my having got the better of you." At this both smiled, the young Cavalier, as before, refusing to accept the complimentary acknowledgment. "A pity," ran on Sir Richard, "to press the poor animal farther to night--that is, so far as Monmouth. It's all of ten miles yet, and the road difficult--pitches up and down. You should rest him nearer, by way of reward for his noble performance of the day." "Indeed, I was thinking of it; had half made up my mind to sleep at Coleford." "Ah! you mus'n't stop at Coleford, much less sleep there." "And why not?"