Cuthbert complied, and Sir John spurred his horse and galloped along the lower road; even then, by cutting across a shoulder of the hill, the Gubbings, as Cuthbert called them, gained upon them and shot two or three useless arrows, and then they could do no more, for the road lay straight forward, and they had no further advantage. After a little while Sir John said-- “I think we may now take our ease; thou hast saved my life, lad, and I shall not forget it. What is thy name?” “Cuthbert Trevannion; and thine, sir?” The rider started perceptibly as he heard the name, and Cuthbert noticed it. After a moment he said, with emphasis-- “Sir John Redfyrne, a poor knight of his sacred majesty’s household.” Cuthbert remembered the name too well, and his earnest desire was to get away without any further revelations. “I have lately come from Glastonbury,” said Sir John; “dost thou know the place?” Cuthbert could not lie. “I have been there,” he said. “There was some talk of a lad of thy name when I first knew the town, who was educated at the Abbey.” “It may be, sir; but see, that road will take me home, and there is no danger now; may I dismount?” “Not just yet; here is a roadside inn, thou must at least grace me with thy presence over a cup of sack.” “But my father will be uneasy.” “I will answer for him.” Not to increase Sir John’s suspicions, Cuthbert dismounted at the inn, and allowed himself to be led into a private chamber. Sir John waited for a moment, and descended the stairs. “Dost thou know that youth?” he asked of the landlord. “The son of Sir Walter Trevannion.” “He lives near here?” “Yes, at Trevannion Hall.” He returned to Cuthbert. “My lad,” he said, “I owe thee many thanks, and grieve that I may not stay longer to repay them than suffices to discuss this sack; my road now lies to Moreton, and I shall soon have quitted these parts; perhaps I may call some future day upon thy father, who, I hear, lives near, to thank thee in his presence.” “I may go then, sir?” “With my best thanks; nay, wear this chain as a memento of the giver and the Gubbings; fare thee well.” And Cuthbert hastened home. But Sir John remained yet a little while, seated in the saddle, as he made several innocent enquiries of the landlord. And they were all about Trevannion Hall. FOOTNOTES [29] Read “The Andredsweald,” by the same Author. (Parker’s Oxford.) [30] See Note J. The Gubbings. CHAPTER III. _AN ACT OF GRATITUDE._