TWO days later Sir Jasper and Maurice sat at breakfast. There was a meet of hounds that morning, and, because the hour was early, Lady Royd was not down to share the meal. It was cold enough after full sunrise, she was wont to say, with her lazy, laughing drawl, and not the most devoted wife could be expected to break her fast by candlelight. Sir Jasper, for his part, ate with appetite this morning. The unrest of the past weeks had been like a wind from the north to him, sharpening his vigour, driving out the little weaknesses and doubts bred of long inaction. And, as he ate, old Simon Foster, his man-of-all-work, opened the door and put in the grizzled head which reminded his master always of a stiff broom that had lately swept the snow. “Here’s Maister Oliphant,” said Simon gruffly. “Must I let him in?” “Indeed you must,” laughed Oliphant, putting him aside and stepping into the room. “My business will not wait, Sir Jasper, though Simon here is all for saying that it crosses you to be disturbed at breakfast-time.” The two men glanced quickly at each other. “You’re looking in need of a meal yourself, Oliphant. Sit down, man, and help us with this dish of devilled kidneys.” Oliphant, long ago, had learned to take opportunity as it came; and meals, no less than his chances of passing on the messages entrusted to him, were apt to prove haphazard and to be seized at once. Old Simon, while they ate, hovered up and down the room, eager for the news, until his master dismissed him with a curt “You may leave us, Simon.” Simon obeyed, but he closed the door with needless violence; and they could hear him clattering noisily down the passage, as if he washed his hands of the whole Rising business. “_You may leave us, Simon!_” he growled. “That’s all Sir Jasper has to say, after I’m worn to skin and bone in serving him. And he must know by this time, surely, that he allus gets into scrapes unless I’m nigh-handy, like, to advise him what to do. Eh, well, maisters is maisters, and poor serving-men is serving-men, and so ’twill be till th’ end o’ the chapter, I reckon. But I wish I knew what Maister Oliphant rade hither-till to tell Sir Jasper.” Oliphant looked across at his host, after Simon’s heavy footfalls told them he was out of earshot. “The hunt comes this way, Sir Jasper, with hounds in full cry. I see you’re dressed for the chase.” “And have been since--since I was breeked, I think. When, Oliphant? It seems too good to be true. All Lancashire is asking when, and I’m tired of telling them to bide until they hear Tally-ho go sounding up the moors.” “You start at dawn to-morrow. Ride into Langton, and wait till you see the hounds in full view.” “And the scent--how does it lie, Oliphant?” “Keen and true, sir. I saw one near the Throne three days ago, and he said that he had never known a blither hunting-time.”