"I think that I understand, Sir," said I, as gently as might be. "He was your son."
He bent his head. Yet anon shook it, patiently dissenting. "He was my son; the child of my old age. But, to understand, you must first be father to such an one, and outlive him."
Now I was casting about for a word or two of comfort, albeit knowing how idle they needs must be, when I heard a galloping on the drive and my name shouted lustily; and there came riding down to the gate from northward our Colonel Digby, waving a paper in his hand.
"Wyvern!" he called, as he reined up. "I have a favour to ask, and have ridden to ask it in person. Read you this letter; but first mount and ride with me to the ridge."
So I untethered my horse, mounted and rode with him to the ridge.
"Tell me what you see yonder."
I stood up in my stirrups, shading my eyes. "I see," said I, "a troop of horse on the third rise. To all appearance the riders are dressed in white."
"They are in their shirts, the dogs! Now read their challenge: for they attend on our answer."
"Tush!" said I, having glanced over the paper in my hand. 'Twas a foolish challenge, signed by one Straughan, Colonel of Horse in the Parliament forces, and dared us to a combat of cavalry, one hundred upon each side—in shirt and breeches, each man carrying but one pistol besides his sword. "Are we boys, that we should heed such braggart nonsense?"
I heard a chuckle beside me, and looked down to see that old Carminowe had run and caught up with us. He lifted the palm of his hand under which he scanned the foe, and his eyes met mine mockingly.