Hugh forced a desperate laugh that ended in a choke.
“And I’ve another piece of news for you,” Strangwayes went on, sitting down beside him. “Now you can take it as good or bad, which you please. I’m not resolved yet myself. You’ll recollect Peyton was shot at Edgehill, and we lost many men from the regiment. Well, they’ve taken another troop that suffered much and used it to fill up the place. And a new captain has been put over it under Sir William.”
“Is it you, Dick?” Hugh asked.
“Nay,” Strangwayes answered, with a chuckle; “’tis a one time independent colonel, Alan Gwyeth.”
CHAPTER XII
FOR THE HONOR OF THE GWYETHS
“You’re free to take it as you choose, good or ill,” Strangwayes went on; “but I can tell you Colonel Gwyeth is in no two minds about it.”
“I am sorry for him,” Hugh answered, after an instant. “I know it does wring a man to lose a commission out of his very hands.”
“Since I must steer to the windward of hypocrisy, I am not sorry for him,” Strangwayes returned. “And do not you worry yourself over his broken spirit, Hugh; so far he has borne up stoutly. At the last report he was ranging about with his sword at ready, bent on scoring out all his wrongs upon Master Philip Bellasis.”
“Philip Bellasis?” queried Hugh, struggling to recall what that name stood for. “What has he to do in this matter?”
“The simplicity of untutored youth!” Strangwayes’ voice came pityingly. “Why, ’tis clear as most logic: my Lord Bellasis of the king’s council disapproves of these small independent troops, and has given his voice loudest, ’tis said, for merging Gwyeth’s horse into Sir William’s regiment; ergo, Colonel Gwyeth has taken my Lord Bellasis into his hatred. My Lord Bellasis is blessed with the gout; ergo, Colonel Gwyeth, not to waste so precious a commodity as hatred upon a disabled man, transfers all his intentions to my lords swashbuckling son Philip. For, granting the colonel’s temper, he must fight something now, and he would vastly prefer something of the name of Bellasis.”