Hugh, who sat in his shirt-sleeves swinging his legs on the back of the horse, merely laughed and drew his left hand up and down his spare, sinewy right arm. He had grown a little that winter, and he was beginning also to learn the power that was latent in each muscle. Just now he was thinking to himself that if it ever came again to rough and tumble hand-grips with Peregrine Oldesworth, such as they had had in the days at Everscombe, his cousin would not be quite so sure of the mastery.
Aside from the fact that he was still an uncommissioned volunteer, Hugh’s only quarrel with his busy life that winter was that he saw little of Dick Strangwayes. His friend’s chamber and purse were at his disposal, but his time Strangwayes himself was not master of; not only did his duties in the troop require him, but he had in the city and in the colleges many friends to whom he gave much of himself. Hugh valued the more the moments he had with his comrade at their chamber, and, for the rest, sought himself companionship where he could. Frank, too, had associates of his own, for whom Hugh had no great affection, so as a last choice he resorted to George Allestree, who showed his friendship by introducing him to all the taverns and ordinaries in the city. It was Allestree, too, who, when he found Hugh took in great seriousness his intention of becoming a soldier, unearthed a fat book, “The Soldier’s Grammar and Accidence,” by one Gervase Markham, and told the boy he would get from that all the theory of war he wanted. “I’ll read it speedily and return it to you, George,” Hugh said gratefully.
“Prithee, don’t hurry yourself,” Allestree answered quickly. “Ten years hence is quite soon enough for my needs.”
Indeed, Hugh did not find Gervase Markham exciting reading, but, to the silent enjoyment of Strangwayes, he dutifully labored through his pages. He was hard at work on Markham one morning, with his chin on one fist and his elbow on the table. Only his eyes were not on the book, but ranging out at the casement, for it was in early February and the sky was blue, and Hugh was thinking how the buds would be bursting soon on the beeches in the park at Everscombe.
“Did you note the Worcestershire parson who sat at our table last night?” suddenly spoke Strangwayes, who was shaving at the little mirror between the windows.
“Frank said he was an old tutor whom Sir William held in much respect,” Hugh answered, bringing his gaze back to the room.
“Well, he was set next Captain Gwyeth, and I was the other side, so I enjoyed their discourse. It seems the parson was much attracted by you.” Strangwayes tipped his head on one side while he scraped the razor along his cheek, and spoke disjointedly. “Something, either the way you thrust up that square chin of yours, or your pretty habit of not speaking to your elders unless they address you,—except in my case, for you constantly fail in respect to me,—well, you much pleased the gentleman, so he asked the captain your name. And the captain told him. ‘Your son, sir?’ says he, and falls to congratulating the captain on your fine bearing and—nay, I’ll spare you. But I’m thinking Captain Gwyeth did not relish his supper.” There was an instant’s pause while Strangwayes, with his head thrown back, shaved warily beneath his chin; then he laid down the razor and faced about. “Will you believe it, Hugh?” he said, in something between jest and seriousness, “I’m thinking if you should go very humbly, hat in hand, to the captain and say, ‘Sir, I bore myself very frowardly and peevishly toward you, but now I am ready to submit me,’ I’m thinking he would rate you soundly and—henceforth maintain you himself.”
“Doubtless he will,—when I go unto him so,” Hugh said shortly.
Strangwayes laughed a little, then fell to talking of indifferent matters, while he put on his coat and fastened his belt. “I saw Phil Bellasis in the city yesterday,” he ended. “Perhaps to even matters he’s looking for Captain Gwyeth now.”
“I should think one lesson would suffice for him,” Hugh replied; and then, as Dick tramped away, turned his attention again to Gervase Markham.