Hugh stepped over to the bedside. “I have met with Philip Bellasis,” he began quickly, as if he had a lesson he knew must be repeated. “He slandered my father. I gave him the lie. We are to fight with rapiers to-morrow at twilight in the fields toward Osney Abbey.”
Strangwayes was sitting upright in bed now. “You are to fight Bellasis?” he repeated.
Hugh nodded. “Have you the time to come out to the field with me, Dick? George offered, but I’d rather—”
“Did George Allestree suffer you enter on such a quarrel?” There was a sharp, ringing quality in Strangwayes’ voice Hugh had seldom heard.
“Nay, ’tis no fault of George,” he answered quickly, and detailed all that had befallen at the ordinary.
Strangwayes dropped back on his elbow. “Hugh, you fool, you babe!” he broke out, still with that odd quality in his voice. “That scoundrel trapped you deliberately; he durst not meet your father again; he tried to trap you, and you suffered him!”
“I could do nothing else,” Hugh answered.
“Well, get to bed now,” Strangwayes said in his kindest tone. “You must have all the rest you can before you go to spit our friend Philip.”
Lying down obediently, Hugh stared at the moonlight creeping along the floor, and listened to the watch that paced the street below. Strangwayes at his side breathed uneasily and once or twice turned somewhat; but Hugh lay quiet till his opened eyes ached and were heavy, and he slept a sleep full of dreams.
When he came broad awake again there was chilly daylight in the room, and Strangwayes was up and half dressed. “What sort of day is it?” Hugh asked.