The full mug of ale suddenly went crashing and slopping to the floor. “If I were the Creator and had men to make,” said Strangwayes, down on his knees among the fragments, “I’d make men without elbows, at least without such elbows as mine. Come aid me, you lazy fellow.”
Hugh obediently began mopping up the spilt ale, but Strangwayes did not stay to help him. He was speaking with Frank over by the window, and Hugh just caught something like, “If you don’t hold your foolish tongue, I’ll cuff your head off.”
In any case, when Hugh rose to his feet he found Frank very subdued. “’Twas my father sent me hither,” he began, with a little trace of sullenness. “He said if you really had it in mind to fight, you were best slip out of the town early. The matter has got abroad, and the provost may send to apprehend you just for accepting the challenge.”
“Then we’ll disappoint the provost,” said Strangwayes. “I’ve sent to the stable already to have our horses brought round. Clap into your boots, Hugh, but bring your shoes along. You can’t fight with a ton of leather about your heels.”
“Is there aught I can lend you, Hugh?” asked Frank, studying his friend with interested eyes.
“I’m well enough,” Hugh answered cheerfully. “Dick is going to let me use his rapier.”
“Can’t I come out to the field with you?” Frank begged. “Oh, I’ll not speak a word, Dick, and I’ll do whatever you may tell me.”
“If a second man came it would have to be Allestree,” answered Strangwayes. “Better go back to quarters now, Frank. Tell Sir William we thank him for his warning, and I have taken a day’s leave of absence.”
But as Strangwayes was edging him toward the door Frank dodged by him and ran back to Hugh. “Good luck to you,” he said, putting his arms round Hugh and kissing him. “And—and God keep you.”
Then he clattered out and down the stairs, and Hugh, for a moment, neither looked at Dick nor spoke.