He placed them on the table as Strangwayes looked up from finishing the letter. He, too, said nothing, but his mouth was set in a hard line under his mustache. “I’ll write an answer,” Hugh said quietly, as he seated himself.
“Will you not ride back to the city with me, sir?” Ridydale put in eagerly.
Hugh was silent a moment while he adjusted his paper and pen, then replied: “I am not coming to the city with you. Moreover, Corporal Ridydale, if you ever again mention unto me one word of Captain Gwyeth, I’ll have no more dealings with you.”
Then he turned resolutely to his task and wrote his answer, slowly, for he was an unhandy penman, and he wished the letter to be quite dignified in neatness.
Worthy Sir:
When we parted at Shrewsbury perhaps you may remember I said to you that you had no right to lay a command upon me. Since that time you have done naught to get you the right; by your will I am no son of yours. Yet so long as I bear the name of Gwyeth it is my part to defend that name from any slander. Therefore I did enter on a quarrel with the one who defamed my family. The quarrel is now mine and I shall pursue it to the end. Though I have been flogged by your troopers, I have some notion of what becomes a gentleman of honor. Such a gentleman as my mother would wish me to be does not suffer another to undertake his defence.
Your obedient servant,
Hugh Gwyeth.
He chose his words deliberately; it was amazing how ready they were to his hand, now that he had come to the realization that Alan Gwyeth had used him with brutal unjustness.
He folded the paper carefully. “Here, take it, Ridydale,” he ordered. “But remember, I’ve no quarrel with you, Corporal. You have been a good friend to me, and I’d still keep you so. Only never another mention of Captain Gwyeth.”