“Take the gentleman’s horse,” said Gabriel, turning to one of the grinning ostlers, and then stepping forward he greeted the newcomer courteously.
“I have a letter from Sir Ralph Hopton, and am to place it in Sir William Waller’s own hands,” said the young officer. “Is he within?”
Something in his voice and face seemed curiously familiar, and as Gabriel led him to the General’s room he could not resist hazarding a question.
“An I mistake not, sir, you must be a kinsman of Captain Heyworth?”
The young officer laughed.
“Truth! I myself am Captain Heyworth—Richard Heyworth of Shortell. Tell me, is my brother Joscelyn here?”
“Unfortunately not. He hath three weeks’ leave, and hath gone to London on business.”
“A curse on my ill-luck!” said Dick Heyworth. “I made sure I should have seen him here.”
He seemed so grievously disappointed that Gabriel felt the more drawn to him and announcing “Captain Heyworth,” watched the General’s surprise and perplexity as the visitor entered the room. Waller signed to him to remain in attendance, and put one or two rapid questions to Richard Heyworth.
“I sent a letter to Sir Ralph Hopton after the fray at Chewton Mendip by the hands of Mr. Reginald Powell—a prisoner we had taken—did it reach him safely?”