“In her present abode she is little like to need protection from villainous assaults such as yours, sir,” he said, with that sudden fiery vehemence which comes with startling force now and then from the most self-controlled men.
“Ha!” said, Norton, with his short, harsh laugh. “I have no doubt you stowed her away very conveniently in the godly city of Gloucester, where, doubtless, all men are saints. Beggarly hypocrites that you are! But the King will soon triumph now, and I ask nothing better than to have the privilege of hanging you, you Puritan mongrel!”
“The King’s cause is ill served, sir, by such words,” said Dick, angrily. “You, perhaps, do not understand that Lieutenant Harford bears a letter from Sir Ralph Hopton, and cannot take up a personal quarrel.”
Norton burst into loud laughter.
“Bless you, my children!” he exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with genuine merriment. “’Twas precisely the name of this gentleman that I wished to discover—do not let me detain you longer now, Mr. Harford, we shall meet again, for I never allow myself to be baulked.”
With a derisive smile he returned to the alehouse, and Dick Heyworth rode on for a little way with his new friend.
“That fellow has a bitter grudge against you and my brother,” he said. “You had best beware of him, for he sticks at nothing. ’Tis men of that make who are the ruin of His Majesty’s Army.”
“But, on the other hand, you have men like my Lord Falkland and Sir Ralph Hopton and Sir Bevil Granville,” said Gabriel, his chivalrous nature readily sympathising with what was passing in his companion’s mind. “And, as you may guess, we have not a few narrow-minded zealots and fanatics who are ill to work with.”
“True, men like that Original Sin Smith that played Joscelyn false at Farnham,” said Dick, “Indeed, I think you are right, such a fellow revolts one even more than Colonel Norton, being both villain and hypocrite.”
Then, entrusting Gabriel with a letter for his brother, and many last messages, Dick Heyworth returned to Wells, and Gabriel rode back to Waller’s headquarters, his mind full of Sir Ralph Hopton’s last words, “We will part as enemies that may live to be friends.” If only Hilary would have given him as much comfort as that, how hopefully would he have faced the bitterness of this heart-rending strife!