UNDER HONOUR'S FLAG
CHAPTER I A STRANGE AFFAIR
The late autumn afternoon was rapidly drawing in, closing ominously and sullenly, as if rebelling against the approach of the winter, and the nearer coming of the night.
Great banks of purple vapour rose in the west; and sinking towards the earth, spread abroad in hazy wreaths, which seemed to possess, in a fainter degree, the hues of their parent clouds above.
The air was heavy with moisture, which condensed and dripped from the red leaves of the sycamore, the brown of the beech, and the yellow of lime and poplar. It glistened on the rich green of the crimson-berried hollies; it begemmed the festooning webs of the weaving spiders; and brought with it a chilling breath which seemed to strike through one.
In that gloaming hour a man and youth toiled wearily up the steep hill over which the main road runs before it descends into the quaint old town of Stow Ormond; yet as they reached the summit they hastened their steps, with the air of those who were drawing near to a welcome resting-place.
The man was tall and refined-looking; and though a crisp, curling beard and full moustache hid the greater part of his face, the features visible revealed determination and strong will, and their bronzed hue showed plainly that their owner had lived beneath warmer skies than those of England. And yet, despite health and good looks and strength of will, an expression of anxiety was there; and as he walked along he appeared to be more occupied with his own thoughts than in attending to the remarks of the lad by his side, whose questions he frequently left unanswered.
The boy was so like the man that there could be little room for doubting that they were father and son; a well-built, handsome youth, with the same bronzed cheek, but with an expression on his face which indicated the utmost disgust with his surroundings. This was his first experience of a damp, chill autumn mist, and he did not like it in the least.