'Dismount on this side then,' said Richard, regardless of the insult.
But the warder had caught the word.
'Roundhead!' he exclaimed.
Scudamore did not answer until he found himself safe on his feet, and by that time he had recovered his good manners.
'This is young Mr. Heywood of Redware,' he said, and moved towards the wicket, leaning on Richard's arm.
But the old warder stepped in front, and stood between them and the gate.
'Not a damned roundhead of the pack shall set foot across this door-sill, so long as I hold the gate,' he cried, with a fierce gesture of the right arm. And therewith he set his back to the wicket.
'Tut, tut, Eccles!' returned Scudamore impatiently. 'Good words are worth much, and cost little.'
'If the old dog bark, he gives counsel,' rejoined Eccles, immovable.
Heywood was amused, and stood silent, waiting the result. He had no particular wish to enter, and yet would have liked to see what could be seen of the court.