“Right,” he cried. “Miles, a soldier. Mistress Forrester, I congratulate you on your home and surroundings. And now, pardon my frankness, I have travelled far to-day and I journey far to-morrow, I am a-hungered and a-thirst, madam; and afterwards, as your good husband and tried soldier and I have done our business, I shall be glad to press a pleasant west-country bed.”
With winning courtesy, but at the same time with a half-shrinking, troubled look in her eyes, Mistress Forrester led the way to the table, and as soon as he was seated the guest seemed to cast off his imperious military manner, and become the courtly scholarly gentleman who had read much, travelled far, and thought deeply. So pleasant and interesting was his conversation that Fred grew more and more attracted by him, and listened with wide-open eyes to all he said.
Only once did the business-like, firm and decisive officer appear after supper, when he suddenly apologised and rose.
“I have an old-fashioned way of looking after my best friends, Mistress Forrester,” he said. “At the present moment, on this journey, my horse is one of my best friends. You will excuse my visiting him?”
“If you will trust me, Captain Miles,” said Colonel Forrester, placing some emphasis on the name, “I can promise you that your good horse has everything that will help him to make a long journey to-morrow.”
“I do trust you, Forrester,” said the visitor, smiling. “I would I had ten men like you, and as worthy of trust.”
As he spoke, he subsided into his chair, but Fred was already on his legs.
“I’ll go and see after the horse,” he said.
The visitor gave him a kindly approving nod, and the boy left the room.
“How old is he, Mistress Forrester?” he said.