“Take—you? Scar! No, no; you are too young.”
“I expected to hear you say that, but I shall soon be older; and, though I am only a boy, I could be useful to you in a hundred ways. I suppose I am too young to fight.”
“Yes, yes; of course.”
“Well, others could do the fighting. Couldn’t you make me something—your esquire?”
“Knights do not have esquires now, my boy,” said Sir Godfrey, with a smile; “but—”
He stopped short, while his son gazed at him eagerly, waiting for the end of his speech.
“Yes, father—but—?” said Scarlett, after waiting some time.
“I was only thinking, my son, as to which was my duty—to bid you watch over your mother and sister here, or to devote you to the service of your king.”
“Devote me to the service of my king, father,” cried Scarlett, proudly.
“No, no, my boy,” cried Lady Markham. “Don’t try to stop me, mother,” said Scarlett. “You know I should have to stay here in peace to take care of you who are not in danger; but ought you not rather wish to have me trying to watch over him who will be in the war?”