Then it was as if Sir Godfrey’s command had had its effect upon all present, for they gazed straight at each other, Nat and Samson with the look of a couple of angry dogs waiting to be let loose and fight; the two lads in a puzzled manner, as if ready to shake hands, and held back by some invisible chain; and their fathers with a haughty look of anger and disdain.
Sir Godfrey was the first to speak in a stern tone of voice, as he looked straight in Colonel Forrester’s eyes.
“May I ask, sir,” he said, “in which direction you are going?”
“No, sir,” was the calm reply. “You have no right to make such a demand.”
“Then I will address you in a more friendly spirit, Colonel Forrester. The road here to the east leads towards the king’s followers—the gentry of the west who are gathering together beneath his banner to put an end to the disorder and anarchy now running riot through the land. You will, I presume, as a loyal gentleman, join us, and we can ride together.”
“Is this banter or earnest, Sir Godfrey?” replied the colonel, as the two boys sat with their ears tingling.
“Earnest, Colonel Forrester. What other course could I expect an officer to take?”
“Then, if it be in earnest, sir—no; I ride not with you to help to bolster up a tyranny which makes every true man in England blush for his country.”
“Colonel Forrester!”
“Sir Godfrey Markham!”