When the door closed behind the Prince, the Colonel whispered in my ear, "Slip off and tell Freake!"
I did the journey at a run, and found Master Freake sitting, quietly meditative, but booted and spurred for his journey.
"Well, Oliver?"
"We go back to-night."
In five minutes I was standing in the Ironmarket at his grey mare's head.
"I'm not deserting you, lad," said he, gripping my hand heartily.
"Of course not, sir. Good-bye, and good luck!"
"My love to Margaret. Look out for the sergeant. Good-bye!"