Rupert went indoors at last, and met Sir Jasper at the stairfoot.
“Why, lad, I thought you were in bed long since.”
“I could not rest indoors, sir. I—I needed room.”
“We’re all of the same breed,” laughed his father. “House-walls never yet helped a man to peace. Good-night, my lad—and remember you’re on guard here.”
CHAPTER IV
THE LOYAL MEET
Two days later Sir Jasper and Maurice sat at breakfast. There was a meet of hounds that morning, and, because the hour was early, Lady Royd was not down to share the meal. It was cold enough after full sunrise, she was wont to say, with her lazy, laughing drawl, and not the most devoted wife could be expected to break her fast by candlelight.
Sir Jasper, for his part, ate with appetite this morning. The unrest of the past weeks had been like a wind from the north to him, sharpening his vigour, driving out the little weaknesses and doubts bred of long inaction. And, as he ate, old Simon Foster, his man-of-all-work, opened the door and put in the grizzled head which reminded his master always of a stiff broom that had lately swept the snow.
“Here’s Maister Oliphant,” said Simon gruffly. “Must I let him in?”