"A little philosopher already, Mr. Berkeley," said my lord, smiling at the child. "Well, well, my little fellow, be a good man; not even the Queen could wish you better than that."
"'Tis the children's bed hour, my lord," said Mistress Berkeley. "I pray you excuse me."
As mother and children left the room, Sherebiah, who as butler at Winton Hall had settled down as a very comfortable man of peace, entered with a tray on which were silver tankards of mulled wine. The good fellow looked not a day older than when he had led Katrinka to the altar six years before. He placed the tray on a table and silently withdrew. The guests sipped the grateful liquor and sat in tired silence gazing into the fire.
Presently Mistress Berkeley returned.
"Supper is served, my lords," she said.
"A sweet word to famished men."
The duke offered her his arm and led the way to the supper room, followed by Lord Godolphin and Harry. At the table he kept up an animated conversation with his hostess, yielding as all men did to the charm of a rarely gracious personality. Lord Godolphin was as little inclined to talk as to eat. When the cloth was removed, and Sherebiah had placed bottles on the table and left the gentlemen to themselves, Marlborough crossed his knees and said:
"Egad, Mr. Berkeley, you are a lucky man, with such a wife and such children. We could not have fared more happily—eh, my lord?"
"Nay indeed," replied Godolphin, thawing a little. "We could never have reached Wilton to-night. The wind, hark you, is gaining in fury—a sorry night for travellers."
"Ay; that poor wretch at Basingstoke is well quit of his troubles. A sad case, Mr. Berkeley; but too common, I fear. 'Twas a broken soldier; they had clapt him in the stocks as a vagrant; never in my life saw I a more piteous object. He was outside the inn, and hailed me as we alighted to dine and change horses. Had fought at Blenheim, he told me, captain in a Hanoverian regiment, Aglionby by name, and lately returned from the Indies. We had him released; but the poor fellow was even worse than he seemed; for he died of a sudden before we left the inn. He was on his way to this very village to see a cousin, I bethink me he said. 'Tis thus we serve the men who have fought our battles."