“So Nat gets all the glory and Enderwood is excused for being behind,” thought Rodney, not altogether pleased, and he scarcely heard the old darky saying by way of apology: “I suttinly hab no ’scuse on ’count o’ hoss. Don’ put no nose front o’ yo’, Moleskin,” he said, patting the sleek neck of the fiery hunter he rode. “I’se ’lowin’ Tom’s room’s better’n his comp’ny, an’ was sojerin’ along. But I’se boun’ ter say, Marse Rodney, I couldn’ done better myse’f.”
“That’s Rodney’s way of doing things, you know, Tom,” said Lisbeth, and the boy’s feelings were somewhat soothed by the balm in her words. “Having rescued the maid,” she said, turning to him, “it’s now your duty to return with her to the castle, and explain to her papa that it was none of her fault, and afford us all opportunity to thank you properly, while Aunt Betty gets out her bandages.”
“I thank you, but, you see, I’ve made arrangements to stay over the night at Roscomes’ and they are expecting me. I supped there and then thought I wanted to see the view from the hill, once more. Now I must return.”
“So you were going through Pryndale without calling on your old friends.”
“I shall be most happy to call on the morrow if I may be permitted,” was Rodney’s response, and he was really surprised at his ready reply.
“We ought to ride as far as Roscomes’ with him,” said Lisbeth, and, because of the dusk, they could not see how pale and drawn was her face.
“Those villains will have no stomach for further trouble, I reckon, and I’m sure you need Aunt Betty and the bandages more than I do the escort. I hope to see you in the morning, none the worse for to-night’s experience. Good night,” saying which, he rode on to Roscome’s. His mind was in a whirl and, now the danger and excitement were past, he felt very weak, and trembled when he thought of Lisbeth’s peril; yet he was conscious that he had borne himself well. Then he fell to wondering who young Enderwood might be. Rodney had only seen in the dim light that he was young, not much older than himself, and apparently a gentleman. Enderwood? Why, he must be Squire Enderwood’s son, from Norfolk. If so, he had both family and fortune, and somehow the idea didn’t please Rodney, though why should he begrudge young Enderwood such an inheritance?
The following morning Rodney set out for “The Hall.” He felt he could ill spare the time but nevertheless was glad of the opportunity, though he dreaded the meeting with the squire. His father might be alive at that moment but for the injustice of Lisbeth’s father.