“And you’ve found it?” The smile on the dark face suggested a scornful doubt which almost made an answer unnecessary.
“Not yet.”
“It would have moved my wonder if you had. It was a rashness to have returned at all.” He lowered his voice, lest he should be overheard. “The climate of England isn’t healthy at all to old soldiers of the Parliament.”
“Yet you are here, Ned.”
“I?” Again that slow, half-scornful smile lighted the grave, handsome face. He shrugged. He leaned towards Holles, and dropped his voice still further. “My father was not a regicide,” he said quietly. “Therefore, I am comparatively obscure.”
Holles looked at him, the eager pleasure which the meeting had brought him withering in his face. Would men ever keep green the memory of this thing and of the silly tie with which they had garnished it? Must it ever prove an insuperable obstacle to him in Stuart England?
“Nay, nay, never look so glum, man,” Tucker laughed, and he took the Colonel by the arm. “Let us go somewhere where we can talk. We should have a deal to tell each other.”
Holles swung him round.
“Come to the Paul’s Head,” he bade him. “I am lodged there.”
But the other hung back, hesitating a moment. “My own lodging is near at hand in Cheapside,” he said, and they turned about again.