The physician rose, and Anthony, with an outraged look, took a deprecatory step toward Harry.
"No more, young sir!" quoth the physician, imperatively. "Sir Valentine's life—"
"But that is what I have come to speak of," replied Hal, in some dudgeon. "Zounds, sir, do you know what you hinder? There are concerns you wot not of!"
"Tut, Master Marryott," said Sir Valentine. "As for my life, 'tis best in the doctor's hands; and for concerns, I have none now but my recovery. Not for myself, the blessed Mary knoweth! But for others' sakes, in another land. Oh, to think I should be drawn into an unwilling quarrel, and get this plagued hurt! And mine opponent—hast heard yet how Mr. Hazlehurst fares, Anthony?"
"No, your honor," said the Puritan; but he let his glance fall to the floor as he spoke, and seemed to suffer an inward groan as of self-reproach. Sir Valentine could not see him for the bed-curtains.
"Tis a lesson to shun disputes, boy," said Sir Valentine, to Hal. "Here were my old neighbor's son, young Mr. Hazlehurst, and myself, bare acquaintances, 'tis true, but wishing each other no harm. And two days ago, meeting where the roads crossed, and a foolish question of right of way occurring, he must sputter out hot words at me, and I must chide him as becometh an elder man; and ere I think of consequences, his sword is out, and I have much to do to defend myself! And the end is, each is carried off by servants, with blood flowing; my wound in the groin, his somewhere in the breast. I would fain know how he lies toward recovery! You should have taken pains to inquire, Anthony."
"Sir Valentine," said the physician, "thou art talking too much. Master Marryott, you see how things stand. If you bear Sir Valentine friendship, you have no choice but to go away, sith you have paid your respects. He would have it that you be admitted. Pray, abuse not his courtesy."
"But, sir, that which I must tell him concerns—"
"I'll hear naught that concerns myself," said Sir Valentine, with the childish stubbornness of illness. "Tell me of thine own self, Harry. 'Tis years since I saw thee last, and in that time I've had no word of thee. Didst go to London, and stay there? My letter, it seems, availed thee nothing. How livest thou? What is thy place in the world?"