"John, sir," he returned astonished.
"And the rest—the rest, sir," added his uncle abruptly.
John troubled by the soldier's impatient tones said: "Penhallow, sir." He was near to a too emotional display.
"And you, John Penhallow, my brother's son, were afraid?"
"I was." It was only in part true. His mother had forbidden the master to remount him.
"By George!" said Penhallow angrily, "I don't believe you, I can't!"
John rose, "I may be a coward, Uncle James, but I never lie."
Penhallow stood up, "I beg your pardon, John."
"Oh! no, Uncle James. I—please not." He felt as if the tall soldier was humiliating himself, but could not have put it in words.
"I was hasty, my boy. You must, of course, learn to ride. By the way, do you ever read the papers?"