Never did I see Ludar so noble a man as during those gloomy months. Never once did he waver in his loyalty to his father; never once did he suffer a word to be said to rebuke the old man’s harshness; never once did he complain if more than a common soldier’s hardships, with a common soldier’s fare, fell to his lot; never once would he allow the men, who were ready to die for him, raise a shout when he came among them, or even salute him in his father’s presence. He took his punishment as beseemed a hero; and it was the hard work and stern discipline of those few months, I think, which braced him up once again into his former manhood and brought back the glow into his cheeks and the fire into his eyes.
Concerning the maiden he spake not a word; nor would he suffer me to speak of her. Only when the English fellow returned who had escorted her to her father did Ludar order him back, charging him to look to her safety as he valued his own life; which charge the faithful fellow cheerfully accepted, and departed.
Of all his trials, this journey of submission to Dublin was the bitterest to Ludar; and I, as I walked at his heels that day in Dublin city, could see that every step was a pang. The old man chose to bring Ludar and not his elder brothers for this very reason; and never a duty taxed the lad’s courage and loyalty more.
So to me the pleasure of marching once again under the royal flag of my Queen was tempered by the concern I felt for my master.
A vast rabble lined the roads to see the doughty Sorley Boy—the hero of the North, against whose arms England had fought in vain—march thus, to the tune of English trumpets, to her Majesty’s Castle. But if any looked to see a hanging head or a meek demeanour they were sore mistaken. For, as the procession moved on and the shouts grew louder, the spirit seemed to come back into the old warrior, and he walked rather as one who marches to war than to peace. Perhaps, had the way been a mile longer, or had the smirking Lord Deputy looked round oftener, this notable treaty would never have come about; for, by the time Sorley Boy reached the Castle gate, he was glaring round him defiantly, and the hilt of his sword was an inch out of the scabbard.
At the gate the Deputy stood and bade him enter. The old fox gave a suspicious look round, like one that suspects a trap, and then beckoned to Ludar.
“Stay here with the men. Let your squire follow me.”
So Ludar stayed with the McDonnells at the gate, while I followed Sorley Boy, amid shouts and flourish of trumpets, into the Castle. All was prepared to do the old Chief honour. Attendants bowed, guards saluted, and my Lord Deputy’s womenkind waved handkerchiefs from the windows. Sir John Perrott himself, all smiles, chatted affably. But never a word spake Sorley Boy.
He stalked on at a pace which made the Deputy trot at his side, and, heedless of lackeys, guards, ladies and all else, flung into the great hall.
I followed as in duty bound; and beside me no man but Sir John and Sir John’s secretary.