“Then I have your leave, sir?” I asks him, abusing myself inwardly for my deceit, now as it was for his own sake.
“Oh, take it, nephew,” he answers. “Take it, by all means.” He turned himself to the fire and tapped his stick impatiently on the hearth. “I am disappointed in thee, Dick,” he says, presently. “’Slife, what are all the young men coming to? Had it been Alison, now—what art loitering there for?” he screams. “Get thee ready, boy—get thee ready and go—go! We are going to have war and bloodshed—thou wilt faint if the scullery-wench gets her finger pricked!”
So it came about that within the hour my horse stood saddled and bridled in the courtyard and I was ready to depart. I went in to say farewell to my uncle and found him cold and ceremonious.
“I wish thee a safe journey, nephew,” says he. “When it will be possible to ask thee to visit me again is more than I can say, seeing that the times are so troublous. Hold—here is money in this purse—”
“Dear sir,” says I. “I am already furnished through your generosity, and shall want for nought yet awhile.”
He stared at me, and then returned the purse to his drawer, from which he took out a sealed packet.
“You ride south, nephew?” says he, “Be good enough to call at my brother French’s house as you go towards Doncaster, and deliver this letter to your cousin.” He put the packet into my hand. He looked at me narrowly. “By God, Dick!” he says, suddenly, losing his politeness, “I never thought to see the day when a Coope would run away from a bit o’ fighting. Get thee gone—get thee gone, boy!”
So I was perforce obliged to ride away from the Manor House leaving a wrong impression behind me. And yet, of two evils I think I chose the lesser one, for it was better that my uncle should believe me a coward, loving the peaceful occupations of art and letters more than the alarms of war, than that he should know me to be what he would have termed a renegade, a traitor, an enemy to God, king, and country. Nay, if he had known the true facts of the case I doubt if he would have allowed me to leave him at all—he would rather have sent me under strong guard to Pomfret Castle and bade Colonel Lowther deal with me for a rebel.
At the top of the hill over against Thorpe village I turned in my stirrups and looked back at East Hardwick. I saw the roof of the Manor House beyond the trees, and as I watched I caught the flutter of gay colours from the pole at its north gable. Sir Nicholas had caused to be hoisted the royal standard, in defiance, doubtless, of all the disaffected in those parts. It waved against the light breeze, and I looked at it again and at the roof beneath it ere I clapped spurs to my horse and went on towards the Barnsdale woods.