“Why,” says I, “but that’s something. Now here I am with naught.”
He looked across the table at me in a sudden surprise, and if I had kept my wits about me, I should have noticed his quick curious glance.
“Hast never quarrelled with Sir Nicholas!” says he. “Gadzooks, I thought thou wert—well, well,” he says, laughing, “then I am not the only one of his relations to disagree with the old knight, it seems. But what has parted you, Dick?—I understood you were a sort of young Sir Nicholas already.”
“’Tis a political difference,” says I, like the fool that I was.
“Hah!” says he. “I can well believe it in these times. And for which side art thou, Dick?—hark thee,” he says, bending across the table to me, “I’m not afraid to tell thee, lad, that my sympathies are all with the Parliament. ’Sdeath, I have been considering this last week or so whether I won’t join with them—’tis a gentlemanly occupation, that of arms.”
“’Tis what I am about to adopt,” says I.
“I trust on the right side,” says he.
“I am for the Parliament,” says I, stoutly.
“Aye, and Sir Nicholas is a staunch King and Church man,” he says. “Well, well—so you differed on that point, eh?”
“Something like it,” says I. “He would have had me go into garrison at Pomfret Castle under Sir Jarvis Cutler.”