“Midshipmen, as I have heard tell,” she said, “are but little boys fresh from their nurses’ apron strings, and the King had the good sense to know that you are too tall for any such childishness.”

“I don’t suppose the King knows anything about me,” I said laughing.

“That I will never believe; the King knows everything,” said the simple creature.

You may be sure I rode off at once with my great news to the Hall, and received very hearty congratulations there.  But I could see that Mr. Allardyce was in some perturbation of mind, and by and by he took me aside and said: 

“That weasel-faced rascal you spoke of was seen about here yesterday, Humphrey.  One of my men told me that he saw such a man as you described in close talk with a low innkeeper in Morville.  I have not acquainted the ladies; ’tis no use alarming them; but I don’t like it, my boy.”

This was a mighty disconcerting piece of news, especially now that I was on the point of going away for I knew not how long.  While I remained within close call I flattered myself on being an efficient protector of Mistress Lucy, and I had that warrant always in my pocket to use against Cyrus Vetch if ever I set eyes on him.  And now I would willingly have resigned my commission, dearly as I prized it, if I could have found any reasonable ground for remaining to defend her still.  But I knew ’twas impossible, if for no other reason, because I was little more than a pauper, having indeed only enough of my twenty pounds left to carry me to Portsmouth.  So I could only fume inwardly, and long that war might break out again, and that I might capture many of the enemy’s vessels, and win heaps of money and early promotion to the rank of post captain, and return with my laurels thick upon me to lay all at Lucy’s feet.  You may smile at such ambitions in a youngster; but can you truly say you have not dreamed such dreams yourself?

’Twas with a full heart I set off in the dusk of evening to ride back to Shrewsbury.  I rode slowly, my mind being filled with forebodings, and I was only roused from my preoccupation by the sudden appearance of a horseman at the turning of a byroad leading from Bridgenorth.  He was riding rapidly, and we both reined up at the same moment to avoid a collision.  And at that moment my heart leapt with furious exultation as, in the fading light, I recognized my old enemy, and my friends’, Cyrus Vetch.

“Hold, you villain!” I cried, pulling my horse against his and drawing my sword.  “I have you now, and you will come into Shrewsbury with me.”

Fear struggled with anger in his face.  He was in no mind to show himself in Shrewsbury, where there was that matter of his uncle’s cash box to answer for, to say nothing of a matter more nearly concerning me.  But he could not pass me, and seeing that there was no other way out of it he whips out his sword and deals a savage cut at me.  I easily parried the stroke, and not being disposed to spare him, I ran my own weapon under his guard (he having no skill in sword play), and through the fleshy part of his right arm, so that he cried out with the pain, his sword dropping to the ground.