sness; I had staked my peace of mind on a rebel, and now it seemed
even he had done with me. Yet I could not believe that. Had I done so,
I think I should have beaten out my brains upon the wall of that damp
cellar. As it was, I sat there, too bewildered to think. And so, for
lack of anything else to do, I fell asleep.

I know not how long I had slept, when I was aroused by a hand on my arm.
As I might have known, it was Ludar. He had a dish of venison pasty
and a flagon of wine in his hands, which he set before me, and in dumb
show bade me eat. I obeyed heartily, for I had not tasted food since
the morning. Then he took me by the hand, and led me in the darkness up
the steps and into the open air. Once clear of the house he broke
silence.

"Farewell," said he, "I may stay here. My guardian threatens to send me
back to Oxford in charge of a troop, but I think I shall stay here a
while."

"But," said I, "will you not get yourself into trouble over this?"

"Over what? your release?" said he, laughing, "I think not. The old
gentleman will rave somewhat at first, but when it comes to hanging me
or nobody, he will hold his peace. He cannot afford to see a ward of
his swing with his feet off the ground. Moreover, as soon as I can hear
news from the north, I shall go to find my father. So, farewell,
Humphrey. Expect me in London ere long, and forget not our oath."

I gave him my hand in answer, and with a heavy heart started on my way.

I had not gone many paces when he came after me.

"Who and what sort of man is this Captain?" said he.

"He is the Devil," said I. And I told him what had passed between us.
He laughed loud when I spoke of the duck-pond--so loud that I feared we
should be heard.

"Oh," said he, when the tale was done, "that settles it."

"Settles what?" I asked.

"I mean," said he, "that I think I shall slay him."

And with that we parted, he back to the house, I, dismally enough, to
London.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

HOW I FOUND TROUBLE ON MY RETURN.

It surprised me to find how desolate I felt as I set out alone on the
last stage of my journey. For when I started from London not two weeks
ago I was blithe enough, and well content with my own company. But
since Ludar came across my path, I was conscious that there was some man
better and nobler in the world than Humphrey Dexter; and to be left now
to my own sweet society seemed a poor exchange for the companionship I
had had the