onald Ward, I am
sorry for it. I had no wish to do so. Comrades in a great enterprise
must not quarrel with each other. I offer you my hand in token that I do
not think of you as anything but an honourable man."

"Spoken like a gentleman," said Donald, grasping the outstretched
hand. "Enough said, you have satisfied me that you meant no insult. A
gentleman can do no more."

"I am not what they call a gentleman," said James Hope, "I am only a
poor weaver with no claim to any such title."

CHAPTER VII

At breakfast the next morning James Hope spoke again about Finlay.

"The man went home last night with Aeneas Moylin. I think that I ought
to go to Donegore to-day and tell Aeneas of our suspicions. I had
intended to go straight to Templepatrick, and I might have had your
company so far, but it will certainly be better for me to go round by
Donegore."

Donald Ward nodded.

"I shall not see Finlay himself," said Hope. "He was to leave early this
morning for Belfast. You must ride fast to be there before him."

He paused. Then, after a moment's thought, he said:

"I should like to have Neal with me, if you can spare him, Donald Ward,
if you do not object to riding alone."

"I am sure," said Donald, "that Neal will benefit much more by your
company than mine. He can join me in Belfast this evening."

This was Donald's apology, his confession of contrition for the rough
language of the night before; his confession that in James Hope he had
met a man who was his superior.

"So be it," said Hope. "I shall not propose to you, Neal, that we ride
and tie as the custom of the country is for travellers who have only one
horse between them. You shall lead the horse, and so we shall be able to
talk to each other."

Neal agreed to the plan gladly. He was greatly attracted by James Hope,
and glad to spend some hours with him.

The girl came running into the room, her face flushed with excitement.

"Come, come," she cried, "the soldiers are riding down the street in
their braw red coats. Oh, the bonny men and the bonny horses!"

The three travellers went to the door of the inn. Four companies of
dragoons were passing through the town at a trot. It was Neal's first
view of any considerable body of troops. He stared at them, fascinated
by the jingling and clattering of their accoutrements. These were very
different from the yeomen he had seen at Dunseveric. Everything about
them, the uniformity of their appearance