It was clearly the best course to take, and Rupert trotted forward
on his way, while Hugh galloped back at full speed. In a quarter of
an hour the latter drew rein at his father's door.

"Hullo, Hugh, lad," the farmer, a hearty man of some fifty years of age,
said, as he came to the door, "be'est thou? What art doing on the
squire's horse? He looks as if thou had ridden him unmercifully, surely?"

In a few words Hugh related what had taken place, and told him of
his own offer to go to the wars with Rupert.

"That's right, lad; that's right and proper. It's according to the
nature of things that when a Holliday rides to the war a Parsons
should ride behind him. It's always been so, and will always be so,
I hope. Mother will grieve, no doubt; but she won't want to fly in
the face of nature.

"Here, mother, come out. Master Rupert's killed Sir William
Brownlow's son, and is off to the wars, and so our Hugh's,
natural-like, going with him."

Mrs. Parsons after her first ejaculation of surprise burst into
tears, but, as her husband had predicted, offered no objection
whatever to what seemed to her, as to him, a matter of plain duty
on the part of her son. Hugh now explained the reason of his
return.

"Ay, ay, lad; thou shalt have the money. I've got fifty pounds for
next quarter's rent. Colonel Holliday will be glad enough for some
of it to go to his grandson. I'll gin ye half o't, Hugh, and take