"Yes, a little." She hesitated. "That husband of mine has fled
Charlestown. They think he went to the fleet." And she shot a meaning
look at Mr. Riddle, who in turn flushed red. I was watching them.

"What!" cried the clergyman, "John Temple has run away?"

"Why not," said Mr. Riddle. "One can't live between wind and water long.
And Charlestown's--uncomfortable in summer."

At that the clergyman cast one look at them--such a look as I shall never
forget--and went into the house.

"Mamma," said the boy, "where has father gone? Has he run away?"

"Yes. Don't bother me, Nick."

"I don't believe it," cried Nick, his high voice shaking. "I'd--I'd
disown him."

At that Mr. Riddle burst into a hearty laugh.

"Come, Nick," said he, "it isn't so bad as that. Your father's for his
Majesty, like the rest of us. He's merely gone over to fight for him."
And he looked at the lady and laughed again. But I liked the boy.

As for the lady, she curled her lip. "Mr. Riddle, don't be foolish," she
said. "If we are to play, send your horse to the stables." Suddenly her
eye lighted on me. "One more brat," she sighed. "Nick, take him to the
nursery, or the stable. And both of you keep out of my sight."