determined to join the Scotch army which was expected soon to welcome
Charles the Second from France. There he would be in contact with Lord
Rippingdale and his Majesty. When Cromwell was driven from his place,
great honours might await him. Hearing in London, however, that his
father had returned, and was gone on to the estate, he turned his horse
about and rode back again, travelling by night chiefly, and reached
Enderby House four days after his father's arrival there.

He found his father seated alone at the dinner-table. Swinging wide open
the door of the dining-room he strode in aggressively.

The old man stood up in his place at the table and his eyes brightened
expectantly when he saw his son, for his brain was quickened by the
thought that perhaps, after all his wrong-doing, the boy had come back to
stand by him, a repentant prodigal. He was a man of warm and firm spirit,
and now his breast heaved with his emotions. This boy had been the apple
of his eye. Since the day of his birth he had looked for great things
from him, and had seen in him the refined perpetuation of the sturdy race
of the Enderbys. He counted himself but a rough sort of country
gentleman, and the courtly face of his son had suggested the country
gentleman cast in a finer mould. He was about to speak kindly as of old,
but the young man, with clattering spurs, came up to the other end of the
table, and with a dry insolence said:

"By whose invitation do you come here?"

The blood fled from the old man's heart. For a moment he felt sick, and
his face turned white. He dropped his head a little and looked at his son
steadily and mournfully.