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“It is he–Garrett.”

Ten minutes afterwards the young man entered. He was about two years older than his sister; that is, seventeen. He was very tall for his age, with dark hair and a pale dry face, and of distinguished bearing. Unlike his father, he was slim and gracefully built, with no breadth or power to his shoulders, but with an athletic suppleness and a refinement almost womanlike. He was tenacious, overbearing, self-willed, somewhat silent and also somewhat bad-tempered.

There was excitement in his eye as he entered. He came straight to his father, giving only a nod to Mistress Felicity, who twisted her head in a demure little way, as though in mockery of his important manner.

“Booh!–my lord duke!” she said almost under her breath.

“Well, my son,” said Enderby, giving him his hand, “your face has none so cheerful a look. Hast thou no welcome for thy father?”

“I am glad you are home again, sir,” said young Enderby, more dutifully than cordially.

There was silence for a moment.

“You do not ask my news,” said his father, eyeing him debatingly.

“I have your news, sir,” was the young man’s half sullen reply.

His sister came near her father, where she could look her brother straight in the face, and her deep blue eyes fixed upon him intently. The smile almost faded from her lips, and her square chin seemed suddenly to take on an air of seriousness and strength.

“Well, sir?” asked his father.

“That you, sir, have refused a knighthood of the King; that he insists upon your keeping it; that he is about to levy upon your estates: and that you are outlawed from England.”

“And what think you about the matter?” asked his father.

“I think it is a gentleman’s duty to take the King’s gifts without question,” answered the young man.

“Whether the King be just or not, eh? Where would England have been, my son, if the barons had submitted to King John? Where would the Enderbys have been had they not withstood the purposes of Queen Mary? Come, come, the King has a chance to prove himself as John Enderby has proven himself. Midst other news, heard you not that last night I led a dozen gentlemen to the rescue of the King?”

“‘Twas said in the village that his Majesty would remove his interdict and make you a baron, sir, if you met his levy for the knighthood.”

“That I shall never do. Answer me, my son, do you stand with the King or with your father in this?”

“I am an Enderby,” answered the youth, moodily, “and I stand with the head of our house.”

That night as candles were being lighted, three score of the King’s men, headed by Lord Rippingdale, placed themselves before the house, and an officer was sent forward to summon forth John Enderby.

Enderby had gathered his men together, and they were posted for defence at the doorways and entrances, and along the battlements. The windows were all heavily shuttered and barred.

The young officer commissioned to demand an interview with Enderby came forward and knocked at the great entrance door. It opened presently and showed within the hallway a dozen men well armed. Enderby came forward to meet him.

“I am Sir Richard Mowbray,” said the newcomer. “I am sent by Lord Rippingdale, who arrives on a mission from his Majesty.”

Enderby, recognising his visitor, was mild in his reply.

“Sir Richard Mowbray, I pray you tell Lord Rippingdale that he is welcome–as commissioner of the King.”

Mowbray smiled and bowed.

“My lord begs me to ask that you will come forth and speak with him, Sir John?”

“My compliments to Lord Rippingdale, Sir Richard, and say that I can better entertain his Majesty’s commissioner within my own house.”

“And all who wait with him?” asked the young officer, with a dry sort of smile.

“My lord, and his officers and gentlemen, but not his troopers.”

Mowbray bowed, and as he lifted his head again he saw the face of Mistress Felicity looking through the doorway of the library. Their eyes met. On a sudden a new impulse came to his thoughts.