"If so," said he, "he would have better sport on foot than to practise
on an outlaw like me. No, Humphrey, he is a loyal man, as, pray heaven,
so am I. And he commands me in a name I cannot resist."

"Then," said I, sadly, "we part. I would have served you, Ludar, on any
other service. But I, too, have a Queen, who owns me."

"So be it," said he. "I expected it; and naught else could part me from
you. Be sure we shall meet again, Humphrey, when all is over."

"Who knows but it may be on the field of battle?" said I, sadly. "Yet,
tell me where I shall hear of you; and take note where you shall hear of
me. For I will back to London--"

"To your love," said he, with a sigh. "So be it. You shall hear of me
there, Humphrey."

"And, before we part," said I, taking his great hand, "swear me an oath,
Ludar, that you will not forget me."

He flung my hand away impatiently.

"Do you take me for a knave, brother? I swear to you, that next to my
Queen, my father, and the memory of her who once loved me, you have the
chiefest right to say, 'Ludar, help me,' and if I forget you, 'twill be
that I have forgotten I am a man."

That comforted me vastly, and I too made my vow.

"Next to my Queen," said I, "and no one besides, you are still my
master; and my life goes for nothing, so it shall serve you and her you
love, who, I am sure, is true to you still, and waits for you somewhere,
whatever men say."

He gripped my hand hard at that; and, sorrowful as it was, we loved one
another the more at that parting than ever before.

Next day we landed. Captain Fortescue, suspecting me to be no friend to
him or his cause, was in haste to reach Carlisle, and shortened our
leave-taking in consequence. We had but time to renew our vows, when
the boat which was to carry my friend and his new master from me came
alongside and severed us. I watched him till the envious hills came in
between; and, as I saw him last, standing and waving his hat, methought
a great piece had gone out of my life, and that there was left of me but
half the man I once was.

And now must my story hasten on by strides, such as never the laggard
months took after I had said farewell to Ludar. For 'tis of him, not of
Humphrey Dexter, that I am the chronicler, and till my history meet him
once more my reader is without his hero.

Yet there are one or two scenes a-wanting to fill up the gap; which,
even though they concern chiefly me, I must relate in