He had imagined him a servant, but the dull flush that overspread Sir Crispin's face told him of his error.
"I would have you know, sir," Crispin began, with some heat, when Kenneth interrupted him.
"Tis to this gentleman, sir, that I owe my presence here.

He was my fellow-prisoner, and but for his quick wit and stout arm I should be stiff by now.

Anon, sir, you shall hear the story of it, and I dare swear it will divert you.

This gentleman is Sir Crispin Galliard, lately a captain of horse with whom I served in Middleton's Brigade." Crispin bowed low, conscious of the keen scrutiny in which Gregory's eyes were bent upon him.

In his heart there arose a fear that, haply after all, the years that were sped had not wrought sufficient change in him.
"Sir Crispin Galliard," Ashburn was saying, after the manner of one who is searching his memory.