"And since we two have been comrades in peril, give me your hand, and let heaven witness that we are friends from this day." I gripped his hand in silence, for I knew not what to say.

My heart went out to this wild, odd comrade of mine, of whom I knew nothing; and had he bidden me follow him to the world's end, I should yet have thought twice before I refused him.
That night, as we lay in a wayside barn (for my purse was run too low to afford us an inn), Sir Ludar told me something of his history: and what he omitted to tell, I was able to guess.

He was the youngest son, he said, of an Irish rebel chieftain, Sorley Boy McDonnell by name; who, desiring at one time to cement a truce with the English, had given his child in charge of a Sir William Carleton, an English soldier to whom he owed a service, to be brought up by him in his household, and educated as an English scholar and gentleman.

The boy had never seen his father since; for though his guardian began by treating him well, yet when McDonnell turned against the English, as he had done, Sir William's manner changed.

He kept hold of the boy, not so much as a ward but as a hostage, and ruled him with an iron rod.