Part 41 (1/2)
”You don't say anything, Master Rayburn,” cried Ralph at last. ”Do you think we were so very much to blame?”
”Blame, my boy?” cried the old man. ”I always liked you two lads, and, wrong or right, I think you've done a grand thing.”
”What?”
”I never felt so proud of you both in my life.”
Ralph smiled.
”That's very good of you, Master Rayburn,” he said, ”and it's a bit comforting; but I've got father to meet by-and-by.”
”And so have I, my boy,” cried the old man warmly, ”to take the blame of it all. For it was my doing from beginning to end. I incited you lads to go and do this, and I shall tell your father it is only what he and Sir Edward Eden ought to have done months ago.”
”But we failed--failed,” groaned Ralph dismally.
”Failed! You have not done all you meant to do, but you have read those ruffians a severe lesson, and next time--”
”Ah! next time,” sighed Ralph.
”Come, Ralph! Be a man. Nothing great is ever done without failure first. Your father will be angry, and naturally. He'll scold and blame, and all that; but I know what he is at heart, and he'll think as I do, that he need not be ashamed of his son, even if he has failed.”
The quarters were reached soon after, and the sufferer who had been carried back received the first attention, the others all having their turn; and just as the last bandage had been applied, Sir Morton, who had been having a walk round, came upon the pikes, stained and blunted, leaning against a b.u.t.tress of the wall. This brought him to the men's quarters, and in utter astonishment he stood gazing at the scene.
”Ah! good morning,” said Master Rayburn, in answer to his wondering look from his son to the injured men and back. ”They'll be easier now. Only one hurt much, and he'll be all right again after a few days' rest.”
”But what does this mean?” said Sir Morton; and his son stood out, and in a frank, manly way, once more related the adventures of the night.
Sir Morton's face grew sterner and harder as he heard everything to the finish; and he was just about to speak, when Master Rayburn broke in:
”My doing, from beginning to end. I told them they ought to do it.”
”And a nice business your interference has made, sir!” cried Sir Morton angrily. ”You see now that it is impossible for two such adverse elements to get on together. The brutes! to turn upon those who had been fighting by their side!”
”Are you speaking about your men or Sir Edward Eden's?” said the old man drily.
”Eden's, of course,” cried Sir Morton angrily.
”Six of one and half-a-dozen of the other,” said the old man; ”and all due to the evil teaching of their masters, my dear old friend. Come, Darley, it's of no use to cry over spilt milk; the boys have set their fathers a splendid example, and driven in the thin end of the wedge.
The sooner you and Eden send it home the better.”
”I must try again.”
”Of course. I don't ask you to make friends. It would be absurd; but you must stir now, and I shall tell Eden the same, and that he cannot for very shame leave the work undone that his son has begun. Ralph, lad, you go to bed, and sleep all day. I am doctor enough to insist to your father that you are not to be disturbed. I must go up to the Black Tor at once, for I suppose I am badly wanted there.”
The old man hurried away with the remainder of his bandages, and Sir Morton signed to his son, who followed him to the room into which Captain Purlrose had been ushered.
”Now, Ralph,” began Sir Morton, but his son interrupted him:
”Guilty, father,” he cried dismally, ”and I have failed.”