Part 35 (2/2)

Fred looked at him inquiringly.

”What are you, Fred--sixteen, isn't it?”

”Yes, father.”

”Ah, if you had been six and twenty, how useful to me you could have been!”

Fred flushed.

”I could be useful to you now, father, if you would let me be,” he said in an injured tone. ”I could have ridden over to Barnstaple with your letter quicker than Samson did, and I shouldn't have tired Dodder so much.”

”Yes, I thought of that, Fred, but you are only a boy, and you were at play.”

There was a silence for a few moments, and then Fred spoke.

”Is it wrong for a boy to play, father?”

”Heaven forbid. No; of course not. Play goes with youth, and it gives boys energy, strength, and decision. Yes, Fred, play while you can.

Manfully and well. But play.”

Fred looked up at his father in a puzzled way, as he stopped short, and began beating his side with the despatch he had received. There was a dreamy look in his eyes, which were fixed on vacancy, as he muttered--

”Yes; I must be right. I have hesitated long, but it is a duty. But what does it mean--friends.h.i.+ps broken; the land in chaos; brother against brother; perhaps father against son. No, no,” he added, with a shudder, as he turned sharply on his boy. ”Fred, my lad,” he tried, ”if trouble comes upon our land, and I have to take side with those who fight--”

He stopped short.

”Who fight, father? You are not going to fight.”

”I don't know yet, my boy; but if I do, it will be for those I believe to be in the right. What I believe to be right, you, too, must believe in, and follow.”

”Of course, father,” said the boy, quietly.

”No matter what is said against me, or how you may be influenced. I know about these matters better than you do, and I shall ask you to trust to me.”

Fred smiled, as if his father's words amused him, for it seemed absurd that he should have any opinion against his own father.

”Why, of course, I shall do as you tell me,” he said, taking hold of his father's arm, and they walked together into the house, where Mistress Forrester, looking pale and large-eyed, was awaiting her husband's return.

She did not speak, but looked up in his eyes with so eager and inquiring an air that he bent down and kissed her forehead.

”Yes,” he said.

”Oh, husband!”

”It cannot be avoided. My duty is with the people. That duty I must do.”

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