Part 42 (1/2)
”Yes, my lad, and I'm very, very glad you have escaped so well.”
”Oh, I've 'scaped well enough, Master Fred; deal better than I deserved.
We're a wicked, bad, good-for-nothing family. Look at our Nat, fighting against his own brother.”
”It is very sad, Samson,” said Fred; ”but, remember, you are fighting against him.”
”That I arn't, sir. It's him fighting against me, and I only wish I may run against him some day. I'd make him so sore that he'll lie down and howl for his mother, poor soul, and she breaking her heart about him turning out so badly; and, I say, Master Fred, if I don't have something to eat, I shall be only fit to bury to-morrow.”
”Come with me, Samson; I'm going up to my father's quarters. I'll see that you have plenty to eat, if there is anything.”
”Who'd be without a good master?” muttered Samson; and then aloud, ”Here he comes.”
For Colonel Forrester came cantering up.
”Alive and well, Samson? Good lad! We couldn't spare you. Fred, my boy, news has come in that a little party of the enemy has taken shelter in the woodland yonder over the hill. Take a dozen men, surround them, and bring them in. Don't let one of them escape. Turned back by one of the regiments crossing their path as they were in retreat. Now, then, to horse and away!”
Burning with excitement, Fred forgot all his weariness, buckled his horse's bit, mounted, and turned to select his men, when he found Samson already mounted, and at his elbow.
”Here, what do you want, sir?” he cried.
”What do I want, Master Fred? Why, to go with you.”
”Nonsense! You are f.a.gged out. Go and rest, and your horse too.”
”Now, I do call that likely, Master Fred. Let you go without me. I should just think not.”
”But this is nonsense, Samson. I want fresh men.”
”Just what I thought, sir. Nonsense for you to go without me, and you don't want no fresh men. You want me, and I'm coming--there!”
Fred had neither time nor inclination to combat his follower's desire; in fact, he was rather glad to have the st.u.r.dy, west-country man at his elbow, so he rode up to the main portion of the regiment, selected eleven out of a hundred who wanted to go with the young officer, and rode off at a moderate trot across country, forded the stream, and then, bearing away from the woodland, made as if to leave it on his right, so as not to excite suspicion in case they were seen. But just as he was well opposite, he gave an order, the men divided in two parties, and set off at a gallop to surround the trees, the mounted men halting at about a hundred yards apart, and waiting for the signal to advance.
The manoeuvre was soon executed, and the circle moved steadily toward the centre of the park-like patch of ground, so open that as the ring grew smaller there was not the slightest prospect of any of the enemy breaking through unseen.
Fred, in his anxiety to carry out his father's commands successfully, had remained at the foot of the wooded slope, Samson being on his right and another trustworthy fellow on his left, for he felt sure that those of whom they were in search would break out in his direction. In fact, he sat there waiting for his men to drive the intended prisoners down for him to take.
The task was not long, for the tramping of horses was heard, and the rustling and crackling of the undergrowth; but the enemy did not break cover.
At last, though, there was a rush and the clash of steel, and, with his heart throbbing, the lad signed to his nearest men to close up, and they advanced together, then set spur to their horses, and made a dash for a clump of bushes, where three hors.e.m.e.n were striving to get out through the tangle; and as they reached them Fred uttered an exclamation full of anger.
”Look at that!” cried Samson. ”Why, they're our own men.”
Fred uttered an impatient cry.
”Couldn't you see them?” he said to the first man who struggled out of the bushes.
”No, sir; n.o.body there.”
”Then you must have missed them, and they are there now.”
”We searched the place well,” said another man; and one by one, as the party closed up, they told the same tale.