Part 60 (1/2)

”And is it, father?”

There was a pause.

”Oh, father, how could you?”

”Don't misjudge me, boy,” said the colonel, sternly. ”I have done everything I could to stop it.”

”And--”

”Failed, Fred. It is a strong position for many reasons, and I have been compelled, by my duty to my country, to hold my peace. Rein back.”

It was the officer speaking now, and Fred checked his steed till Samson was nearly abreast of him again, when, after quite a dozen attempts to draw his young master into conversation, Samson muttered to himself, ”In the grumps;” and rode on in silence too.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

A PEt.i.tION TO THE GENERAL.

It seemed to Fred Forrester a strange stroke of fate, when, after three days' slow and steady advance, feeling their way cautiously, as if at any hour they might meet the enemy, he rode with the advance to take possession of the Hall, for in spite of the colonel offering his own home again, the general kept to his decision that the Hall was the more suitable place for head-quarters.

The day was bright as one of those when, full of boyish spirits, he used to run over to spend the day with Scarlett Markham; and where was he now? A fugitive, perhaps; who could say where? And Sir G.o.dfrey, where was he?

Fred felt very sad as he rode on, with the horses' hoofs trampling deeply into the soft green turf. But how beautiful it all seemed, with the rich red-brown stone of the old house contrasting so well with the green of the stately trees. The lake glistened like a sheet of silver in the suns.h.i.+ne, and all seemed familiar and welcome, and yet somehow as though connected with his life long, long ago, and as if it was impossible it could have been so short a time since he was a boy, and played about there.

”I hope the men will be careful,” he found himself thinking; ”and that every one will be respectful to Lady Markham.”

He had not much time for thought after that, for the men were halted on the level gra.s.s land in front of the terrace garden, and he found himself one of the officers who, after an advance guard had ridden up to the front, and others had been despatched to form piquets surrounding the place, rode up in the train of the general.

To Fred's surprise, Lady Markham and her daughter came to the broad step in front of the entrance, and the general touched his horse's sides with the spurs, and rode up.

Fred was so near that he heard every word, and he bent forward, looking in vain for some token of recognition from the pale, careworn lady and her shrinking daughter, who received the general.

The latter saluted Lady Markham gravely.

”I regret to trouble you, madam,” he said; ”but we are compelled to take possession of your house for the present.”

Lady Markham bowed coldly.

”We are at your mercy, sir,” she said.

”Nonsense, madam!” cried the general, shortly. ”You and the pretty young lady there by your side need not talk about mercy. The stern necessities of war bring us here, so all I have to say is, be good enough to reserve such apartments as you need for yourselves. You and your servants will be perfectly unmolested.”

Lady Markham bowed once more.

”The housekeeper is here,” she said, ”and will provide all we have. We have no men-servants now, to show where the stables and granary lie.”

”Pray don't trouble yourself about these matters, madam. My men will find what they want, and I dare say,” he added sarcastically, ”unless General Markham comes to look us up, and forces us to make more reprisals, we shall ride away, and you will find the Hall little the worse for our visit.”

A sudden change came over Lady Markham at the mention of her husband's name, and after a few minutes' hesitation, she stepped out to stand with joined hands, looking supplicatingly at the general.

”My husband?” she said imploringly, ”is--is he well?”

”You ask me a question I cannot answer, madam,” said the general, taking off his morion, and speaking in a quiet sympathising voice. ”But there is one of my young followers who may be able to give you some information.”