Part 65 (2/2)

”Officers going to their quarters,” he thought. ”I wonder which room they occupy.”

He listened, and they reached the top of the stairs, turning to the left, a movement which brought them towards him.

He would have closed the door entirely, but dreading a noise that might betray him, he left it ajar, and stood waiting for them to pa.s.s, but only to flush crimson with indignation as a sudden thought struck him in answer to his wondering question.

”They would not dare!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed in an angry whisper; and he turned to flee into the farther room, where the servants had been, and where as a rule his sister slept. But as he moved towards it quickly, it occurred to him that there were no such voluminous curtains for hiding behind, and, quick as thought, he darted to his old place of concealment, only just having time to throw the heavy hangings round him as the door was thrust back, and two men strode into the room.

”The cowardly, plundering villains!” muttered Scarlett, and his hands involuntarily clenched, and he felt ready to rush out and face these nocturnal marauders, but he checked the desire.

”Poor mother!” he sighed; ”she would not value every jewel she possesses as a featherweight against my safety. They must go, I suppose; but oh, what a delight to make the rogues disgorge!”

”Plaguey dark,” said one of the new-comers. ”Light enough for what we want to do, my lad. Shut and fasten the door. We don't want any one to share our bit of luck.”

”No. Just enough for two. It may be weeks before we get such another chance.”

They were evidently well-to-do men, by their conversation, probably officers; and Scarlett bit his lip with rage as he thought of his mother's watch and chain, and the beautiful set of pearls, his father's present to her in happier days. Then, too, there was a case with rings and brooches, beside many other elegant little trifles that would be welcome to a plunderer.

Once more the desire to rush out and face these wretches was strong upon him, but a moment's reflection told him that to do so was to surrender himself a prisoner, and place himself beyond the power of giving valuable information to the general, his father, who might unwittingly come on to his old home and walk into a trap.

”Better lose a thousand times as many jewels,” he muttered, ”than that.

Let them steal, for I suppose my poor mother would not have placed her treasures in a place of safety.” He listened breathlessly behind the thick curtain, hoping that the plunderers would be quick and leave, and give him the opportunity to escape.

The chance came more quickly than he had antic.i.p.ated, for it seemed from the footsteps that the men had gone into the inner chamber, leaving him free to slip out.

His hand was upon the thick fold of the curtain, for all was still in his mother's room, and he was mentally going on tiptoe to the door, when there was a loud yawn from the _prie dieu_ chair close to the bed's head, and a voice almost at his elbow said--

”Well, what's it like?”

”Can't see much; but it seems a cosy little nest, as soft as can be.”

”Which will you have, that or this?”

”Oh, I'll stop here,” was the reply.

”Then may the trumpeter forget to blow for twenty-four hours,” said the voice at Scarlett's elbow, ”and the enemy never know that we are here.”

”Amen!” came from the further room.

”And, I say,” exclaimed Scarlett's neighbour, as he seemed to be moving about vigorously.

”Yes.”

”Don't disturb anything. Poor ladies! it's like sacrilege to take possession here; but when there's a soft bed on one side and some straw on the boards of a loft on the other, one falls into temptation.”

Clump went a heavy boot on the thick rug, and then another.

”Yes. Goodnight. Don't talk any more,” came from the inner room.

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