Part 72 (1/2)

”Yes, father,” said Fred; ”but are we going to attack the place again soon?”

”Yes; and this time most vigorously. The nest of hornets must be cleared out, eh, Hedley?” he said, as the general came up from the rough tent erected under one of the spreading trees.

”Of what are you talking?”

”My boy, here, asks me if we are going to attack the Hall again.”

”Yes; if they do not march out by to-night, and give themselves up, I shall attack, and as I shall send them word, they must expect little mercy. By the way, Forrester, I want to talk to you.” The pair marched slowly away, leaving Fred to his contemplation of the Hall and its surroundings; and he seated himself upon the mossy roots of a huge beech on the slope facing the old red stone building, and gazed eagerly at the distant figures which appeared at the window openings from time to time, wondering whether either of them was Scarlett, if he was with his father, for he was not among the wounded, or whether he had escaped among the scattered Royalists after that last fierce charge.

”He is sure to be there,” said the lad to himself, as he sat on the rough b.u.t.tress with his sword across his knees. ”Poor old Scar! how I remember our taking down the swords and fighting, and Sir G.o.dfrey coming and catching us. It seemed a grand thing to have a sword then--much grander than it seems now,” he added, as he looked gloomily at the weapon he held.

He gazed moodily across the lake again, and then thought of his father's words about his duty to his country; and his young brow grew more and more wrinkled.

”Yes,” he said; ”I ought to do my duty to my country. Those people can hold us off, and there'll be a desperate fight, and some of our men will be killed, and nearly all theirs. I could stop it all and make an end of the fight easily enough by doing my duty to my country. But if I did, I should be sending Sir G.o.dfrey and poor old Scar to prison, perhaps get them killed, because they would fight desperately, and I should make Lady Markham and poor little Lil miserable, and be behaving like a wretch. I don't like doing such duty.”

”Let me see,” continued Fred, as he gazed across the lake, ”how should I do it? Easily enough. Get thirty or forty men, and take them in the old boat across to the mouth of the pa.s.sage, ten at a time. What nonsense! March them after dark round to the wilderness, pull away the boughs, drop down, and thread our way right along the old pa.s.sage into the Hall, surprise every one, and the place would be ours.

”And a nice treacherous thing to do; and I should fail,” he cried joyously, ”for Scar will have given me the credit of planning such a thing, and I'll be bound to say he has blocked the place up with stones.

”No; I couldn't do that, and if ever we meet again as friends, and Scar tells me he was sure I should attack them there, and that he guarded against it, I'll kick him for thinking me such a dishonourable traitor.”

Fred sat musing still--wondering what the garrison were doing, and fighting hard to keep the thought of the secret pa.s.sage out of his mind.

What would his father say if he knew of the secret he was keeping back?

and conscience ran him very hard on the score of duty to his country.

”But,” he said at last, ”duty to one's country does not mean being treacherous to one's old friends. I'm obliged to fight against them; but I'll fight fairly and openly. I will not, duty to my country or no duty, go crawling through pa.s.sages to stab them in the dark.”

It was a glorious day, succeeding two during which a western gale had been blowing, drenching the attacking party, and making everything wretched around; and as Fred rose from where he had been seated and walked slowly along by the edge of the lake towards its eastern end, the water, moor, and woodlands looked so lovely that there was a mingled feeling of joy and misery in the lad's breast.

He thought of the besieged, then of those who were in all probability still at the Manor, from which duty had kept him absent, even his father having refrained from going across, though they had had daily information as to Mistress Forrester's welfare. Fred thought then of his own position, and all the time he was gazing down into the clear water, where he could see the bar-sided perch sailing slowly about, and the great carp and tench heavily wallowing among the lily stems, and setting the great flat leaves a-quiver as they floated on the surface.

Ah, how it all brought back the pleasant old days when he and Scar used to spend so much time about the water-side!

”I wonder whether he can see me now,” he muttered, as he came up to one of the little patches of woodland, and stood gazing across the lake at the ivy and bush-grown bank where the secret pa.s.sage had its opening.

”No; I don't suppose Scar would know me at this distance,” he said; and he took half a dozen steps forward, to be stopped short by the rattle of arms and a sharp ”Halt!”

For the moment Fred thought himself in the presence of one of the enemy, and his hand darted to the hilt of his sword; but he realised directly after that it was one of their own men posted there, and he s.h.i.+vered as he wondered whether the sentry had noted the direction of his gaze.

”Only taking a stroll round, my man,” said Fred, as he gave the pa.s.sword.

”Not going into the wood, are you, sir?”

”Yes; right on, towards the Hall.”

”Better take care, sir. There are some clever marksmen there, and I should get into trouble if you were hurt.”

”Don't be alarmed,” replied Fred, smiling. ”I'll take care.”