Part 84 (2/2)
Now I want a nap.”
CHAPTER FORTY.
A SAD REPORT.
The Cavalier let his head sink once more upon his pillow, and Fred went slowly away, to go and watch the flames rising and falling as the Hall burned rapidly, sending forth a glow of heat that could be felt far away.
And now that the hurry and excitement were at an end, Fred had time once more to think of those of whose fate he was still uncertain.
Just then a prisoner was being brought in, and he hurried to the spot, but only to turn away disappointed, to go and gaze once more at the burning pile, musing sadly on the times when he had pa.s.sed such pleasant hours about the place which had been to him as a second home; and thinking, as he gazed through the open windows into the furnace within, of the various rooms where every object was so familiar--picture, ornament, carved cabinet, trophy--and now all turning to glowing embers.
”Seems a pity, Master Fred, don't it?” said a voice at his elbow.
”You here, Samson?”
”Yes, sir; just come from round at the back.”
”Has the fire made its way there?”
”Oh, bless you, sir, it's been creeping and rus.h.i.+ng and leaping over everything! Even the big tool-house and fruit-room's burned. Such a pity. Nice lot of tools all destroyed; and, not that I want to find fault, but a deal better set than we ever had at the Manor. Why, there was a barrow, sir, as run that light in your hands, no matter how you filled it, as made it a pleasure to work.”
”And all burned, Samson?”
”All burned into ashes, sir. I never could understand it, but it always did seem hard as a man like brother Nat should have such a barrow as that, while I had one as I was ashamed of.”
”We must get to the wilderness to-night, Samson, somehow.”
”Oh, he won't hurt, sir,” said Samson, roughly. ”He's right enough; but I've got a bottle o' cider, and three bread-cakes, and half a roast fowl to take with us when we go.”
”That's right,” said Fred, smiling in spite of himself; but only to turn serious as an agonising thought shot through him, for a portion of the roof of the Hall fell just then, and a whirlwind of sparks sprang into the evening sky.
”Have you heard any news, Samson?” whispered Fred.
”News, sir?”
”Of Sir G.o.dfrey and Scarlett?”
Samson stood gazing straight at the fire, his eyes half shut, and his forehead a maze of puckers and wrinkles, and he seemed not to have heard in the intentness of his watching the progress of the fire.
”Do you hear what I say?” reiterated Fred. ”Is there any news of Sir G.o.dfrey and Scarlett?”
”Yes, I hear what you say, sir.”
”Then why don't you speak?”
”'Cause I haven't nothing good to say.”
”Oh, Samson, there is no bad news?”
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