Part 88 (1/2)

”Well, sir, I hear that's to be it, unless a stronger party comes and drives us away. Seems to me as we're like the little ones playing king o' the castle; and no sooner is one up a-top than another comes and pushes him down. But, Master Fred; had your breakfast, haven't you?”

”Yes,” said Fred, whose thoughts were at the ruins.

”So have I, sir. Well, look here, sir; I want to see whether the slugs and snails have been at that there food in the wood. What do you say to going to see?”

”We cannot go till night, Samson,” said Fred, sadly.

”Yes, we can, sir. Look here; I'll cut a couple o' long willows, and get some worms in the Hall garden, and I dare say I can find a basket.

Then let's you and me go careless like to the far end of the lake, just as if we were going to try for a fish or two, and n.o.body will notice us then. Once we are there, we can creep up through the bushes to the wilderness, and get that bit o' food.”

”And see if your brother is better?”

”Nay, nay; I'm not going to take all that trouble 'bout such a fellow as him, sir. 'Tis 'bout that food I'm thinking. Shall we go, sir?”

”Yes, Samson, yes; and look here: don't try to deceive me like this, because it will not do.”

”Oh well, it never was no use to argue with you, sir, when you was a schoolboy. Now you're a young officer, you're harder still. There, I'm not going to say any more; but is it likely I should do all this 'bout an enemy, unless it was to make him a prisoner? There, I'm off to get them rods and worms.”

Samson went across to the Hall garden, and shortly afterwards reappeared with a pot and basket.

”We can get the two rods somewhere down by the lake,” he said; and one of the sentinels as he stood, firelock in hand, smiled grimly, and thought of how he would like to leave his monotonous task, and go down to the lake side to fish, after the fas.h.i.+on he had so loved when a boy.

This man watched them right to the edge of the water, where he saw Samson select and cut two long willow rods, and strip them clean of leaf and twig before shouldering them, and marching on beside his master.

”It's well to be them,” grumbled the man, ”for who knows whether in these days of bloodshed a lad may ever have a chance to fish again?”

He shouldered his firelock, and continued his slow tramp to and fro, looking out for the enemy, but more often turning his gaze toward his fis.h.i.+ng friends.

”Bring the hooks and lines, Master Fred?” said Samson, as they went on toward the west end of the lake.

”Hooks and lines? No.”

”Well, sir, we can't fish without lines. Didn't I tell you to get 'em while I got the worms?”

”No.”

”Well, now, that's strange. But I did mean to, sir. What are we to do?

Go back?”

”No, no! Don't let's waste time.”

”But we can't catch no fish without a hook.”

”We don't want to catch any fish.”

”But we want people to think we do.”

”Yes; and if they see us with rods down by the water, they will think so.”