Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story

difficulty ingetting plenty of rough pieces, which they laid across, first like therafters over a shed, and then piled others upon them in the mostcareless-looking fashion, after which some long strands of ivy andbramble were dragged across, to act the double purpose of binding alltogether and looking natural.

  "But they seem as if they had been just placed there," said Scarlett,looking rather dissatisfied with their work.

  "Of course they do to-day; but before a week has gone by, they'll haveall their leaves turned up to the light, and go on growing fast. Now,then, who could tell that there was a way down there?"

  Scarlett was fain to confess that the concealment would be perfect assoon as the leaves were right, and a shower of rain had removed theirtracks.

  "And we shall not want to come here at all now, only get in by theproper way. I wish that hole was not broken through."

  "We should not have found it without."

  "Oh yes, we should," said Fred; "because some day we should have broughtcandles, and waded down to the mouth."

  "Well," said Scarlett, as they strolled away at last, "what's the goodof it all, now we have found it out?"

  "It doesn't seem quite so much now we have found everything; but stillit is interesting, and it will do to hide in when we want to get awayfrom everybody."

  "But we never do."

  "No," said Fred. "But never mind; there's no knowing of what use it maybe, and it's our secret, isn't it?"

  "Oh yes, it's our secret, Fred."

  "And how we could scare the servants now, by hiding and groaning."

  "Till my father examined and found it all out. I shouldn't like to lookhim in the face when he did."

  "No," said Fred; "it wouldn't be nice. I say, what stupids we shouldlook!"

  "Did you get up so early on purpose to come over here yesterday?" saidScarlett, suddenly.

  "No. I was woke up by hearing Captain Miles go."

  "Captain Miles? Who is he?"

  "I don't know; an old fellow-officer of my father, I think. I say,Scarlett, I'm to be a soldier."

  Scarlett laughed, and his companion felt nettled.

  "Well," he said, "I shall grow older and stronger some day."

  "Why, you couldn't pull a sword right out of its sheath," said Scarlett.

  "Couldn't I? Let's go into the house and try."

  "Come along, then," cried Scarlett; and the two lads ran right into theHall, where Fred seized an old weapon from one of the suits of armour,and proved his ability by drawing it from the sheath, Scarlett followinghis example.

  "Now, then!" cried Fred; "_en garde_!"

  Nothing loth, Scarlett crossed swords with him, just as his father camethoughtfully out of the library, and stopped to watch them.

  "I say, this old sword is heavy though," said Fred, as the point of thelong blade seemed attracted toward the ground.

  "It's because you haven't muscle enough," replied Scarlett, as theblades grated together. "Wonder whether this one ever cut off a man'shead?"

  "Is this an omen?" said Sir Godfrey to himself. "Friend against friend,perhaps brother against brother, all through our unhappy land. Well,Heaven's will be done! My duty is to my king."

  Meanwhile, the two boys were laughingly making a few cuts and guardswith the clumsy old weapons; but directly after they started apart inconfusion, as Sir Godfrey said aloud--

  "Boys, do you remember the words of Scripture!"

  Neither answered; but, with the points of the swords resting on the oldoak floor, they stared at him abashed.

  "`They that take the sword shall perish with the sword.'"

  There was silence in the grand old hall for a brief space, as the twoboys stood there in the centre, with the bright lights from thestained-glass windows showering down upon them, and the portraits ofScarlett's warlike ancestors seeming to be watching intently all thatwas taking place.

  Then Sir Godfrey moved slowly across the hall, paused and looked back,and then said gently--

  "Put the weapons away, my lads. Warfare is too terrible to be evenmimicked in sport."

  He sighed and passed through the farther door, leaving the boys gazingat each other in silence.

  "How serious he is!" said Scarlett, at last. "Let's put them away. Ithought he was going to scold us for taking them down."

  "Yes, I thought that," said Fred. "But I should like to be a soldier,all the same, only without any war. Ugh! only fancy giving a man a chopwith a thing like that," he added, as he replaced the weapon. "Here,I'm off home," he cried, as he ran to the door.

  "Good-bye, old soldier without any war. I say, Fred."

  "Well?"

  "That will be a capital place for you to hide in when you are a soldier,and the war comes."

  "That's right," said Fred, good-humouredly; "laugh away. I dare say Iam a coward, but I don't believe everybody is brave. Coming overto-night?"

  "Perhaps," was the reply; and Fred went off homeward at a trot, thinkingof how delightful it would be to grow into a man, and carry a sword andride about on a horse like Captain Miles.

  He thought a good deal about Captain Miles as he went home, and wonderedwhether he had gone to Plymouth.

  "Because he might have been going to Tavistock or Barnstaple."

  The recollection of the sturdy, keen-eyed soldier seemed to oust everyother thought from the boy's brain, and he saw in imagination thedistant figure as it mounted the rising ground, and, passing over,disappeared.

  "I wonder what he came for?" thought Fred. "It didn't seem like thevisit of a friend, and it could not be about business, because fathernever does any business now; but they were so serious, and my motherlooked so troubled."

  Fred gave his ear a rub, as if he were vexed.

  "I suppose it was thinking so much about that rabbit-hole of a place upat the Hall," he muttered. "I never thought any more about motherlooking so serious, and having tears in her eyes. I'll ask her what'sthe matter."

  He walked slowly on till he came in sight of the western road, whichlooked like a narrow path crossing the distant hill.

  "Why, there's somebody coming," he cried, as he sheltered his eyes tomake out what was evidently a mounted man moving slowly along the road."He's coming this way," said Fred, musingly. "I wonder who it is?"

  Not much of a matter for consideration, in modern days; but to thedwellers in that retired part of Coombeland, far away from a town, thecoming of a strange horseman was an event, and, regardless of where heput his feet, Fred went on trying to keep the mounted man in view, as hedisappeared at times in the hollows, and then came into sight again,evidently moving at a foot's pace.

  "It must be Captain Miles coming back," cried Fred, as the figuredisappeared from view in consequence of the lad having to descend into ahollow before rising the opposite hill.

  "That old place will be no end of a game when we have cleared it out,"mused the boy, as he went slowly down the hill. "It will be a lot oftrouble though, and we shall have to sweep and clear away the dust andcobwebs too. I wish we could set Samson and Nat to work, only we can'tdo that, because, if we did, it wouldn't be a secret place; and,besides, they would do nothing but quarrel, and get no work done.Wonder whether brothers always do quarrel. Why, they're worse than Scarand I are, though we do have a pretty good row sometimes."

  Ten minutes later he was mounting the hill, and, as he reached the top,he hastened his pace, so as to get within view of the coming horseman,who was for the moment shut out from view by a patch of woodland; butthe regular beat of the horse's hoofs came plainly enough.

  "Sounds in the distance just like my pony's trot," said Fred,thoughtfully; and directly after he burst out with a loud, "Oh!" full ofvexation in its tone. "Why, it's only old Samson, after all," he cried."Think of me taking him for Captain Miles!"

  He set off at a sharp run across the moorland, so as to cut off a greatpiece of the road, and reach a point by which the Manor gardener mustpass.

  Samson was not long in recognising him, and, checking
the speed of thestout cob he rode, the mutual effort brought the two together at thesought-for spot.

  "Here you, Samson, who told you to exercise my pony?"

  "Exercise, Master Fred? You look at him."

  "Look at him? I am looking at him. Poor old fellow! he's all in alather."

  "Yes; he hasn't had such a gallop for months."

  "How dare you, then! Jump off directly, and walk him home."

  "Shan't!" was the laconic refusal, accompanied by a grin.

  "What!" cried Fred, doubling his fists threateningly.

  "Shan't come off, sir. There!"

  "Oh, won't you!" cried Fred, seizing Samson by the leg, and proceedingas if to tilt him over.

  "You leave your father's special messenger alone, Master Fred, or you'llget into trouble."

  "Did my father tell you to take the pony?"

  "Course he did, and to take what he called a despatch."

  "Despatch?"

  "Yes. To Barnstaple."

  "What for?"

  "How should I know? It was a big letter, all tied round with ribbon andsealed up, and I've got another like it in here."

  As he spoke in a voice full of importance, he tapped a leathern walletslung over his right shoulder.

  "Why, Samson, who did you take it to?"

  "To that gen'leman who was here the other night."

  "Captain Miles?"

  "Yes. At Barnstaple, and some more gen'lemen was with him when I gotthere, and he read the letter, and they read the letter, and then theysaid they'd write another, and I was to go down and have some bread andcheese and cider, and I did--a lot."

  "I wonder what it means?" said Fred, as he walked on beside the pony,holding by its thick mane, for it was uphill.

  "I think I know, Master Fred."

  "You do? What is it?"

  "Well, sir, it's something to do with the king and the Parliament. Theywere talking about it at the Red Hind."

  "King and the Parliament?"

  "Yes, Master Fred; and there were some there as said we should mostlikely have to fight for our rights."

  "But we haven't got any rights to fight for."

  "Oh yes, we have, Master Fred," said Samson, importantly. "A man theretold me all about it."

  "What did he say?"

  "Well, sir, I don't quite understand, but they're trying to take ourrights away."

  "Who are?"

  "Well, that's what I didn't get quite clear, you see, sir. But it'ssome'at like this. Every man has--I don't quite remember what it was hesaid there, but I do recollect he said that if things were not altered,we should have to fight."

  Fred looked at him wonderingly.

  "I should have got it all quite pat, you see, only just as I was gettinginto the marrow of it and understanding it all, that captain sent forme, and give me the big letter I've got in here. And now I must hurryon." For the top of the hill was reached, and the pony broke into asharp trot without urging.

  But Fred kept hold of the mane, and ran easily by his side, coming soonafter in sight of Colonel Forrester, standing at the garden gate,evidently waiting for his messenger's return.

  As soon as he saw them descending the slope, he walked quickly forwardto meet them, holding out his hand for the despatch, and looking soanxious and severe that his son forbore to speak.

  "Take the cob round to the stables, and treat him well," said thecolonel, sharply, as he tore open the missive and began to read.

  Fred felt eagerness itself to know its contents, and he was about tostop, examining the missive the while with eager eyes; but, recollectinghimself, he went off at a trot after Samson, who had dismounted, and wasleading the pony.

  "Hope it's good news, Master Fred."

  "I dare say it is. I don't know."

  "The captain said I was a gardener, wasn't I; and I told him the truth,and said I was."

  "Why, of course, stupid."

  "Ah, you don't understand, Master Fred. It isn't every day that agardener has to carry despatches. And then he said, as he give me theanswer, `Well, you say you are a gardener, don't let the grass growunder your feet.' I didn't, Master Fred. Ask Dodder."

  "No need to ask him, poor old fellow," said Fred, patting hisfavourite's neck.

  "Fred!" came from the road.

  "Yes, father," cried the boy, and he ran back.

  "I thought you were by me, my boy," said the colonel, gravely, as helaid one hand upon his son's shoulder, and held the despatch in theother, gazing thoughtfully before him toward the old house they wereapproaching.

  "I hope you have not had bad news, father," hazarded Fred.

  "No, on the whole, good. It must come--it must come."

  Fred looked at him inquiringly.

  "What are you, Fred--sixteen, isn't it?"

  "Yes, father."

  "Ah, if you had been six and twenty, how useful to me you could havebeen!"

  Fred flushed.

  "I could be useful to you now, father, if you would let me be," he saidin an injured tone. "I could have ridden over to Barnstaple with yourletter quicker than Samson did, and I shouldn't have tired Dodder somuch."

  "Yes, I thought of that, Fred, but you are only a boy, and you were atplay."

  There was a silence for a few moments, and then Fred spoke.

  "Is it wrong for a boy to play, father?"

  "Heaven forbid. No; of course not. Play goes with youth, and it givesboys energy, strength, and decision. Yes, Fred, play while you can.Manfully and well. But play."

  Fred looked up at his father in a puzzled way, as he stopped short, andbegan beating his side with the despatch he had received. There was adreamy look in his eyes, which were fixed on vacancy, as he muttered--

  "Yes; I must be right. I have hesitated long, but it is a duty. Butwhat does it mean--friendships broken; the land in chaos; brotheragainst brother; perhaps father against son. No, no," he added, with ashudder, as he turned sharply on his boy. "Fred, my lad," he tried, "iftrouble comes upon our land, and I have to take side with those whofight--"

  He stopped short.

  "Who fight, father? You are not going to fight."

  "I don't know yet, my boy; but if I do, it will be for those I believeto be in the right. What I believe to be right, you, too, must believein, and follow."

  "Of course, father," said the boy, quietly.

  "No matter what is said against me, or how you may be influenced. Iknow about these matters better than you do, and I shall ask you totrust to me."

  Fred smiled, as if his father's words amused him, for it seemed absurdthat he should have any opinion against his own father.

  "Why, of course, I shall do as you tell me," he said, taking hold of hisfather's arm, and they walked together into the house, where MistressForrester, looking pale and large-eyed, was awaiting her husband'sreturn.

  She did not speak, but looked up in his eyes with so eager and inquiringan air that he bent down and kissed her forehead.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Oh, husband!"

  "It cannot be avoided. My duty is with the people. That duty I mustdo."

  "But home--me--Fred?"

  "You will be safe here," he said. "It is not likely that the tide oftrouble will flow this way."

  "But Fred," she whispered.

  "Fred. Ah, yes, Fred," said the colonel, thoughtfully.

  "Oh no, no, no," cried Mistress Forrester, in agony, as she saw herhusband's hesitating way, and suspected the truth. "No, no, husband, heis too young."

  "He will grow older," said the colonel, with quiet firmness. "Wife,when the country calls for the help of her son, he must give it freely.If your boy is needed in his country's service, he will have to go."

  Fred heard these words, and went slowly and thoughtfully away--thoughtfully, for his head was in a whirl--the coming of his father'smilitary friend--his father's old life as a soldier--and these hintsabout civil war.

  "I don't think I should mind," he said to himself, "not
if Scar wenttoo. He and I could get on so well together. Of course we should betoo young for regular soldiers, but we should soon grow older."

  Then he began to recall different things of which he had heard and read,about youths going off to the war in olden times to be esquires, andafter deeds of valour to become belted knights who had won their spurs.

  Fred's was not a romantic nature, for that night, quite late, after hehad gone up to bed, he sat at his window looking out at the starlit sky.And as he gazed all the thoughts of the evening came back to make himburst into a derisive laugh.

  "It's all nonsense," he said; "knights and squires never did half thethings they say. And if we had a war, and I had to go, I'm afraid itwould be all rough and different to life here at home. But if Scar wenttoo, I should not mind. They want all the men at such a time as this.Samson would have to go, and Nat, and no end of the farm lads about."

  Fred rose from his seat, and closed the window softly, for fear that heshould be heard, and at last lay down, but not to sleep, for his youngbrain was excited, and a feeling of awe came over him as he beganthinking of her who was sleeping only a few yards away.

  "If father goes and takes me with him, and there is a terrible war, whatwill my mother say?"

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  THE BEGINNING OF TROUBLE.

  "Godfrey!"

  "Hush, my darling; think of the children. Be firm. Be firm."

  "But it is too horrible."

  "Is this my dear wife speaking?" said Sir Godfrey, gravely, as he tookhis dame's hand.

  "Yes," said Lady Markham, excitedly. "Would you have me sit silent whensuch a demand is made?"

  Sir Godfrey's brow was knit, and his nether lip quivered as he heard hiswife's words, while Lil, who seemed alarmed, crept to her brother's sideand held his hand.

  "The demand is just, wife," said Sir Godfrey, at last. "I am a soldier,sworn to help my king."

  "You were a soldier once, love," interposed Lady Markham.

  "I am a soldier, wife. Still a soldier, though during these peacefulyears I have been allowed to live peacefully here at home. The time hasnow come when my master needs the help of all his loyal servants. Hecalls me to his help, and do you think I am going to play the coward andknave, and hide here in idleness while every rogue is striking at thecrown? Come: be a woman. Do your duty."

  "My duty is to those children, Godfrey," said Lady Markham, piteously.

  "And to your husband. You, as a brave, true woman, now that theperilous time has come when ruin and destruction threatens the kingdom,you, I say, should be the first to buckle on your husband's sword."

  "Father!" cried Scarlett, "are you going away?"

  "Yes, boy; I am summoned to Exeter. From there, perhaps to Bristol."

  "And when do you come back?"

  Sir Godfrey was silent for a few moments, and then said calmly--

  "Heaven knows!"

  "Godfrey!" cried Lady Markham, and she threw herself sobbing on herknees.

  "Oh, father, father!" cried Lil, running to him and catching his hand,but only to be snatched up to his breast and kissed passionately;"don't, pray don't go away. You'll break poor mother's heart."

  "Hush, child!" said Sir Godfrey, sternly. "Do you think I wish to leaveall who are dear to me for the risks of war? Remember there is such athing as duty."

  "Yes, father," sobbed Lil, nestling to his breast.

  "Scar, my boy, what have you to say? You have heard the king's throneis in danger, and he calls upon his loyal west-country gentlemen to cometo his help. Are we loyal or are we not?"

  "Loyal, father, of course."

  "And you say, then?"

  "That you must go, father. Yes, you must go."

  "Right! my brave boy, right!" cried Sir Godfrey, seizing the lad's hand."I must go--at once. And you, while I am gone, will be your mother'shelp and support--your sister's protector."

  Scarlett did not speak, but looked his father firmly in the face.

  "I shall leave everything in your hands, and from this day forward youmust cease to be a boy, and act as a calm and thoughtful man. I makeyou my steward and representative, Scarlett. Do your best, and by yourquiet, consistent conduct, make yourself obeyed. You understand?"

  "I hear what you say, father."

  "Well, sir, why do you speak in that hesitating way?"

  "Because, father, I shall not be here."

  "Scarlett!" cried Sir Godfrey, in a tone full of displeasure.

  "Don't be angry with me, father," cried the lad. "You are going away--because the king wants the help of every loyal heart. Well, father, youwill take me too."

  "Take--you? Scar! No, no; you are too young."

  "I expected to hear you say that, but I shall soon be older; and, thoughI am only a boy, I could be useful to you in a hundred ways. I supposeI am too young to fight."

  "Yes, yes; of course."

  "Well, others could do the fighting. Couldn't you make me something--your esquire?"

  "Knights do not have esquires now, my boy," said Sir Godfrey, with asmile; "but--"

  He stopped short, while his son gazed at him eagerly, waiting for theend of his speech.

  "Yes, father--but--?" said Scarlett, after waiting some time.

  "I was only thinking, my son, as to which was my duty--to bid you watchover your mother and sister here, or to devote you to the service ofyour king."

  "Devote me to the service of my king, father," cried Scarlett, proudly.

  "No, no, my boy," cried Lady Markham. "Don't try to stop me, mother,"said Scarlett. "You know I should have to stay here in peace to takecare of you who are not in danger; but ought you not rather wish to haveme trying to watch over him who will be in the war?"

  Lady Markham bowed her head. She could not trust herself to speak, forher son's words had set his going in a new light. But she stillhesitated, clinging first to father, then to son, and ending byexclaiming--

  "Heaven's will be done! I can say no more."

  "No, mother. Let me go, and I will do all I can to protect my father."

  She gazed piteously at him through her tears, and then cast herselfsobbing upon his breast, while Sir Godfrey gravely set his daughter byher mother's side, and laid his hand upon her head.

  "Scarlett is right, dearest. He can do more good by embracing hisfather's profession at once. He will learn to be a soldier, and--perhaps--he may be able to protect me. Who can tell!"

  Lady Markham took and kissed her husband's hand, and then once moreembraced her son, ending by taking her daughter to her heart, andweeping over her silently, while Sir Godfrey paced the room.

  "Yes, my boy?" he said suddenly, as he caught his son's eye.

  "When shall you start, father?"

  "To-morrow at the latest. Quite early in the morning, if we can getaway."

  "So soon?"

  "Yes. Have you begun to repent already?"

  "Oh no, father; but I thought that I should like to go over to the Manorto say good-bye."

  Sir Godfrey held up his hand.

  "Impossible, my boy. By the same despatch I learned that ColonelForrester--unhappy man!--has cast in his lot with the Roundheads. I amtold, too, that he has been harbouring one of the enemy's generals, whohas been about the country organising revolt against his majesty, underthe name of Captain Miles. Scarlett, my boy, the Forresters are theenemies of the king, and therefore ours."

  "Poor Fred!" said Scarlett, half aloud.

  "Ay, poor Fred!" said Sir Godfrey. "Do you think it possible that youcould save him from this fate by bringing him over to us? He is yourfriend, Scarlett?"

  "Yes, father, but--"

  "Yes, my boy, you are right. It would be a cowardly deed to try andseparate father and son. Would it were otherwise, for I like the boy."

  "Like him, father? It seems horrible; just as if one was losing abrother, and could not stretch out a hand. And you would not like me tosay good-bye to Fred, father?"

  "You cann
ot now, my boy; neither while he is against us can I takeColonel Forrester's hand again."

  There was a painful pause here, broken by Lady Markham's sobs; and then,with a sudden display of soldierly firmness, Sir Godfrey bent down andkissed his wife.

  "Come, my darling," he said, "remember your duty as the wife and motherof two soldiers suddenly called away."

  "I'll try," said Lady Markham, rising sadly.

  "And succeed," replied Sir Godfrey, gently. "Come, Scarlett, my boy.Time flies. You will choose which horse you like, and prepare the veryfew necessaries that you can carry. We shall get our equipment atExeter, so work hard, as if you momentarily expected to hear the trumpetcall, `To horse.' Why, it stirs my blood again, after all these yearsof idleness. That's better, my darling. Women should not weep whenthose they love are about to leave on duty, but give them smiles."

  "Smiles, Godfrey!" said Lady Markham, sadly.

  "Yes, smiles. Every soldier who goes to fight does not get hard blowsor wounds. Many escape everything, and come back covered with glory andfull of the sense of duty done. There, Scarlett, my boy, away with youand pack your valise. Recollect you are a soldier now."

  Scarlett dashed at his mother, kissed her, and then, bewildered byexcitement, he hurried out to go to the stable and select the horse hemight need to carry him in many a perilous time; but before he reachedthe long range of buildings where