are a crop-ear and a rebel," said Nat, for his fall had hurthim, and made him disagreeable.

  "Silence, sir!" cried Fred, as he made a gesture as if to strike theex-gardener a blow with the flat of his sword.

  "Shan't silence," said Nat. "You're not my master. Rebels can't bemasters, and you daren't hit me now I'm tied up, much as you'd like to.Cowards, all of you!"

  "Beg pardon, captain," said Samson, "but may I untie his arms, sir, andhave him down under the trees with our buffs off? I could give him sucha leathering in five minutes."

  "Silence! Forward! Samson, rein back;" and they rode slowly on tillthe outskirts of the camping place were reached, sentries challengingand men cheering the little party as they came in with their captivesright to where the regiment lounged about the camp-fires.

  Here Colonel Forrester strode out from his tent, followed by half adozen officers, all ready to cheer the boy who had so successfullycarried out the reconnaissance.

  "Any one hurt?" asked the colonel, looking very cold and stern, andhardly glancing at his son.

  "Only a few scratches and bruises, sir. We took the whole party."

  "That's well. Which is the leader? Here, you!"

  Scarlett paid no heed to the command, but a couple of the troopersseized his arms, and hurried him before the colonel.

  "Which way has the main body of your forces gone, sir?"

  "You had better follow and find out for yourself, Colonel Forrester,"said the prisoner, coldly. "You will get no information from me."

  "Scar Markham!" exclaimed the colonel, in astonishment. "My poor boy, Iam sorry that we should meet like this."

  "And I am glad, sir," cried Scarlett, excitedly, "for it gives me anopportunity to say that I, too, am sorry to see you like this, a rebeland traitor to your king."

  "Silence, sir! How dare you! Take the prisoners away, and see thatthey are well used."

  "Yes, father," replied Fred; and he saw the five men disposed of, andthen led Scarlett to his own little tent which he had placed at hisdisposal, and saw that he had an ample supply of food.

  He then took his own, of which he was in sore need, and began to eat insilence, furtively watching the prisoner, who remained silent, andrefused the food, though he was famishing.

  Fred's anger had subsided now, and remembering the old days before thesetimes of civil war and dissension, he said quietly--

  "I am sorry I have nothing better to offer you."

  Scarlett turned upon him sharply, with a flash of the eye, as if aboutto speak; but he turned away again, and sat looking straight before him.

  There was a long silence then, during which Fred thought how hard it wasfor his old friend to be dragged there a prisoner, and he said softly--

  "I was only doing my duty, Scar. I was sent out to take the party seenfrom our outposts."

  "Have the goodness to keep your pity for those who need it, crop-ear,"said Scarlett, scornfully; "and recollect that I am, though a prisoner,one of his Majesty's officers, one who holds no converse with rebels."

  Fred's cheeks flushed again, and his brow wrinkled.

  "Very well," he said angrily. "We are fighting on opposite sides, but Idid not know that we need insult each other when we met."

  As he spoke he left the tent, and Scarlett winced, and his eyessoftened.

  "Poor old Fred!" he said below his breath; "and I used to think he waslike a brother."

  It was a glorious evening as Fred Forrester strolled away from the tent,stopping to speak to one of the sentries about the prisoner in thelittle tent, though he felt that he need hardly take any precaution, forScarlett was not likely to try to escape and leave his men behind.

  "Wonder whether we shall ever be friends again," he thought, "and beback at the old places as before. This terrible fighting cannot alwaysgo on. What's that?"

  A great deal of shouting and laughter in the centre of a little crowd ofsoldiers took his attention, and one of the voices sounding familiar, hewalked slowly toward the group, hardly caring in which direction he wentso that it was away from his tent.

  "What are they doing?" he asked of one of the men.

  "Don't quite know, sir. Teasing one of the prisoners, I think."

  Feeling that his father would be angry if the prisoners were annoyed inany way, he walked sharply to the throng, and, as he reached it, heheard a familiar voice say--

  "Now, that's what I call behaving like a brother should, gentlemen. Hegoes away into bad company and disgraces his name, lets his hair growragged and greasy and long, and comes here a prisoner with a nasty dirtyface, so what have I done? I give him my supper because he was hungry,and he ate it all, and called me a crop-eared rebel for my pains. Soafter that I washed his face for him and cut his hair, and made him lookdecent, but I didn't crop his ears, though the shears went very nearthem two or three times. But look at him now."

  There was a roar of laughter at this, and Fred could hardly keep fromjoining in, so comical was the aspect of Sir Godfrey Markham's oldservant, as he stood there with his hands bound behind him.

  For, as Samson said, his brother was now quite clean, and he had cut hishair, which had grown long, in a bad imitation of a Cavalier's. Butthis was not merely cut off now, but closely cropped, so that Nat's headwas round and close as a great ball.

  "All right, Sam," he said, as his brother came close to him. "Wait abit till our side wins, and then perhaps I may take you prisoner, and ifso--"

  "Well, if you do--what then?"

  "Wait, my lad, and see."

  Fred Forrester could never after fully explain his feelings. He leftthe group feeling as if some spirit of mischief had taken possession ofhim, and kept suggesting that he too had fed his brother, had given upeverything to him, and been reviled for his pains. Why should not heshow Scarlett Markham that courtesy was due to those who had made himprisoner of war? As it was, his old companion seemed to have grownarrogant and overbearing. He had spoken to him as if he were a dog, andlooked at him as if he were one of the most contemptible objects underthe sun.

  "No," he said, with a half-laugh, "I could not do it."

  Then he recalled a long list of injuries he had received from Scarlett,things which had made his blood boil, and he felt tempted again.

  But his better self prevailed the next minute, and, shaking his head, hereturned to his tent, to find that after all Scarlett had partaken ofthe food, and had now thrown himself down on Fred's cloak and gone tosleep.

  As he lay there in the dim light, Fred gazed at his old companion'shandsome young face, flowing curls, and soiled but still handsomeuniform, with something like envy. But this passed away; and soon afterhe lay down outside the tent, to fall into a fit of musing, which wasmingled with the pace of sentries, hoarse orders, and the blare oftrumpets. Then all was silent, and he fell fast asleep, out there onthe bare ground, only to awaken at the morning calls.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

  A LESSON IN SELF-CONTROL.

  "You will take twelve men as escort, and guard those prisoners to NewtonAbbott; there you will give them up, and return as quickly as you can tome."

  "Yes, sir. The men need not be bound?"

  "Yes; every one."

  "Scar Markham, father?"

  "Yes; you must run no risks. You might meet a party of the enemy, andif your prisoners fought against you, what then? Let them be boundwhile on the road. They will have comparative freedom when you havegiven them up."

  The stern school of war in which Fred Forrester was taking his earlylessons of discipline and obedience had already taught him to hear andto obey.

  This was after a halt of three days in their temporary camp, duringwhich the careful general of the little army had thought it better torest and recruit his men than to weary them in a vain pursuit at a timewhen they were pretty well exhausted with previous work.

  Fred had seen a great deal of the prisoners during the time, but onlyfor the estrangement between him and his old companion to grow greater.For Scarlett
was suffering bitterly from the reverses which had befallenhis party, and was in agony about his father's fate. He had tried toobtain some news of the division to which they had been attached, butall he could learn was that in the late engagement it had been cut topieces, and its components who remained had fled in all directions,while he could not discover whether his father had been among the manyslain.

  Stung by his sufferings, and irritable to a degree, he was in no mood tomeet Fred's advances, looking upon him, as he did, as one of hisfather's murderers, and when he did not give him a fierce look ofresentment, he turned his back upon him, and treated him with thegreatest scorn and contempt.

  Their relations under these circumstances did not