nothing good to say."
"Oh, Samson, there is no bad news?"
"No, sir; there's no bad news at all."
"Then what do you mean? What have you heard?"
"Don't, don't ask me, my lad."
"But I do ask you, and I will know."
"I only know what the men think, and of course that may mean nothing."
"What do they think?"
"Now, look ye here, Master Fred," cried Samson, appealingly, "what's thegood of your bullying me into saying things which will only make youcross with me, and call me a thundering idiot, or some other prettything like that?"
"But anything's better than suspense, and I want to know the worst."
"Well, then, you can't," said Samson, gruffly. "There aren't no worse,because it's all guessing."
"Well, then, what do they guess?"
"Now, look ye here, Master Fred--is it fair to make me tell you, and putyou in a passion; and you a-standing there with a sword by your side,and another in your hand?"
"Speak, sir--speak!"
"Very well, sir; here goes. And if you fly in a passion, and doanything rash to me, it will only be another triumph for my brotherNat."
"Will you speak, sir?"
"Yes, I'm going to, sir; but one must make a beginning. Well, then,Master Fred, it's only hearsay, and you know what hearsay is. Some oneheard one of the prisoners say that he saw Sir Godfrey go down wounded,and young Master Scarlett jump across him, fighting like a madman; andthen people were driven all sorts of ways, but not before there was aregular burst of fire sweeping along; and they think that Sir Godfreyand poor Master Scarlett was overtaken by the flames. Master Fred!Master Fred! don't take on like that. It's only what they say, youknow, dear lad, and it may be all wrong."
The rough fellow laid his hand upon his master's arm, as Fred turnedaway.
"But it's what I fear--it's what I fear," he groaned. "And my fatherthinks the same; I know he does. Oh, Samson, how horrible! howhorrible! If I only knew who fired the place!"
"Oh, I know that, sir," said Samson. "One of the prisoners boastedabout it--not one of the gentleman Cavaliers, but one of the roughfellows like me. He says he set the place a-fire in two places, when hesaw the game was up; and he said that it was so as we shouldn't havecomfortable quarters--a mean hound!"
"Poor Scar! poor old Scar!" groaned Fred, walking slowly away, to tryand get somewhere alone with his sorrow, as he thought of his brave,manly young friend.
He walked on till he was right away down by one of the clumps of treesat the west end of the lake; and as he groaned again he started, for hethought he was alone, but Samson had followed him softly.
"Don't 'ee take on, Master Fred, lad. Be a man. I feel as if I shouldlike to sit down and blubber like a big calf taken away from its mother,but it won't do, lad, it won't do; we're soldiers now. But if I couldhave my way, I'd just get them all together as started this here war,and make 'em fight it out themselves till there wasn't one left, andthen I'd enjoy myself."
"Don't talk of enjoyment. Samson, my lad."
"But I must, for I just would. I'd go and get the sharpest spade Icould find, and take off my jerkin, and bury what was left of 'em, andthat would be the finest thing that could happen for old England."
"Nonsense, man! You don't understand these things," said Fred, sadly.
"And I don't want to, sir. What I understand is that instead offighting the French, or the Spaniards, or any other barbarous enemies,we're all fighting against one another like savages; and there's thebeautiful old Hall burning down to the ground like a beacon fire on ahill, and who knows but what it may be our turn next?"
"What, at the Manor, Samson?"
"Yes, sir. Why not?"
"Heaven forbid, man! Heaven forbid!"
"And I say `Amen,' sir. But come back to camp, and let's get you a bitof something to eat; and, I say, sir, you did give my hand a deep cut.Think that new sword you've got's as sharp as the one I whetted foryou?"
"I don't know, Samson," said Fred, drearily. "I hate the very name ofsword."
"And so do I, sir, proud as I was the first day I buckled mine on. Iaren't much of a smith, but I can blow the bellows like hooray, and whenthe time comes, as it says in the Bible, I'll make the fire roar whilesome one hammers all the swords and spears into plough-shares andpruning-hooks, and cuts all the gun-barrels up into pipes. That'sright, sir; come along."
Fred said no more, but, with their shadows darkly shown upon thetrampled grass, the pair walked back to camp.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE.
NAT IS LOST.
"Have I been to sleep, Samson?"
"Yes, sir, sound as a top. You dropped off after you had that bread andcider."
"And the Hall?--is it still burning?"
"Yes, sir; a regular steady fire down at the bottom, with the wallsstanding up all round."
"And the prisoners?"
"All gone, sir. They packed 'em off to the west'ard in a couple ofwaggons, and a troop of our men as escorts. Fine fellows, sir, all butthat one as fired the Hall. I couldn't help being sorry to see howwounded and helpless they were. But how they carried it off, laughingand talking there till they'd been seen to, and were tired and gotstiff! Then it began to tell on 'em, and they had to be lifted into thewaggons and laid on the straw almost to a man."
"I hope they'll all recover," said Fred, sadly.
"So do I, sir, even if we have to fight 'em again. But we shall see nomore of the poor lads for a long time, unless some of their partyrescues them, cures them, and the game begins over again. Feel ready,sir?"
"Ready?"
"Yes; it's about twelve o'clock, and I thought you might like to comeand help me bully that ugly brother of mine."
"Why, Samson," said Fred, with a sad smile, "every one says you two areso like."
"So we are, sir, to look at," replied Samson, grinning; "but I neversaid I was good-looking, did I?"
"Yes, I'm ready," said Fred, rising from his heather couch. "Oh, howstiff and cold I am!"
"You've just wakened; that's why. You'll be as fresh as fresh soon.Come along, sir, and we'll give that rascal such a bullying."
"With care and chicken," said Fred, with a miserable attempt at beingjocose.
"Now, don't I keep telling you it's only to make him strong, so as hecan feel it all the sharper when I give him the big beating I'vepromised him? Come along, sir."
Fred made a few inquiries as to the state of affairs; learned that thecamp was quite at rest, and that he was not likely to be called on duty,and then, with a terrible depression of spirits, increasing at everystep, he walked on beside Samson on as dark a night as he could recall.
"Dark, sir?" said the ex-gardener, in response to a remark. "Well, yes,sir, it is; but it don't make any difference to us. We could find ourway where we are going with our eyes shut."
The darkness was not their only difficulty: they had to avoid thesentinels again, and neither could say for certain whether any changeshad been made.
Still, both had been on moorland, over bog, and through the deepestwoods in the dark on trapping expeditions times enough. They had evenbeen in the darkness on the dangerous cliff slopes again and again, sothat they had no hesitation in going rapidly on till the lake had beenskirted and the wilderness reached, without their being challenged.Then the dense undergrowth was entered, and they stood listening for afew moments.
There were distant sounds--the snort of a horse where it was picketed, alow humming as if some sentry were cheering his dreary watch byrecollections of an old west-country ditty, and then from a littledistance there was the half-hissing, half-grating cry of a white owl, asit flapped along upon its downy, silent pinions, while, through thetrees at the edge of the wood, there was a dull red light, which showedwhere the embers of the great oaken beams of the Hall sent forth theirdying glow.
"Let's go on," whispered Fred, just as something came gliding along theedge of the wilderness, and as they moved it utter
ed a piercing screech,turned, and swept away.
"Ugh!" ejaculated Samson; but Fred's hand was upon his lips, and theystood close together with throbbing hearts, wondering whether the twocries would alarm the nearest sentinel.
But they heard nothing, and as silently as possible stole in among thetrees, it being impossible to make any selection of route.
"How them owls do chill one, like, in a unked place like