Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story

in the woodabove.

  A trifle that he would not have heeded at another time, but which nowsent a thrill of hope through him, for it told of light and liberty, andhelp for the sufferer lying in that gloomy vault.

  But he wasted no time, passing over the crackling refuse of broken woodand stones which here impeded his way, till almost directly after he hadcleared all this, and made a turn, catching sight of the brightstar-like light low down by the floor of the passage--the opening thathe had made, and by which the water which had been gathering probablyfor generations had been drained away.

  He was soon at the rough wall which stopped the arch, and, going down onone knee, he listened, for peril had made him cautious, besides whichthe lessons of life he was receiving in his regimental work taught thenecessity for being prepared for enemies at every turn.

  All seemed to be perfectly still, and as far as he could judge it wasearly morning, soon after daybreak. The first rays of the sun appearedto be brightening the surface of the lake as he tried to peer throughthe orifice, and every now and then the cry of the water-fowl and thesplash of water endorsed his belief in there being no danger near.

  Feeling satisfied that there was no danger, he returned to the brokenopening and stopped short as he heard a sharp rustling, followed by asound that was evidently the sharp utterance of some one impatient athis position, or because one expected did not come.

  Did whoever it was know of the existence of the hole through which thefaint light streamed down, showing the configuration of the roughbranches which covered the broken place? It seemed only probable, and,feeling the necessity for the greater caution, Scarlett stepped slowlyand carefully among the broken fragments till he had passed the riskyspot, and then hurried on as rapidly as he could till he reached thesteps, and, mounting them cautiously, he stood once more in the chamber.

  Feeling rapidly about, he uttered a cry of joy, for his hand touched hisfather's brow; and as it did so, he felt it raised by the burningfingers of the sufferer, who began talking quickly.

  "Quick! Which way did they go--Lady Markham--my child Lilian? Why doyou not speak? Tell me; they are not in the burning house?"

  "Father! don't you know my voice?" whispered Scarlett.

  "Know your voice--know you? Yes, yes, my boy. Scar, lad, help me.They must be somewhere here. I am looking for them. Yes, somewhere inthe house."

  "No, no, father; they are in safety down at the Manor."

  "Here, I tell you, sir. Help me to find them. Quick! They are in theburning house and Scar, my boy, is that you?"

  Then, seeming to drop off to sleep as his son knelt by him, there was asigh or two, and then he was breathing regularly, although theinspirations sounded faint and low.

  Scarlett could contain himself no longer, but, rising from his knees, hehurried down the few steps and along the lower passage, pausing for amoment before stealing carefully beneath the broken portion of thearched tunnel. For there could be no doubt about the matter: there wasa rustling sound somewhere above that did not seem such as would be madeby any wild animals likely to haunt the forest, and a certainty wasgiven to his ideas by a low-muttering arising, followed by a hastyejaculation as of impatience or pain.

  So near did this sound, that Scarlett remained motionless in theobscurity of the tunnel arch, afraid to stir for quite an hour, duringwhich he listened, feeling assured that this opening had been discoveredby the enemy, and that they had placed a sentry there to trap any onewho attempted to escape.

  "Oh!" ejaculated Scarlett at last, softly, as what he believed to beenlightenment flashed across his brain. "Why did I not think of thatbefore? Fred Forrester, of course! He remembered our discovery, and hehas explained all to his father, with the result that there aresentinels all about, waiting to take every poor wounded wretch who seeksto escape."

  It was a painful thought, for it troubled him to think that Fred hadbeen so unprincipled as to betray their old boyish secret.

  "He might have been content to fight with his party against ours, andnot make use of his knowledge to do his old friends an evil turn."

  The feeling of bitter anger mingled with scorn increased as he stoodthere in weary inactivity, longing to rejoin Sir Godfrey, but dreadingto stir, for fear he should bring danger upon his father's head.

  And all this time he might be awake, and in grievous suffering; perhapsdying, and feebly stretching out his hands for help, even believing thathis son had left him there to die.

  Scarlett could bear the agony of his thoughts no longer; at any cost hemust pass beneath that opening, and rejoin his father, and to this endhe stepped forward softly, to find that he had planted his foot upon arotten stick fallen from above, and lightly as he trod, the dry, decayedpiece of wood parted with a loud noise.

  Scarlett turned cold, and the chilly moisture gathered upon his brow andwithin the palms of his hands.

  "It is all over!" he muttered, as his hand went involuntarily to thehilt of his sword; and then he dragged it from its sheath, and raisedthe point, thinking of how strong his position was, and how few menwould dare to descend with that sharp point awaiting the first enemy whocame.

  Then, half stifled by holding his breath, he began to breathe freelyonce more, for there came a low sigh from above, then a faint rustling,and then the regular, low breathing of some man asleep.

  Scarlett stayed no longer, but stepped quickly across the wood-strewnpatch of the floor, and then hastened along the passage, and up the fewsteps in the total darkness; and after a very little groping about,found himself beside his father, who was sleeping peacefully, while hishead was cool, telling how the fever of his wounds had gone down.

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

  COMPANIONS IN MISFORTUNE.

  Scarlett Markham passed some hours by his father's side, listening tohis breathing in the darkness, and from time to time taking his hand asa low moan was uttered, accompanied by a restless movement; but as thetime passed on, in spite of anxiety and his own weariness and pain, anintense desire for food of some kind kept on attacking him, and eachtime with more force.

  What was he to do?

  Had he been alone the task would have been simple. He would have goneat once to the broken archway, waited his opportunity, and crept out.Then he would have done his best to escape, and the worst that couldhave happened to him would have been seizure by the enemy, who, in spiteof party hatred, would have given their prisoner food.

  But he felt that he could not take this course, and risk capture, whichwould mean imprisonment to his father as well.

  The difficulty was solved at last by an uneasy movement on Sir Godfrey'spart. He seemed to start suddenly from sleep, and, after listening fora few moments, Scarlett said gently--

  "Are you in pain, father?"

  "Ah, my boy, you there?" said Sir Godfrey, feebly. "I was puzzled andconfused. I recollect now. Have I been asleep long?"

  "Yes, father, I think so. I cannot tell, for I have been asleep too."

  "Where are we?"

  Scarlett explained, and from time to time Sir Godfrey uttered a fewwords of surprise and wonder, till his son had finished.

  "I could hardly have thought it possible," he said, as Scarlett ceased."Then we are so far safe?"

  "Yes; but your wounds, father? What am I to do about getting help?"

  Sir Godfrey remained silent for a few minutes, and then said quietly--

  "I am terribly weak, boy, and in a good deal of pain; but from what Iknow of such things, I do not think my wounds are either deep ordangerous, and if this is so, nature is the best chirurgeon. But yousay there is a way out?"

  "Yes, father; and I am afraid that Fred Forrester has given notice, andthat it is watched."

  "The young villain!" muttered Sir Godfrey, and somehow those wordsseemed to send a sting through Scarlett's brain.

  After a silence, Sir Godfrey went on.

  "Well, my boy," he said, "I shall not be able to escape for days tocome. You must go and try and make your way to our
friends."

  "And leave you?"

  "Only for a time, my boy, of course. You must find some of our men, andcome and get me away."

  "I cannot leave you, father;" said Scarlett, firmly; and Sir Godfreyremained silent for a time.

  "Thank you, Scar," he said at last; "and of course I do not want to beleft. Can you propose any better way, for my thinking powers are veryweak?"

  Scarlett was silent in turn, and then he said quietly--

  "Yes, father; I will wait my chance, steal out, and then contrive tomake my way to some cottage where I can get food. I can bring it back,and we can continue to remain here in hiding till you are strong enoughto go."

  "Not a very pleasant prospect, Scar," said Sir Godfrey, "but I canpropose no better."

  "I might be able to make my way to the Manor."

  "No, no; you must not get help from