Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story

there, my boy," said Sir Godfrey,hastily.

  "Why not, father? My mother and Lilian are there."

  "True, Scarlett, but--"

  "Mrs Forrester would be only too eager to help us."

  "Her husband's enemies?"

  "She is affording protection to my mother. Yes," added the lad, after apause, "I must go there."

  Sir Godfrey remained silent.

  "Father."

  "Yes."

  "You frightened me by being so still."

  "I was only thinking, Scarlett," replied Sir Godfrey, sadly--"thinking Iwas wrong to speak as I did. There, I have fought my best, and it is myturn to lie down. I would we were both prisoners in such good hands."

  "Then you consent to my going, father?"

  There was another pause before Sir Godfrey said in a low, weary voice--

  "Yes, my boy; you must throw yourself upon their mercy. This is no timeto nurse one's hatred against one's foes. When shall you start?"

  "Directly I can get unseen from the opening, for you must haverefreshment, father, and it is absolutely necessary that I should beback to-night."

  "Heaven's will be done," said Sir Godfrey, softly; and, after a longfirm pressure of the hand, he added, "Be careful, my boy; keep yourliberty if you can. The king wants the help of every loyal hand."

  "And you will not mind my leaving you?"

  "No, my boy. I dare say, in my weak state, I shall pass many hours insleep."

  Even then Scarlett felt that he could not go, and it was not until longafter, when he felt the absolute necessity of obtaining food and help,that he at last tore himself away, but with the one satisfaction ofknowing that Sir Godfrey had dropped into a heavy sleep.

  It was while he was once more making his way to the opening thatScarlett realised how faint and weak he, too, was. But, summoning allhis energy, he stood at last beneath the opening, trying to make outwhere the sentinel or sentinels might be.

  He drew his sword ready for action, and then, with an impatientmovement, restored the weapon to its sheath, realising fully that if hewas to succeed, it must be by cunning stratagem, not by blows.

  All was silent, but the occasional twitter of some bird. If a watcherwas there, he gave no sign of his presence, and quite a couple of hoursmust have passed away before, utterly tired out, and hearing not theslightest sound, Scarlett determined to venture so far as to get hishead above the top of the opening.

  No; he felt that would be only to court seizure, for his position wouldbe so disadvantageous that he could not defend himself if he wereseized. Besides, he would be betraying his father into the enemies'hands.

  In spite of his trouble and anxiety, a smile came upon his lip, as hethought of a plan by which he might make the watcher or watchersdiscover their presence. He believed thoroughly that he had not so farbeen heard, and, under that impression, he took hold of one of thehazels above his head, and, trusting to old forest recollections in thedays when he had hunted rabbits with Fred Forrester, he shook the boughabove him so as to make a sharp rustling noise, and uttered with hiscompressed lips a sharp screeching sound such as is made by the littlewhite-tailed furry denizen of the wood when trapped or chased by astoat.

  "That will bring him to see," thought Scarlett, as he felt that such asound would suggest to a foraging soldier a capital addition to hiscamp-fire supper.

  But there was not a sound in reply, and, beginning to doubt his beliefthat there was a sentry watching, he uttered the shrill squeal again.Then his heart gave a bound, for there was a movement close at hand, asof some one trying to pass through the bushes, but it was not continued;and, while the lad was wondering, there came a low groan.

  "No sentinel! Some poor wounded fellow who has crept into the oldwilderness for safety," thought Scarlett.

  "But will it be an enemy?" he asked himself.

  "No; one of ours," his heart replied. "An enemy would have called forhelp."

  "Ah, if I was only as I used to be!" came in a low-muttering tone. "Ishe in agin?"

  "Nat!" cried Scarlett, the word starting from his lips involuntarily,and without his seeming to have the power to stay it.

  "Eh!" came from close by, "who called? Master Scar, that you?"

  "Yes, yes," cried Scarlett; and, leaping up, he caught at a bough, whichsnapped in two, and he dropped down again. But his next attempt wasmore successful, for he drew himself out, and the next minute waskneeling by his old follower, as Nat lay nearly hidden among theundergrowth.

  "I say, don't play tricks, sir," said Nat, feebly. "I aren't dreaming,are I?"

  "Dreaming, Nat?"

  "I mean, I've been all in a squabble, with things mixed up in my head,and people talking to me, and rabbits squealing, and Master Scarshouting `Nat,' I aren't asleep now, are I?"

  "Asleep now, Nat? No, no, my dear old fellow," cried Scarlett, whosevoice sounded thick with emotion. "But you are badly hurt eh?"

  "Well, tidy, Master Scar, tidy. They give it to me pretty well. ButI'm better now, dear lad; I'm better now. Oh, oh, I say, Master Scar,lad, hit me in both eyes hard. I'm so weak I'm going to blubber like agal."

  "No, no, my dear old Nat," whispered Scarlett. "Keep up, man, keep up.I want you to help me."

  "Help you, Master Scarlett? Why, I don't believe I could even pull mysword out of its sheath!"

  "But you will soon, Nat," whispered Scarlett, eagerly. "I want yourhelp. My father is wounded, and in hiding close by here."

  "The master?"

  "Yes, yes."

  "Sir Godfrey?"

  "Yes, yes, Nat; badly wounded. We were nearly burned in the fire, whenthe Hall was in a blaze; but we got out, and he is badly wounded, and Iwas going to try and get food."

  "Oh, if that's it," said Nat, feebly, "it's time there was an end to allthis nonsense. Here, give's a hand, Master Scar. I must get up."

  The poor fellow made an effort, then sank back with a groan.

  "Pitchforks and skewers!" he muttered. "Didn't that go through one."

  "Lie still, Nat."

  "Needn't be afraid, Master Scar," groaned the poor fellow, with acomical look in his young master's face. "I don't think I shall get upyet."

  "No; lie still. I'm going to try and steal away to the Manor."

  "Eh? Then if you come across my brother Samson, you knock him down,sir. Don't you hesitate a moment. Knock him down."

  "Nonsense! Now look here."

  "Oh yes, sir, I'm a-looking," said Nat, dismally; "and a pretty dirtyface you've got."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why, it's all black, as if you'd been--"

  "Why, Master Scar, what yer been a-doing to your hair?"

  "Hair? My hair?"

  "Yes, sir. Them Roundhead vagabonds cut it all off before, but now it'sall scorched and singed away."

  "Eh? Yes. I suppose so," said Scarlett, sadly. "I did not know, Nat.I suppose it was in the fire."

  "And your face all scorched too."

  "Is it, Nat? I did feel that it smarted and was sore."

  "Why, my poor dear lad, what have you been a-doing of? And me not withyou, but lying here like a pig in a sunny hole, pretending I was bad!"

  "Hush! not so loud. Never mind the singeing, Nat. There, keep quiettill I come back with some food. Do you want a drink of water?"

  "Food? What did you say about some food?"

  "I'm going to try and get some, Nat. I am starving."

  "Think of that now!" cried Nat, feebly. "Why, I've got some here.Master Scar! Now, let me think. I'm all in a muddle like in the head,and can't tell what's been dreaming and what isn't; but I've got a sorto' notion that some one come in the dark, and talked to me or talkedabout me, and then said they'd leave me something to eat."

  "Dreaming, Nat, my poor fellow! Your loss of blood has made you alittle off your head."

  "Well, then, if I was dreaming, there aren't nothing to eat, MasterScar. But if I warn't dreaming, there's something close by me here,and--There, Master
Scar, it warn't a dream!"

  "Nat!" cried Scarlett, joyfully, as the poor fellow feebly brought forththe food Fred and Samson had left. "May--may I take some?" he faltered.

  "Take it all, my dear lad, take it all, and yeat it. I couldn't yeatanything now. Shouldn't mind a big mug o' water. That's about mytune."

  In spite of himself, Scarlett broke off a piece of