CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
RALPH PLEADS GUILTY.
It was a savage fight, and before Mark and Ralph, who rushed desperatelyinto the _melee_, not to lead their men, but to separate them, couldsucceed in beating down the menacing pikes, several more were wounded;and at last they drew off, with their burdens greatly increased byhaving on either side to carry a couple of wounded men.
"We must put it down to Purlrose," said Mark bitterly, as he ran backfor a moment to speak to Ralph. "But what do you say--oughtn't we tohave our duel now?"
"If you like," said Ralph listlessly; "Perhaps we'd better, and then Imay be half killed. My father may be a little merciful to me then."
Mark leaned forward a little, so as to try and make out whether his allywas speaking in jest or earnest; and there was enough feeble light inthe east to enable him to read pretty plainly that the lad was in deadlyearnest.
"No," he said sharply; "I don't think we'll have it out now. My head'stoo queer, and my eyes keep going misty, so that I can't see straight.You'd get the best of it. I don't want to meet my father, but I'drather do that than be half killed. The poke from that pike was quiteenough to last me for a bit."
He turned and trotted off after his men, while Ralph joined his, to hearthem grumbling and muttering together, he being the burden of theircomplaint.
Nick Garth and Ram Jennings seemed to be the most bitter against him,the latter commencing boldly at once.
"Oh, Master Ralph," he cried, "if your father had been here, we shouldha' paid them Edens for hanging back as they did."
"They did not hang back," cried Ralph angrily; "they fought verybravely."
"What!" cried Nick. "Well, I do like that. But I don't care. Dessay Ishall be a dead 'un 'fore I gets to the Castle, and then we shall seewhat Sir Morton will say."
"Well, you will not hear, Nick," said Ralph quietly.
"No: I shan't hear, Master Ralph, 'cause I shall be a dead 'un, Isuppose. But I'm thinking about my poor old mother. She'll break herheart when they carry me to her, stiff as a trout, for I'm the only sonshe has got."
This was too much for the wounded men even. They forgot theirsufferings in the comic aspect of the case, familiar as they all werewith the open enmity existing between Mother Garth and her son, it beingcommon talk that the last act of affection displayed toward him had beenthe throwing of a pot of boiling water at his head.
The laugh lightened the rest of the way, but they were adoleful-looking, ragged, and blood-stained set, who bore one of theirnumber upon a litter formed of pike-staves up the zigzag to the men'squarters at day-break; and Ralph felt as if he had hardly strengthenough to climb back to his window and go to bed, after seeing hisroughly-bandaged men safely in.
But he made the essay, and when half-way up dropped back again into thegarden, just as a thrush began to pipe loudly its welcome to the comingday; and the blackbirds were uttering their chinking calls low down inthe moist gloom amongst the bushes on the cliff slope.
"Can't leave the poor fellows like that," he muttered. "Oh dear, howstiff I am! Father said he always felt it his duty, when he was asoldier, to look well after his wounded men."
He stood thinking for a few moments, and then began to tramp down thesteep path to where the shadows were still dark, and a mist hung overthe rippling stream. Then taking to the track beside it, he trudged on,with the warm glow in the east growing richer of tint, the birdsbreaking out into joyous song, and minute by minute the vale, with itswreaths of mist, growing so exquisitely beautiful that the black horrorsof the past night began to seem more distant, and the cloud of shadowresting above his aching head less terrible and oppressive.
And as the sun approached its rising, so did the beauties around the ladincrease; and he tramped on with a sensation of wonder coming upon him,that with all so glorious at early morn in this world of ours, it shouldbe the work of the highest order of creatures upon it to mar anddestroy, and contrive the horrors which disfigure it from time to time.
"And I've been one of the worst," he said to himself bitterly. "No: itwas to stop others from doing these things," he cried quickly. "Oh, ifwe had not failed!"
He quickened his pace now, and, just as the sun rose high enough tolight up the vale with its morning glow, he came in sight of the openingwhere Master Rayburn's cottage stood.
"I shall have to wake him up," said the lad, with a sigh; "and oh! whata tale to tell!"
But he did not have to waken the old man, for as he drew nearer hesuddenly caught sight of his friend, standing with his back to him,hands clasped and hanging in front, head bent and bare, and thehorizontal rays of the rising sun turning his silver locks to gold.
The lad gazed at him in surprise, but went on softly till he was quiteclose up, when Master Rayburn turned suddenly, smiled, and said:
"Ah! Ralph Darley, my lad, that's how I say my prayers, but I'm a goodChristian all the same. Why, what brings--here, speak, boy," he criedexcitedly--"torn, covered with dirt--and what's this?--blood? Oh,Ralph, boy, don't say that you and Mark Eden have been meeting again."
"Yes," said Ralph slowly; "we parted only a little while ago;" and hetold the old man what had taken place, while the latter eagerly examinedthe speaker to seek for hurts.
"Then--then--you two lads--on the strength of what I said--attackedthose ruffians in their den?"
"Yes, Master Rayburn," said the lad bitterly; "and failed--miserablyfailed. Do, pray, come up and see our poor fellows. One of them isbadly hurt, and the others have nearly all got wounds."
"But you--you, boy. I don't see the cause of all this blood."
"No," said Ralph wearily. "I'm not hurt. I suppose that came throughhelping the men."
"Ah! and Mark Eden--is he hurt?"
"No: we two ought to have had the worst of it. He had a thrust on thehead, but his steel cap saved him, and he walked home."
"But Sir Morton? he did not know you were going?"
"No: we kept it to ourselves."
"He knows now, of course?"
"Nothing at all. We've only just got back."
"I'll come at once," said the old man; and hurrying into the cottage, hetook some linen and other necessaries, put on his hat, and rejoined thelad, making him give a full account of the attack and failure as theywalked sharply back to the Castle.
"You don't say anything, Master Rayburn," cried Ralph at last. "Do youthink we were so very much to blame?"
"Blame, my boy?" cried the old man. "I always liked you two lads, and,wrong or right, I think you've done a grand thing."
"What?"
"I never felt so proud of you both in my life."
Ralph smiled.
"That's very good of you, Master Rayburn," he said, "and it's a bitcomforting; but I've got father to meet by-and-by."
"And so have I, my boy," cried the old man warmly, "to take the blame ofit all. For it was my doing from beginning to end. I incited you ladsto go and do this, and I shall tell your father it is only what he andSir Edward Eden ought to have done months ago."
"But we failed--failed," groaned Ralph dismally.
"Failed! You have not done all you meant to do, but you have read thoseruffians a severe lesson, and next time--"
"Ah! next time," sighed Ralph.
"Come, Ralph! Be a man. Nothing great is ever done without failurefirst. Your father will be angry, and naturally. He'll scold andblame, and all that; but I know what he is at heart, and he'll think asI do, that he need not be ashamed of his son, even if he has failed."
The quarters were reached soon after, and the sufferer who had beencarried back received the first attention, the others all having theirturn; and just as the last bandage had been applied, Sir Morton, who hadbeen having a walk round, came upon the pikes, stained and blunted,leaning against a buttress of the wall. This brought him to the men'squarters, and in utter astonishment he stood gazing at the scene.
"Ah! good morning," said Master Rayburn, in answer to his wondering lo
okfrom his son to the injured men and back. "They'll be easier now. Onlyone hurt much, and he'll be all right again after a few days' rest."
"But what does this mean?" said Sir Morton; and his son stood out, andin a frank, manly way, once more related the adventures of the night.
Sir Morton's face grew sterner and harder as he heard everything to thefinish; and he was just about to speak, when Master Rayburn broke in:
"My doing, from beginning to end. I told them they ought to do it."
"And a nice business your interference has made, sir!" cried Sir Mortonangrily. "You see now that it is impossible for two such adverseelements to get on together. The brutes! to turn upon those who hadbeen fighting by their side!"
"Are you speaking about your men or Sir Edward Eden's?" said the old mandrily.
"Eden's, of course," cried Sir Morton angrily.
"Six of one and half-a-dozen of the other," said the old man; "and alldue to the evil teaching of their masters, my dear old friend. Come,Darley, it's of no use to cry over spilt milk; the boys have set theirfathers a splendid example, and driven in the thin end of the wedge.The sooner you and Eden send it home the better."
"I must try again."
"Of course. I don't ask you to make friends. It would be absurd; butyou must stir now, and I shall tell Eden the same, and that he cannotfor very shame leave the work undone that his son has begun. Ralph,lad, you go to bed, and sleep all day. I am doctor enough to insist toyour father that you are not to be disturbed. I must go up to the BlackTor at once, for I suppose I am badly wanted there."
The old man hurried away with the remainder of his bandages, and SirMorton signed to his son, who followed him to the room into whichCaptain Purlrose had been ushered.
"Now, Ralph," began Sir Morton, but his son interrupted him:
"Guilty, father," he cried dismally, "and I have failed."
"There, do as Master Rayburn said," cried Sir Morton, "and--well--I'lltalk to you another time--I'm--er--I'm not very angry, my boy, but--there, be off. It was very brave, and like a soldier's son."
"I wonder what Mark Eden's father has said to him," thought Ralph as hethrew himself wearily upon his bed.