"Heaven knows!"
"Godfrey!" cried Lady Markham, and she threw herself sobbing on her
knees.
"Oh, father, father!" cried Lil, running to him and catching his hand,
but only to be snatched up to his breast and kissed passionately;
"don't, pray don't go away. You'll break poor mother's heart."
"Hush, child!" said Sir Godfrey, sternly. "Do you think I wish to leave
all who are dear to me for the risks of war? Remember there is such a
thing as duty."
"Yes, father," sobbed Lil, nestling to his breast.
"Scar, my boy, what have you to say? You have heard the king's throne
is in danger, and he calls upon his loyal west-country gentlemen to come
to his help. Are we loyal or are we not?"
"Loyal, father, of course."
"And you say, then?"
"That you must go, father. Yes, you must go."
"Right! my brave boy, right!" cried Sir Godfrey, seizing the lad's hand.
"I must go--at once. And you, while I am gone, will be your mother's
help and support--your sister's protector."
Scarlett did not speak, but looked his father firmly in the face.
"I shall leave everything in your hands, and from this day forward you
must cease to be a boy, and act as a calm and thoughtful man. I make
you my steward and representative, Scarlett. Do your best, and by your
quiet, consistent conduct, make yourself obeyed. You understand?"
"I hear what you say, father."
"Well, sir, why do you speak in that hesitating way?"
"Because, father, I shall not be here."
"Scarlett!" cried Sir Godfrey, in a tone full of displeasure.
"Don't be angry with me, father," cried the lad. "You are going away--
because the king wants the help of every loyal heart. Well, father, you
will take me too."
"Take--you? Scar! No, no; you are too young."
"I expected to hear you say that, but I shall soon be older; and, though
I am only a boy, I could be useful to you in a hundred ways. I suppose
I am too young to fight."
"Yes, yes; of course."
"Well, others could do the fighting. Couldn't you make me something--
your esquire?"
"Knights do not have esquires now, my boy," said Sir Godfrey, with a
smile; "but--"
He stopped short, while his son gazed at him eagerly, waiting for the
end of his speech.
"Yes, father--but--?" said Scarlett, after waiting some time.
"I was only thinking, my son, as to which was my duty--to bid you watch
over your mother and sister here, or to devote you to the service of
your king."
"Devote me to the service of my king, father," cried Scarlett, proudly.
"No, no, my boy," cried Lady Markham. "Don't try to stop me, mother,"
said Scarlett. "You know I should have to stay here in peace to take
care of you who are not in danger; but ought you not rather wish to have
me trying to watch over him who will be in the war?"
Lady Markham bowed her head. She could not trust herself to speak, for
her son's words had set his going in a new light. But she still
hesitated, clinging first to father, then to son, and ending by
exclaiming--
"Heaven's will be done! I can say no more."
"No, mother. Let me go, and I will do all I can to protect my father."
She gazed piteously at him through her tears, and then cast herself
sobbing upon his breast, while Sir Godfrey gravely set his daughter by
her mother's side, and laid his hand upon her head.
"Scarlett is right, dearest. He can do more good by embracing his
father's profession at once. He will learn to be a soldier, and--
perhaps--he may be able to protect me. Who can tell!"
Lady Markham took and kissed her husband's hand, and then once more
embraced her son, ending by taking her daughter to her heart, and
weeping over her silently, while Sir Godfrey paced the room.
"Yes, my boy?" he said suddenly, as he caught his son's eye.
"When shall you start, father?"
"To-morrow at the latest. Quite early in the morning, if we can get
away."
"So soon?"
"Yes. Have you begun to repent already?"
"Oh no, father; but I thought that I should like to go over to the Manor
to say good-bye."
Sir Godfrey held up his hand.
"Impossible, my boy. By the same despatch I learned that Colonel
Forrester--unhappy man!--has cast in his lot with the Roundheads. I am
told, too, that he has been harbouring one of the enemy's generals, who
has been about the country organising revolt against his majesty, under
the name of Captain Miles. Scarlett, my boy, the Forresters are the
enemies of the king, and therefore ours."
"Poor Fred!" said Scarlett, half aloud.
"Ay, poor Fred!" said Sir Godfrey. "Do you think it possible that you
could save him from this fate by bringing him over to us? He is your
friend, Scarlett?"
"Yes, father, but--"
"Yes, my boy, you are right. It would be a cowardly deed to try and
separate father and son. Would it were otherwise, for I like the boy."
"Like him, father? It seems horrible; just as if one was losing a
brother, and could not stretch out a hand. And you would not like me to
say good-bye to Fred, father?"
"You cannot now, my boy; neither while he is against us can I take
Colonel Forrester's hand again."
There was a painful pause here, broken by Lady Markham's sobs; and then,
with a sudden display of soldierly firmness, Sir Godfrey bent down and
kissed his wife.
"Come, my darling," he said, "remember your duty as the wife and mother
of two soldiers suddenly called away."
"I'll try," said Lady Markham, rising sadly.
"And succeed," replied Sir Godfrey, gently. "Come, Scarlett, my boy.
Time flies. You will choose which horse you like, and prepare the very
few necessaries that you can carry. We shall get our equipment at
Exeter, so work hard, as if you momentarily expected to hear the trumpet
call, `To horse.' Why, it stirs my blood again, after all these years
of idleness. That's better, my darling. Women should not weep when
those they love are about to leave on duty, but give them smiles."
"Smiles, Godfrey!" said Lady Markham, sadly.
"Yes, smiles. Every soldier who goes to fight does not get hard blows
or wounds. Many escape everything, and come back covered with glory and
full of the sense of duty done. There, Scarlett, my boy, away with you
and pack your valise. Recollect you are a soldier now."
Scarlett dashed at his mother, kissed her, and then, bewildered by
excitement, he hurried out to go to the stable and select the horse he
might need to carry him in many a perilous time; but before he reached
the long range of buildings where Sir Godfrey's horses led their
peaceful life, he was attacked by Nat.
"Here, Master Scar," he cried excitedly, catching the lad by the sleeve,
"is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"That the war's coming nigher our way, and they've sent for the master
to fight?"
"Yes, Nat; true enough," said the lad, proudly drawing himself up. "Sir
Godfrey and I are going off to the wars to-morrow morning."
"You, Master Scar? You?"
"Yes, Nat; to-morrow."
"Why, dear heart alive, Master Scar, lad," cried Nat, laying his hand
affectionately on the boy's shoulder, "it seems only t'other day as you
used to come and coax me to leave my mowing and go on hands and knees to
make a horse for you to ride, and now you're talking about going to the
war."
"Yes, Nat. Time goes."
"But, dear lad," cried the gardener, letting his hand slide down to
Scarlett's biceps, "why, you haven't got the muscle in your arm to
handle a scythe, let alone a sword to mow down men."
"I can't help that, Nat," cried Scarlett, angrily. "Let go. There'll
be muscle enough to thrash you some day."
"I hope so, dear lad. But try and thrash brother Samson first. I
should like to see you do that."
"Don't talk nonsense. And come along. I want to look at the horses."
"But are you really going, Master Scar?"
"I--am--really--going, Nat, and I want to settle which horse I shall
ride. So please say no more about it."
Nat took off his hat and scratched his head, his face wrinkling up all
over as he followed his young master to the stables, just like one of
his own pippins which had been lying in the apple loft all through the
winter.
Then, as they reached the door, and Scarlett entered, Nat put on his
cap, gave his knee a slap, and with one set of wrinkles disappearing
from his countenance to make room for another, like a human dissolving
view, he burst out into a low chuckle.
"That'll knock the wind out of old Samson's sails! A miserable,
cowardly, fat-headed old puddick. He wouldn't have the courage to do
that."
"Nat!"
"Coming, Master Scar;" and Nat hurried into the stables to find his
young master standing beside the light cob his father often rode.
"Hullo, Master Scar, sir, thinking about having Moorcock?"
"Yes, Nat. My father is sure not to take him for his charger, and he
would suit me exactly."
"Well, yes, sir, I dare say he would. But why not have Black Adder?"
"Because I thought my father would like him."
"Nay, sir; master'll choose Thunder, as sure as can be, and--Hush! Here
he is."
"Well, my boy, have you made your selection?" said Sir Godfrey, as he
entered the stables, where eight horses raised their heads to look round
and utter a low whinny.
"Yes, father; I have been hesitating between Moorcock and Black Adder,
but I thought you would like the black."
"No, my boy, I have made up my mind to have Thunder."
"I think I'll take Moorcock all the same," said Scarlett, thoughtfully.
"He will suit you better now. Two years hence, I should have said take
Black Adder."
"Why not take 'em both, Master Scarlett?" said Nat, respectfully.
"Black Adder knows me by heart, and I could ride him and take care of
him when you didn't want him, or he'd do for master if Thunder was out
o' sorts."
"Why, Nat, my good fellow," said Sir Godfrey, smiling, "you will be here
at the Hall, helping to protect her ladyship and cutting cabbages."
"No, I shan't, Sir Godfrey," replied the gardener, with a stubborn look
in his bluff English face. "I shan't be here, but along o' you and
Master Scarlett, and 'stead of cutting cabbages, I shall be cutting off
heads."
"Nonsense, man!" said Sir Godfrey, but with far less conviction in his
tone.
"Beg your pardon, sir, but I don't see no nonsense in it. I've
sharpened scythes till they cut like razors, and if you don't believe
it, look at our lawn. Think, then, if I take my best rubber with me, I
can't sharpen a sword?"
"Oh, nobody doubts that, my man; but--"
"Why, look here, Sir Godfrey, I'll keep yours and Master Scar's swords
with such an edge on 'em as shall frighten your enemies into fits.
You'll let me go, won't you, dear master? I can't stay behind." Sir
Godfrey shook his head. "Master Scarlett, sir, put in a word for me.
Don't go and leave me behind. I'll be that faithful and true as never
was."
"Nobody doubts that, my man."
"Then let me go, Sir Godfrey. Why, see how useful I can be. I can wash
for you, and cook for you--anything, and cut a few armfuls of heath of a
night to make your beds. And, look here, gen'lemen, soldiers on the
march never gets a bit o' vegetable; but if there's any within a dozen
miles of where you are, you shall always have it. So there!"
"You do not know the hardships of a soldier's life, my good fellow,"
said Sir Godfrey, as he patted the neck of the noble-looking,
dark-dappled grey in one of the stalls. Nat laughed.
"Well, master," he said, "if you gen'lemen as never gets yourselves wet
can bear 'em, I should think I can. Let me go, sir, please." Sir
Godfrey hesitated.
"Well, my lad," he said, "I must warn you of the risks of what you ask.
We both go with our lives and liberties in our hands."
"All right, sir; and I'll take my life and liberty in my hand, though I
don't zackly know what you mean."
"I mean that any day you may be cut down or shot."
"Oh, that, Sir Godfrey! Well, so's our flowers and fruits every day.
That's their chance, I suppose, and I'll take mine same as you take
yours. Maybe I might help to keep off a bit o' danger from both on you,
and I don't suppose Master Scarlett would let any man give me a chop, if
he could stop it."
Sir Godfrey gave his horse a final pat on his fine arching neck, and
walked back out of the stall, to stand gazing full at his man, who
slipped off his hat, and drew himself up awkwardly in soldierly fashion.
Then, without a word, and to Nat's dismay, he turned to his son.
"Yes," he said; "take Moorcock, my boy, and the stoutest saddle and
bridle you can find."
Then he walked straight out of the stables, leaving Nat gazing after him
in dismay.
"And me with such arms, Master Scar!" he cried, in a protesting tone.
"Look here, sir."
He stripped off his jerkin and rolled his shirt up over his knotted
limbs, right to the shoulder, displaying thew and sinew of which a
gladiator might have been proud.
"Well, Master Scar, sir, as I'm not to go, I wish I could chop off them
two arms, and give 'em to you, for you'd find 'em very useful when you
came to fight."
Just then the stable door was darkened by the figure of Sir Godfrey, who
looked in, and said sharply--
"Scarlett, my boy, I have been thinking that over. It would be wise to
take Black Adder too, in case one of our steeds breaks down."
Nat's ears gave a visible twitch, and seemed to cock towards the
speaker, as he continued--
"I'll leave it in your hands to settle about Nat. You can take him if
you wish."
He walked away, and in an instant Nat was squatting down, and going
through what is known to boys as the cobbler's hornpipe for a few
moments, a triumphal terpsichorean performance, which he ended directly,
and ran to the wall, ducked down head and hands, till he planted them on
the stone floor, and, throwing up his heels, stood upon his head, and
tapped the wall with the backs of his boots.
"Nat, come down," cried Scarlett, laughing. "Why, what does that mean?"
"Mean, sir? Why, I feel as if I could jump out o' my skin."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a-going along o' you, and to show my brother Samson as
we've got some stuff in our family."
"But I didn't say that you were to go."
"No, Master Scar; but you're going to, aren't you?"
Scarlett was silent.
"Oh, Master Scar, sir, don't you run back. Do, do pray take me. Ah, I
see a twinkle at the corner of your mouth. You're only teasing a
fellow. I may go, sir?"
"Yes, Nat; and I'm very, very glad."
Nat startled the horses by throwing his cap to the roof of the stable,
and made them tug at their halters, but it did not seem to matter to
him, for he caught up a pitchfork, shouldered it, and began to march up
and down, shouting rather than singing a snatch of a song he had heard
somewhere in the neighbourhood, where the war fever had been catching
more men than they knew--
"`So it's up with the sword that will fight for the crown,
And down with the--down with the--down with the--'
"I say, Master Scar, what comes next?"
"I don't know at all. But I'll tell you what must come next."
"Yes sir."
"Pack up and be ready for the march to-morrow, and we've got to say
good-bye."
"Yes, Master Scar, and glad I'll be when it's over, for there'll be some
wet eyes in the Hall, both parlour and kitchen, before we set away."
Nat was right. There were tears, many and bitter, for master and man
that night; and next morning when, after tying a scarf round her son's
shoulder, Lady Markham clung to him passionately, till, with a last
hasty kiss to his sister, a final embrace to his mother, Scarlett set
spurs to his sturdy horse, and galloped off across the park to where Nat
was waiting, and there he drew rein to allow his father to come up.
Sir Godfrey rode fast till he was within about twenty yards, when he
signed to them to ride on, and the trio went forward slowly till they
were at the top of the slope, where they instinctively turned to take a
farewell look at the old Hall and the handkerchiefs waving adieu.
"So peaceful and happy," said Scarlett to himself; and then, with a
curious sensation as of a film being drawn over his eyes, he turned
away, pressed his horse's sides, and when he strained round in the
saddle again to look back, it was to see the tops of trees growing about
his home, and the moorland spreading away to the sea. Nothing more.
"Hah! I'm glad that's over, Master Scar," said Nat, with a sigh of
relief as they went gently along the lane which opened upon the
high-road lying to west and east, and there crossed it and led on
towards the Manor.
They were within twenty yards of the cross-roads, when Nat looked
cautiously back, to see if his master was within hearing, and seeing
that he was not, he chuckled and said softly--
"Master Scar, sir."
"Yes," said Scarlett, starting from a reverie full of recollections
about the times he and Fred had traversed that road on very different
missions to the present.
"I was just thinking, sir, that I'd give every penny I've saved up again
I get married, which may happen some day, to see our Samson come
shuffling up yonder lane. How he would stare, and how mad he would be,
and--"
"Hush, Nat. Look!"
The ex-gardener sat up, round-eyed and as if turned into stone, while
the clatter of horse's hoofs behind told that Sir Godfrey had set spurs
to his horse, and was riding on to join them, which he did, drawing rein
as they reached the cross-roads, an act duly imitated by the group of
three horsemen coming up the lane from the opposite direction, and there
at the intersection of the great main western road, the two little
parties sat gazing at each other, accident having arranged that master,
son, and servant from Hall and Manor should be exactly opposite to each
other, gazing in each other's eyes.
For full a minute no one spoke, and then Thunder, Sir Godfrey's charger,
threw up his noble head and whinnied loudly what might have been taken
as a defiance.
"Now, Master Scar," whispered Nat, "isn't the master going to give the
word. It's war now, and we can soon do them."
"Silence!" cried Sir Godfrey, sternly; and then, turning to Colonel
Forrester, he raised his plumed Cavalier hat, the colonel responding by
lifting the steel morion he wore.
Then it was as if Sir Godfrey's command had had its effect upon all
present, for they gazed straight at each other, Nat and Samson with the
look of a couple of angry dogs waiting to be let loose and fight; the
two lads in a puzzled manner, as if ready to shake hands, and held back
by some invisible chain; and their fathers with a haughty look of anger
and disdain.
Sir Godfrey was the first to speak in a stern tone of voice, as he
looked straight in Colonel Forrester's eyes.
"May I ask, sir," he said, "in which direction you are going?"
"No, sir," was the calm reply. "You have no right to make such a
demand."
"Then I will address you in a more friendly spirit, Colonel Forrester.
The road here to the east leads towards the king's followers--the gentry
of the west who are gathering together beneath his banner to put an end
to the disorder and anarchy now running riot through the land. You
will, I presume, as a loyal gentleman, join us, and we can ride
together."
"Is this banter or earnest, Sir Godfrey?" replied the colonel, as the
two boys sat with their ears tingling.
"Earnest, Colonel Forrester. What other course could I expect an
officer to take?"
"Then, if it be in earnest, sir--no; I ride not with you to help to
bolster up a tyranny which makes every true man in England blush for his
country."
"Colonel Forrester!"
"Sir Godfrey Markham!"
There was a pause, during which the two old friends gazed defiantly at
each other, and then Colonel Forrester continued--
"No, sir; I ride to the west, to join those whom you call the inciters
to riot, anarchy, and confusion; but whom we, as true, honest
Englishmen, think of as those who are fighting to free our land and to
rescue it from the degradation to which it has been brought. Let me
entreat you, sir, as a gentleman, to think twice before you take the
road to the east, for the way is open still to the west. Ride with us,
Sir Godfrey. So old and gallant a soldier would be most welcome to our
ranks."
"And a traitor to the king, whose commission I hold, and whose uniform I
shall once again wear."
"Traitor!" said Colonel Forrester, starting, and his hand darted to the
hilt of his sword; but he drew it back with a hasty "Pish!"
"Yes, sir, traitor, as you seem disposed to prove; but I warn you in
time. The king will prove the master over the wretched band of
anarchists who have risen against him."
"Enough!" said Colonel Forrester. "That has to be proved."
"Proved or no, sir, I command you to ride with me or to return to your
home. You are in arms against the king, the government, and the law of
this land. Surrender!"
"Sir Godfrey, too much commanding of slaves to your wishes has rendered
you absurd of speech."
"Do you hear me, sir?" cried Sir Godfrey. "I order you to follow me."
Colonel Forrester's hand went again to his sword, but he snatched it
back.
"I cannot answer your intemperate words, Sir Godfrey," he said; "and I
will not presume to utter so vain a command to you. This is free
England, sir, where every man who dares to think, thinks according to
his belief. We have been old friends; our boys have grown up together
as brothers, but the exigencies of our political faith sunder us widely
apart. Ride you your way, sir, and I pray you let me go mine; and may
our ways be farther and farther separated, so that we may never meet
again till it is in peace."
As he spoke, he turned his horse, and rode slowly away down the western
road, leaving Sir Godfrey chafing angrily, and fidgeting with the hilt
of his sword, as he sat gazing after his old friend calmly ignoring his
presence, and followed by his son and his serving-man.
"I ought to arrest him--a man openly in arms against the law; an enemy
to his majesty, who may work him terrible ill. But I cannot do it; I
cannot do it. Old friends--brothers; our wives who have been as
sisters."
He paused for a few moments, gazing after the retiring figures, and then
jerked his horse round so sharply that the poor beast reared.
"Left! Forward!" cried Sir Godfrey then, and he rode on to the east,
followed at a short distance by Nat and his son.
Before they had gone a dozen yards, Nat, who was fidgeting about in his
saddle, evidently in a state of considerable mental perturbation,
wrenched himself round and looked after the Manor people, to see that
Samson was waiting for him to do so; and as soon as he did look, it was
to see a derisive threatening gesture, Samson, by pantomime, suggesting
that if he only had his brother's head under his arm, he would punch his
nose till he made it bleed.
"Ur-r-r-r!" snarled Nat, with a growl like that of an irritated dog.
"What's the matter, Nat?"
"Matter, sir? See that Samson--ah, he's a rank bad 'un--shaking his
fist at me, and pretending to punch me? Here, I must go and give it him
now."
"No, no," cried Scar, catching at Black Adder's rein. "Your orders are
to follow your colonel."
"But are we to let that brother of mine insult his majesty's troops?"
"We can afford to treat it with contempt," said Scarlett, solemnly,
though Nat's words and allusions made him feel disposed to laugh.
"But I want to treat it to a big leathering, Master Scar. Here, sir,
mayn't I ride after him and fetch him off his horse?"
"No; certainly not."
"But, Master Scar, what could your father be thinking of? Here had we
got three of the ugliest Philistines in Coombeland in our hand, and
we've let 'em go to blight and freeze and blast everything. What could
Sir Godfrey be thinking about?"
"Nat."
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know what is a soldier's first duty?"
"To fight, sir."
"No: to obey orders."
"But we aren't soldiers yet."
"I think we are; so be silent."
"Yes, sir; but if I only had leave, I'd draw my sword, gallop after that
bad brother of mine, and fetch him off his horse, or jackass, or
whatever the miserable beast is that he has his legs across."
"And kill him? Your own brother?"
"Kill him? Not I, sir. He arn't worth it. No; I'd take him prisoner,
nearly knock his head off, and then I'd tie his hands to the tail of my
horse, and drag him to the king's camp in triumph."
Scarlett made no answer, for he had no faith in his servant's threats;
and together they rode on and on after Sir Godfrey, over the pleasant
moor, and on to the cultivated lands, and then on and on still into the
darkness, which seemed, as it thickened, like the gross darkness of war
and destruction, sweeping down upon the fair and sunny west.
So thought Scarlett Markham, as he still rode on through the darkness,
and then his thoughts returned to home, and his mother's attitude as she
flung herself upon her knees, her clasped hands toward heaven, as she
uttered a prayer for the protection of those she loved.
Sir Godfrey made no sign. He merely turned from time to time to see if
those he led were close behind, and then rode slowly on to join those
whose hands were raised against their brothers--father and sons to
plunge into the terrible warfare, which, once begun, seemed to know no
end.