To Fred's great satisfaction, the sturdy, serious-looking followers of
General Hedley treated the Hall and its surroundings with a fair amount
of respect.
They did not scruple to make bountiful use of the contents of the
garden; and, as far as they went, revelled on the productions of the
dairy, while they one and all declared the cider to be excellent.
So comfortable were the quarters, that the absence of news of the
expected reinforcements gave great satisfaction to all but the general,
who walked up and down Sir Godfrey's library fretting at the inaction,
and shaking his head at his young follower, who was for the time being
acting as his secretary, but with no despatches to write.
"It's bad, Fred Forrester--bad," he said. "When you have anything to
do, let it be done firmly and well. Let there be no procrastination.
Your father ought to be here by now."
"I don't think it can be his fault, sir," said Fred, stoutly.
"It's somebody's fault," said the general, angrily. "No, no; I am sure
it is not his. Well, I must have the men out to do something. No rust,
Fred Forrester, no rust. What are you going to do?"
"Take my place in the regiment, sir, if you have no more writing for me
to do."
"Don't want to go over to the Manor, then, to see the ladies, and ask
how all are?"
"Of course I should like to, sir, but I was not going to ask leave."
"You can go, my lad. There is no news of the enemy, and the scouts are
well out in every direction. Be on the look-out though, and I cannot
give you more than three hours."
Overjoyed at this unexpected piece of good fortune, Fred hurried to his
sleeping quarters, to try and give a few touches to his personal
appearance, for, after months in the field, he did not feel at all proud
of his sombre and shabby uniform.
This done, he made off just as the little force of well-mounted, sturdy
men under the general's command were filing slowly out, and making for
the broad open park, where a long and arduous drill was to be carried
out.
It was a glorious day, and the prospect of being at home for even so
short a time, and seeing his mother and those who had been his best
friends was delightful. There was no sign of warfare anywhere, such as
he had seen in other parts, in the shape of devastated crops and burned
outhouses. But as he rose one of the hills that he had to cross, a
glint of steel, where the sun shone on a morion, showed where one of the
outposts was on the look-out. Further on, away to the left, he caught
sight of another, and knowing pretty well where to look, he had no
difficulty, sooner or later, in making out where the different vedettes
were placed.
"Puzzle an enemy to catch our weasel asleep," he said to himself,
laughingly, as he trotted on. "Why, if all our leaders were like
General Hedley and my father, the war would soon be at an end--and a
good thing too."
He rode on, thinking of the reception he would get, and hoping that Lady
Markham would not behave coldly to him; and then the watchfulness of the
pupil in military matters came out.
It was not his business to see where the outposts were, but it seemed to
come natural to him to note their positions.
"I might have to place men myself, some day," he said; "and it's as well
to know."
"Yes; there he is," he muttered, as he caught sight of another and then
of another far away, but forming links of a chain of men round the camp,
well within touch of each other, and all ready to gallop at the first
alarm.
"There ought to be one out here," said Fred, at last, just as he was
nearing the Manor; and for the moment he was ready to pass him over, and
think of nothing but those whom he had come to see, but discipline
mastered.
The spot he was approaching was a little eminence, which commanded a
deep valley or coombe, that went winding and zigzagging for miles, and
here he looked in vain for the outpost.
"Strange!" thought Fred; and he rode on a little further, till he was
nearly to the top of the eminence, when his heart leaped, and by
instinct he clapped his hand to his sword. For there, with lowered
head, cropping the sweet short grass among the furze and heath, was the
outpost's horse; and this, to Fred's experienced eye, meant the rider
shot down at his post.
Half dreaming a similar fate, he looked sharply round, and then uttered
an angry exclamation, as he touched his horse's flanks, and rode forward
to where the man lay between two great bushes.
But not wounded. The secret of his fall was by his side. By some means
he had contrived to get a large flask of wine up at the Hall, and the
vessel lay by him empty, while he was sound asleep.
"You scoundrel!" cried Fred, closing up and bending down to take hold of
the man's piece, where it stood leaning against a bush.
As he raised it, a distant flash caught his eye, and there, winding
slowly and cautiously along the bottom of the coombe, with advanced
guards, came a strong body of horsemen, whose felt hats and feathers
here and there told only too plainly that they belonged to the
Cavaliers.
To his horror, Fred saw that some of the advance were coming up the side
of the valley not two hundred yards away, and that unless the alarm were
given, the little force so calmly going through their manoeuvres in the
park would be surprised. At the same moment, he saw that he had been
noticed before he caught sight of the approaching enemy, but he did not
hesitate. Raising the heavy piece, he fired, and at the shot the
grazing horse tossed its head and cantered to his side, leaving its
master to take his chance.
"He'll get no wine as a prisoner," said Fred, bitterly, as he spurred
his horse to a gallop, just as shot after shot from the other outposts
carried on his alarm--while, following a shout to him to surrender, came
shots that were not intended to give the alarm, but to bring him down.
Fred glanced back once, and saw that the advance guard of the enemy were
in full pursuit, a sight which made him urge on his steed to its utmost,
while as he glanced back on getting to the top of the next hill, he
could see that the enemy had divided into two bodies, and throwing off
all concealment, they were thundering on, so as to get up with those who
would spread the alarm, intending to spread it themselves, and to a
dangerous extent.
"They'll overtake me," muttered Fred, as he looked back and saw how well
some of the leading men were mounted, and also that some of those in the
main body were better mounted still, and were rapidly diminishing the
distance between them and their advance guard.
Right and left and well ahead of him he could see their own outposts
galloping in toward the centre, but, strive how he would, he felt that
he must be overtaken long before he could reach the Hall.
"They will not kill me," he said to himself. "They would only make a
prisoner of me, unless some fierce Cavalier cuts me down."
"But I have saved them from a surprise," he continued; and he once more
tried to get a little speed out of the worn-out horse he rode.
It was a neck-or-nothing gallop, and over and over again Fred would have
been glad to change his mount, and leap on to the trained horse which
kept its place riderless by his side. But the enemy were thundering on
in full pursuit, and to have paused meant certain capture.
On they rode, the Cavaliers behind, with their blades flashing, and
their feathers streaming, and in the excitement of the race he could not
help thinking of the gallant appearance they made, as they spurred one
against the other in their reckless endeavour to overtake him.
He had forsaken the road, and turned on to the rough moorland, a more
difficult way, but he and his horse were more at home there, and he knew
how to avoid the roughest rocky portions, and the pieces of bog, while
there was always the hope that the pursuers might try to make some cut
to intercept him, and so find themselves foundered in the mire.
The race had lasted some minutes now, and the fugitive was in full hope
that the alarm had been spread by the inner line of vedettes, when a
bright thought flashed across his brain.
He glanced back, and could see about a dozen of the Cavaliers some forty
yards behind, and a few hundred yards behind them a couple of regiments.
"They will follow my pursuers," he argued; and as he came to that
conclusion, he drew his right rein, and bore off a little, making
straight for a deep hollow where the peat lay thick, and it was
impossible for a horse to cross.
If they followed him there, he could swerve off to the right again as he
reached the treacherous ground, and edge safely round it, while the main
body of his pursuers would in all probability plunge in.
"That would ensure their defeat," he said to himself, as in imagination
he saw the gallant regiments floundering saddle deep in the black,
half-liquid peat.
As he had hoped, so it seemed to be. His nearest pursuers turned off
after him, so did the main body, and, almost indifferent now as to
capture, so long as he could save those at the park, he turned to look
back, when, just as the Cavaliers were thundering on to destruction, one
horseman dashed in front, waving his plumed hat, and meeting them--
sending all but about half a score round to the left, so that they
skirted the morass, just as they were on the point of charging in.
"Some one who knows the danger," muttered Fred, as he galloped on.
"Scarlett, of course. It must have been he."
Another five minutes, with the foremost men not half a dozen yards
behind, brought Fred to the top of a hill, beyond which he could see the
park, and to his horror the general's men were only then hurrying up
into formation, with their officers galloping excitedly to and fro.
"Hold out, good old horse," panted Fred,--as he glanced back once more
to see that capture must be certain now. "Another five minutes, and I
could be with them," he sobbed out breathlessly; and, as if his horse
understood him, or else nerved by the sight of his fellows so near at
hand, he lay out like a greyhound, just as a trumpet blast rang out on
Fred's left from the main body of the Cavaliers, a call whose effect was
that Fred's pursuers who had skirted the right of the morass, turned off
to the left, and rode on so as to regain their places in the ranks,
where their presence would be of more value than in pursuing a few
scattered outposts.
To an ordinary commander, the act of the Royalist leader seemed utter
madness. The horses of his men were half-blown by a long gallop, and
they were about to charge a body of sturdy cavalry, whose mounts were
rested and fresh.
But there was no hesitation. As they drew near, the trumpets rang out,
steel flashed, feathers flew, the horses snorted, and with a wild
hurrah! the Royalist troops literally raced against the advancing
Parliamentarians. There was a shock, the crash of steel, a roar as of
thunder, horse and man went headlong down on the green turf of the Hall
park, and to General Hedley's chagrin, and in spite of the valour of his
officers, and the stern stuff of which his men were composed, the
gallantry and dash of the first regiment was such that it seemed as if a
wedge had been driven through his ranks, and his discomfiture was
completed by the following charge of the second Cavalier line.
One minute his well-trained horsemen were advancing in good formation to
meet the shock of the Royalists, the next, discipline seemed to be at an
end, and the Parliamentarians were in full flight.