The Cavalier let his head sink once more upon his pillow, and Fred went
slowly away, to go and watch the flames rising and falling as the Hall
burned rapidly, sending forth a glow of heat that could be felt far
away.
And now that the hurry and excitement were at an end, Fred had time once
more to think of those of whose fate he was still uncertain.
Just then a prisoner was being brought in, and he hurried to the spot,
but only to turn away disappointed, to go and gaze once more at the
burning pile, musing sadly on the times when he had passed such pleasant
hours about the place which had been to him as a second home; and
thinking, as he gazed through the open windows into the furnace within,
of the various rooms where every object was so familiar--picture,
ornament, carved cabinet, trophy--and now all turning to glowing embers.
"Seems a pity, Master Fred, don't it?" said a voice at his elbow.
"You here, Samson?"
"Yes, sir; just come from round at the back."
"Has the fire made its way there?"
"Oh, bless you, sir, it's been creeping and rushing and leaping over
everything! Even the big tool-house and fruit-room's burned. Such a
pity. Nice lot of tools all destroyed; and, not that I want to find
fault, but a deal better set than we ever had at the Manor. Why, there
was a barrow, sir, as run that light in your hands, no matter how you
filled it, as made it a pleasure to work."
"And all burned, Samson?"
"All burned into ashes, sir. I never could understand it, but it always
did seem hard as a man like brother Nat should have such a barrow as
that, while I had one as I was ashamed of."
"We must get to the wilderness to-night, Samson, somehow."
"Oh, he won't hurt, sir," said Samson, roughly. "He's right enough; but
I've got a bottle o' cider, and three bread-cakes, and half a roast fowl
to take with us when we go."
"That's right," said Fred, smiling in spite of himself; but only to turn
serious as an agonising thought shot through him, for a portion of the
roof of the Hall fell just then, and a whirlwind of sparks sprang into
the evening sky.
"Have you heard any news, Samson?" whispered Fred.
"News, sir?"
"Of Sir Godfrey and Scarlett?"
Samson stood gazing straight at the fire, his eyes half shut, and his
forehead a maze of puckers and wrinkles, and he seemed not to have heard
in the intentness of his watching the progress of the fire.
"Do you hear what I say?" reiterated Fred. "Is there any news of Sir
Godfrey and Scarlett?"
"Yes, I hear what you say, sir."
"Then why don't you speak?"
"'Cause I haven't nothing good to say."
"Oh, Samson, there is no bad news?"
"No, sir; there's no bad news at all."
"Then what do you mean? What have you heard?"
"Don't, don't ask me, my lad."
"But I do ask you, and I will know."
"I only know what the men think, and of course that may mean nothing."
"What do they think?"
"Now, look ye here, Master Fred," cried Samson, appealingly, "what's the
good of your bullying me into saying things which will only make you
cross with me, and call me a thundering idiot, or some other pretty
thing like that?"
"But anything's better than suspense, and I want to know the worst."
"Well, then, you can't," said Samson, gruffly. "There aren't no worse,
because it's all guessing."
"Well, then, what do they guess?"
"Now, look ye here, Master Fred--is it fair to make me tell you, and put
you in a passion; and you a-standing there with a sword by your side,
and another in your hand?"
"Speak, sir--speak!"
"Very well, sir; here goes. And if you fly in a passion, and do
anything rash to me, it will only be another triumph for my brother
Nat."
"Will you speak, sir?"
"Yes, I'm going to, sir; but one must make a beginning. Well, then,
Master Fred, it's only hearsay, and you know what hearsay is. Some one
heard one of the prisoners say that he saw Sir Godfrey go down wounded,
and young Master Scarlett jump across him, fighting like a madman; and
then people were driven all sorts of ways, but not before there was a
regular burst of fire sweeping along; and they think that Sir Godfrey
and poor Master Scarlett was overtaken by the flames. Master Fred!
Master Fred! don't take on like that. It's only what they say, you
know, dear lad, and it may be all wrong."
The rough fellow laid his hand upon his master's arm, as Fred turned
away.
"But it's what I fear--it's what I fear," he groaned. "And my father
thinks the same; I know he does. Oh, Samson, how horrible! how
horrible! If I only knew who fired the place!"
"Oh, I know that, sir," said Samson. "One of the prisoners boasted
about it--not one of the gentleman Cavaliers, but one of the rough
fellows like me. He says he set the place a-fire in two places, when he
saw the game was up; and he said that it was so as we shouldn't have
comfortable quarters--a mean hound!"
"Poor Scar! poor old Scar!" groaned Fred, walking slowly away, to try
and get somewhere alone with his sorrow, as he thought of his brave,
manly young friend.
He walked on till he was right away down by one of the clumps of trees
at the west end of the lake; and as he groaned again he started, for he
thought he was alone, but Samson had followed him softly.
"Don't 'ee take on, Master Fred, lad. Be a man. I feel as if I should
like to sit down and blubber like a big calf taken away from its mother,
but it won't do, lad, it won't do; we're soldiers now. But if I could
have my way, I'd just get them all together as started this here war,
and make 'em fight it out themselves till there wasn't one left, and
then I'd enjoy myself."
"Don't talk of enjoyment. Samson, my lad."
"But I must, for I just would. I'd go and get the sharpest spade I
could find, and take off my jerkin, and bury what was left of 'em, and
that would be the finest thing that could happen for old England."
"Nonsense, man! You don't understand these things," said Fred, sadly.
"And I don't want to, sir. What I understand is that instead of
fighting the French, or the Spaniards, or any other barbarous enemies,
we're all fighting against one another like savages; and there's the
beautiful old Hall burning down to the ground like a beacon fire on a
hill, and who knows but what it may be our turn next?"
"What, at the Manor, Samson?"
"Yes, sir. Why not?"
"Heaven forbid, man! Heaven forbid!"
"And I say `Amen,' sir. But come back to camp, and let's get you a bit
of something to eat; and, I say, sir, you did give my hand a deep cut.
Think that new sword you've got's as sharp as the one I whetted for
you?"
"I don't know, Samson," said Fred, drearily. "I hate the very name of
sword."
"And so do I, sir, proud as I was the first day I buckled mine on. I
aren't much of a smith, but I can blow the bellows like hooray, and when
the time comes, as it says in the Bible, I'll make the fire roar while
some one hammers all the swords and spears into plough-shares and
pruning-hooks, and cuts all the gun-barrels up into pipes. That's
right, sir; come along."
Fred said no more, but, with their shadows darkly shown upon the
trampled grass, the pair walked back to camp.