"Now, Samson," whispered Fred, "we must trust to our horses standing
fast."
"You let their halters lie on the ground, sir, and they'll not move,"
was the reply. "Wait a minute, till I've unrolled the rope from my
waist, and then I'm ready."
"What can I do?" said Scarlett, in a low anxious voice.
"Nothing, sir. Now, Master Fred, let's get them two down first off the
horses, and they can lie on the grass till we're ready for them. Then,
if you think as I do, me being strongest, you'll go down first, while I
hold the rope."
"Can you?"
"Can I?" exclaimed Samson, in a tone full of contempt. "Then when
you're down, I'll lower down the stuff first, and you take it and cast
the rope loose each time; and next, I'll let Sir Godfrey down and Master
Scar, and then--"
He stopped short.
"Your brother," said Fred, sharply. "We cannot do better."
Everything was done according to Samson's plans, beginning with the
helping down of the two wounded riders, after which Fred took the end of
the rope, and was lowered into what, in spite of his determination,
seemed to be an awful chasm.
But he had no time to think, for directly he touched the shaley floor,
the rope was drawn up, and almost directly after, he was hastily taking
from the rope the burdens which it bore, while, to his surprise,
Scarlett came next.
"You?" said Fred in his wonder.
"Yes; I thought I could help most here; and it seemed so terrible a
place for you to be alone."
"Scar!" whispered Fred, quickly, as a thought struck him, due to
Samson's general forethought, "open those bundles, and see if there is
anything to get a light."
Sir Godfrey was lowered down, and when Fred was helping Nat to sink
gently on the flooring of the cave, the sharp clicking of flint and
steel fell upon his ears, and soon after the gloomy place was illumined
by a candle stuck in a niche of the rock.
"I wouldn't be longer than 'bout an hour, Master Fred, sir," came down
the opening. "We may as well get back safe if we can."
Fred answered, and then set to work, to find that the forethought of
those at the Manor had provided ample store for the prisoners; and if
ever wine was welcome to man, it was to the sufferers lying exhausted
there upon the shaley bed of the cave.
"As soon as I am up," said Fred at last, "I shall throw down the rope,
and with the light you can explore the lower part of the cave, and see
what means there are of getting to the mouth; for sooner or later a boat
and men shall come to take you both where you will. Now, Scar Markham,
God bless you, and good-bye!"
Fred had previously bidden Sir Godfrey farewell. Nat had sunk into the
sleep of exhaustion long before, and now he stood grasping Scarlett's
hands in his.
"Some day," said the latter, sadly, "this war must end, and then we may
meet again."
"And not till then, Scar, for I can--I must do no more. Good-bye."
He snatched his hands from the grasp that held them, caught hold of the
rope, and calling up to Samson, in another minute he was half-way up,
but only to call down to Scarlett--
"Have no fear about supplies; there are those not far away who will see
that you have all you want."
There was no reply, for in his weakness and misery Scarlett Markham had
thrown himself upon his face, and lay for hours almost without moving,
and till long after the light had burned out, and the faint bluish dawn
rose from the chasm below.
Meanwhile Fred had reached the top, lowered down the rope till its
weight made it glide swiftly from his hands, and then mounted his horse
to ride back, through the darkness, trusting to chance to reach the camp
unchallenged.
This time they were not so successful, for all at once a sharp voice
bade them halt and give the word.
"Forward's the word, Master Fred," whispered Samson, "full speed, knee
to knee."
Their horses answered to the touches of their heels, and bounded through
the darkness, the man who challenged trying to fire in their direction;
but the match merely made the priming flash, and before he could
communicate with his fellows, Fred and Samson were far over the moor
toward the park, dashing by an outpost, whose men fired and raised the
alarm. It was too late to stop the adventurous pair, who were close up
to the tents and off the horses, which they left to their fate, while
the men whom they encountered now treated them as others who had been
alarmed by the firing on the moor. Drums were beating, trumpets
sounding, and men mustered quickly, waiting a night attack, till the
sentinels were questioned and told their tale. An hour more, and it was
broad daylight, and the men dismissed, after what was treated as a false
alarm.
"And when I went to the tethering stakes, Master, Fred, sir," whispered
Samson, "there were our horses standing alongside o' the others, with
their halters hanging down just as if they'd never left their places."
"But weren't you missed? You were a prisoner."
"No, sir, s'pose not. I should ha' thought they'd ha' looked at me now
and then; but I'd done nothing very wrong, and when a man did tramp into
the tent, he found me lying down, and didn't see the slit through which
I crept out and in."
"Then you are released, Samson?"
"Yes, sir; your father ordered me to be let out, and, oh, how sleepy I
do feel! I say, though, sir, if the colonel know'd all we done last
night, what would he say?"
"Don't talk about it, my good fellow. I hope he would be glad at heart;
but as a soldier--Samson, we must keep our secret, perhaps for years."
Samson gave his mouth a slap with his horny palm, and walked away.