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"But home--me--Fred?"
"You will be safe here," he said. "It is not likely that the tide of trouble will flow this way."
"But Fred," she whispered.
"Fred. Ah, yes, Fred," said the colonel, thoughtfully.
"Oh no, no, no," cried Mistress Forrester, in agony, as she saw her husband's hesitating way, and suspected the truth. "No, no, husband, he is too young."
"He will grow older," said the colonel, with quiet firmness. "Wife, when the country calls for the help of her son, he must give it freely.
If your boy is needed in his country's service, he will have to go."
Fred heard these words, and went slowly and thoughtfully away-- thoughtfully, for his head was in a whirl--the coming of his father's military friend--his father's old life as a soldier--and these hints about civil war.
"I don't think I should mind," he said to himself, "not if Scar went too. He and I could get on so well together. Of course we should be too young for regular soldiers, but we should soon grow older."
Then he began to recall different things of which he had heard and read, about youths going off to the war in olden times to be esquires, and after deeds of valour to become belted knights who had won their spurs.
Fred's was not a romantic nature, for that night, quite late, after he had gone up to bed, he sat at his window looking out at the starlit sky.
And as he gazed all the thoughts of the evening came back to make him burst into a derisive laugh.
"It's all nonsense," he said; "knights and squires never did half the things they say. And if we had a war, and I had to go, I'm afraid it would be all rough and different to life here at home. But if Scar went too, I should not mind. They want all the men at such a time as this.
Samson would have to go, and Nat, and no end of the farm lads about."
Fred rose from his seat, and closed the window softly, for fear that he should be heard, and at last lay down, but not to sleep, for his young brain was excited, and a feeling of awe came over him as he began thinking of her who was sleeping only a few yards away.
"If father goes and takes me with him, and there is a terrible war, what will my mother say?"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
THE BEGINNING OF TROUBLE.
"G.o.dfrey!"
"Hush, my darling; think of the children. Be firm. Be firm."
"But it is too horrible."
"Is this my dear wife speaking?" said Sir G.o.dfrey, gravely, as he took his dame's hand.
"Yes," said Lady Markham, excitedly. "Would you have me sit silent when such a demand is made?"
Sir G.o.dfrey's brow was knit, and his nether lip quivered as he heard his wife's words, while Lil, who seemed alarmed, crept to her brother's side and held his hand.
"The demand is just, wife," said Sir G.o.dfrey, at last. "I am a soldier, sworn to help my king."
"You were a soldier once, love," interposed Lady Markham.
"I am a soldier, wife. Still a soldier, though during these peaceful years I have been allowed to live peacefully here at home. The time has now come when my master needs the help of all his loyal servants. He calls me to his help, and do you think I am going to play the coward and knave, and hide here in idleness while every rogue is striking at the crown? Come: be a woman. Do your duty."
"My duty is to those children, G.o.dfrey," said Lady Markham, piteously.
"And to your husband. You, as a brave, true woman, now that the perilous time has come when ruin and destruction threatens the kingdom, you, I say, should be the first to buckle on your husband's sword."
"Father!" cried Scarlett, "are you going away?"
"Yes, boy; I am summoned to Exeter. From there, perhaps to Bristol."
"And when do you come back?"
Sir G.o.dfrey was silent for a few moments, and then said calmly--
"Heaven knows!"
"G.o.dfrey!" 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed up to his breast and kissed pa.s.sionately; "don't, pray don't go away. You'll break poor mother's heart."
"Hush, child!" said Sir G.o.dfrey, 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 G.o.dfrey, 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 G.o.dfrey, 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."