Crown and Sceptre Part 39

"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 s.n.a.t.c.h 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 pa.s.sionately, till, with a last hasty kiss to his sister, a final embrace to his mother, Scarlett set spurs to his st.u.r.dy 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 G.o.dfrey 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 G.o.dfrey 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 hors.e.m.e.n 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 G.o.dfrey's charger, threw up his n.o.ble 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 G.o.dfrey, 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 G.o.dfrey'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 G.o.dfrey 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 G.o.dfrey?" 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 G.o.dfrey 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 G.o.dfrey. 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 G.o.dfrey, too much commanding of slaves to your wishes has rendered you absurd of speech."

"Do you hear me, sir?" cried Sir G.o.dfrey. "I order you to follow me."

Colonel Forrester's hand went again to his sword, but he s.n.a.t.c.hed it back.

"I cannot answer your intemperate words, Sir G.o.dfrey," 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 G.o.dfrey 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 G.o.dfrey then, and he rode on to the east, followed at a short distance by Nat and his son.