Crown and Sceptre Part 51

"Samson!"

"Yes, sir."

There was a pause, and Fred's henchman rose painfully on one arm to try and make out the reason of the silence, but he could only see that the young officer was staring at the window.

"Poor boy!" said Samson to himself. "Seems hard for him to be made into a soldier at his time o' life. Ought to be at school instead of wearing a sword."

"Yes, sir," he said aloud.

"Yes?"

"You called me, sir."

"Did I?" said Fred, vacantly.

"Yes, sir; you said 'Samson.'"

"Oh yes, I remember. Did you see much of the fight, Samson?"

"As much as any one could for the dark."

"We were attacked front and rear, weren't we?"

"That's it, sir. Trapped."

"It was all my fault, I suppose," said Fred, with a sigh.

"Fault, sir; not it. n.o.body's fault. People can't do impossibilities.

Why, there was sixty-five of 'em in the troop, and of course they regularly rode us down!"

"But you did see something of the fighting?"

"To be sure I did, sir."

"Did--did I disgrace myself, Samson?"

"Did you what yourself, sir? Come, I like that! If digging your spurs into your horse, and shouting to us to come on, and then going to work with your sword as if it was a scythe, and the pleasaunce hadn't been cut for a month in June's disgracing yourself, why, I suppose you did!"

"Then I did fight?"

"Fight! I should think you aid."

"Like a man, Samson--like an officer should?"

"Why, of course you did, sir!"

"As my father would have liked to see me fight, if he had been there?"

"Well, sir, that question's a puzzler. You see, fathers is fathers, and, as far as ever I've been able to find out, they don't like their boys to fight. Why, my father was always giving me and Nat the strap for fighting, because we was always at it--strap as he wore round his waist, when he wasn't banging our heads together. You see, Nat was always at me, and knocking me about. We never did agree; but our old man wouldn't let us fight, and I don't believe your father would have liked to see you trying to cut people's heads off with that sword of yours."

"Well, then," said Fred, smiling faintly, "would my colonel have been satisfied with what I did to save the prisoners and my men?"

"Wouldn't be much of a colonel if he wasn't. There, dear lad, don't you fret yourself about that. I've heered the men here say you did wonders for such a boy, and a big sergeant who fetched you off your horse was up here yesterday--"

"Yesterday?" interrupted Fred. "Why, we were travelling yesterday!"

"That we were not, my lad, for we've been lying here two days."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Fred.

"While you've been off your head."

"Oh, Samson!"

"Well, sir, that's better than your head being off you."

"Then you are sure I did my duty?"

"Duty, sir? Yes; that's what I was going to tell you. The big six-foot sergeant who fetched you off your horse with a great cut of his heavy sword was up here yesterday to see you; and I heered him say to himself, 'Poor boy! I feel ashamed of myself for cutting him down. What would his poor mother say to me if she knew?'"

"I can lie patiently now till I get well," said Fred, after a pause. "I was frightened by my thoughts, Samson."

"Yes; them's what frightens most of us, sir."

"I mean by the thought that I had not done my duty by my charge."

"But you did, sir; and it's the fortune o' war. They was prisoners the other day; now we're prisoners this day."

"And Master Scarlett Markham, and your brother, and the other men?"

"All here, sir. There's about a thousand of the enemy about, waiting, I suppose, to drop upon our side, if our side doesn't drop upon them.

Fortune o' wars sir--fortune o' war."

Samson waited for Fred to speak again; but as he remained silent, the ex-gardener went on--

"I've been expecting to hear some news of my beautiful brother, but I haven't heered a word, only that he's about somewhere. Oh, I am proud of him, Master Fred! I shouldn't wonder if we was to be sent off somewhere--Exeter or Bristol, maybe, and Master Scarlett and my brother had charge of us. Be rum, wouldn't it?"

Fred sighed as he recalled the past.

"Couldn't cut our hair short, sir, could they?"

Fred remained silent, and his follower went on.

"Nat said first chance he had, he'd crop my ears. That's like him all over. But he dursn't, sir. Not he. I should just like to catch him at it. Pst! some one coming."

Fred had already heard steps below, and then the creaking of a rickety ladder, as if some one were ascending.

Directly after a door on his left was thrown open, a flood of sunshine burst into the cobweb-hung loft, and an officer and a private of cavalry came rustling through the straw till they were within the scope of the wounded lad's gaze, and a chill of misery ran through him like a shudder as he saw Scarlett Markham, followed by Samson's brother Nat.