Crown and Sceptre Part 83

"And we can save nothing, Hedley," said the colonel, sadly.

"Yes, sir, our lives. We can do no more. Pretty well that we got you out, and that the prisoners left the place."

Fred had risen, and was standing by the general's side, looking at him wildly.

"Well?" said the latter. "What are you thinking?"

"The wounded, sir--the dead?" said Fred, huskily.

"There were no dead. The wounded were all brought out, I feel sure. My boy, we have done our best. Forrester, are you well enough to move?"

"Yes; better now."

"You see the place is doomed. It is a sad affair; but we are guiltless.

I will place the prisoners in your hands. See that they are courteously treated, and send them off under the escort of a troop to Barnstaple--at once. You can go and help."

This last was to Fred, who accepted the duty eagerly, and the next minute he was making his way with his father in the direction of the knot of prisoners, whose armour shone in the light of the glowing pile.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

A FRUITLESS SEARCH.

As Colonel Forrester and his son approached the prisoners, who were lying about on the gra.s.s in a variety of easy, careless att.i.tudes, gazing at the fire, which had now a.s.sumed terrible proportions, Fred became aware of the fact that in place of being despondent, the Cavaliers were chatting away in the most indifferent manner.

But their conversation ceased, for from behind came a loud crashing noise, caused by some floor falling, and a buzz of wonder and admiration arose as the glowing windows suddenly belched forth flame, spark, and glowing flakes of fire, in so many eddying, whirling columns, which rose up and up to mingle and gild the lower surface of the cloud of smoke which glowed with orange and purple and red, while sparks flashed and glittered as they darted here and there like the flakes of a snowstorm suddenly changed to gold.

The scene was glorious now, for after a moment's pause, the burning wood which had fallen formed fresh fuel to the mighty furnace within the thick walls, and the flames rushed up with renewed violence, illumining the scene far and near. Great sombre trees grew visible, brightened by the wondrous glow; the lawn seemed to be cut up into paths of light, and further away, ruddy reflections flashed from the lake; while the n.o.ble old Hall seemed to stand out against a dark background, with every angle, battlement, and vane clearly cut, till the smallest carving was plainly defined.

But for the horror of the scene, Fred could have stood and gazed with delight at the wondrous series of changes that were taking place; the clouds of smoke, which seemed to form vast spirals, ever turning, and rolling over, now dull red, now bursting into light, as if from fires therein; the eddying scintillations which crackled and exploded, and disappeared; the ruddy tongues of flame which darted in and out as if the long low windows were monstrous dragons' mouths, from which the darting forks came to play over golden stony lips, and lick the mullions and b.u.t.tresses around. Then came a fresh explosion, as pent-up gases, generated by heat, burst forth to augment the fire with hiss, crackle, and flutter, as it seemed to gain its climax, and then sank down with a low dull roar.

From time to time there was a sharp tinkling, as the higher windows cracked, broke, and fell upon the stones. Then came pouring down a spouting torrent of silver fire, shooting right out of a stone gargoyle-mouth as the molten lead from one part of the roof, dammed up by other lead which had not melted, at last forced its way spattering on to the paved terrace below.

But after these brilliant bursts, which had enchained Fred's attention for a time, he turned once more toward the group of prisoners, whose loud, careless talking had begun again, and he pa.s.sed between two of the guard stationed round them in a circle, while lying outside, in a confused heap, just as they had been thrown, were the weapons of which the Cavaliers had been deprived.

As Fred drew nearer, he could see that the careless att.i.tudes of some of the party were a.s.sumed, for in spite of the glow shed by the fire, it was plain enough that the cheeks of several were of a deathly pallor, and that they were suffering intense pain. One had a scarf tied tightly round his arm; another had a broad bandage about his brow; hardly one seemed to have escaped some injury in the desperate sally and defence.

But the aim of all was to carry their defeat with an air of the most careless indifference--as if wounds were nothing to them, and they held their Puritan captors in the most profound contempt.

"Hallo!" shouted a voice Fred had before heard, "here's my fire-eating young amba.s.sador. Why, hang it all, sirrah! How is it you were not to the front before? I'd rather have given up my sword to you than have had it knocked out of my hand by the ugliest crop-eared knave I ever met."

Fred, the moment before, was eagerly scanning the group in search of Sir G.o.dfrey and his old companion; but he had searched in vain, and he was anxiously debating within himself as to whether that meant bad news or good. Had they escaped? and were they now safe, or--?

He was checked by the greeting of the tall, fair Cavalier, and advanced to him at once, the high-spirited officer continuing his bantering speech the while.

"Why, you heinous young rebel," he cried, "have you come to trample on your poor prisoners now you have taken them; or are we to be shot, or hung, or what?"

"Don't talk to me like that, sir," said Fred, eagerly, as he paused by where the Cavalier lay; and now he could see that his jerkin was darkened in one spot with blood.

"How do you want me to talk, then, eh?"

"Sir G.o.dfrey?--Scarlett Markham? Where are they?"

"Escaped," said a gentleman lying by, with careless levity. "Run for it--broken through your lines, and got clean away."

"Not they," said the tall Cavalier, warmly. "Sir G.o.dfrey Markham was not the man to leave his friends in the lurch; and as for my young friend Scarlett, he would have stood by us to the end."

"But they are not here?" said Fred, anxiously.

"Here, sir? No. They must be with your other prisoners."

"Other prisoners?" faltered Fred, turning pale, as a horrible thought a.s.sailed him, and he darted a frightened glance at the burning Hall; "there are no other prisoners but these."

"What!" cried the Cavalier, starting to his feet, and then turning faint, so that he would have fallen, but for Fred's arm. "Thank you, my lad," he said frankly; "a little weak, I suppose. Yes; I will lie down."

Fred helped him into a reclining position again upon the turf.

"Tell me all you know about them, sir," said Fred, going down on one knee to help the wounded officer. "Scarlett and I used to be great friends. Did they escape right away?"

The Cavalier seemed at first to be about to respond in his old careless, bantering, half-mocking way, but as he saw the eagerness of manner, and the anxiety in the lad's eyes, his manner changed.

This was no ruse, he saw; no cunning trick to find out which way the Markhams had gone, but a true honest feeling for one who had been a friend, but was now transformed by political troubles into an enemy.

"Shake hands," he said warmly. "I like you, boy. I'll tell you all I know."

Fred eagerly took the prisoner's hand, as the others looked on curiously, their a.s.sumption of carelessness gone, and a dull look of despair making its appearance in their eyes and at the angles of their mouths. And as Fred took that hand, it was cold and damp, and the grip was feeble, as its owner said slowly--

"Sir G.o.dfrey Markham and I divided our little force, after drawing lots for choice; I won the choice, and selected the task of making the sally.

It would have been too irksome to me to stay behind a barrier and wait to be attacked. I suppose you know--your people were too strong for us, and we were beaten back, followed by your men, till we were all together struggling in the dining-room, from there into the hall, and then on the great staircase. I saw Sir G.o.dfrey and young Scarlett several times during the struggle; then we were all pell-mell, here, there, and everywhere, and I recollect no more."

"But where did you see them last?"

"I cannot say--in the drawing-room, I think."

"Yes. What were they doing?"

"What do you think they were likely to be doing, boy? Fighting bravely for their king."

There was a pause.

"You do not think that--"

Fred did not finish his sentence. "That they set fire to the Hall? No; Sir G.o.dfrey was too proud of his old home to destroy it."

"I did not mean that," said Fred, hoa.r.s.ely; "I meant--"

"Wounded--killed?" Fred bowed his head. He could not speak, for there was a horrible idea tugging at his brain, one which he could not shake off.

"Wounded? Perhaps. Killed? Heaven forbid! No; I hope and believe that they fought to the last, and then escaped, or else, far more likely, they are--"

He stopped short, for the idea that troubled Fred had now been communicated to him, and he drew in his breath with a look of horror.