Crown and Sceptre Part 91

"Shall I bait the trap, then, sir?" said Samson.

"Yes, of course."

"Ah," said Samson, placing the cake in a fork of one of the dead branches right in the hole, "you often laugh at me, sir, for bringing a bit o' food with me, but now you see the good of it. There!"

He drew back to look admiringly at his work.

"That'll catch him, sir," he said.

"Yes, they'll see that," cried Fred, eagerly. "Now let's get back to the lake, and fish for an hour."

"But we aren't got no lines, sir."

"Never mind; we must pretend, in case we are watched. Come along quickly."

Fred spoke in a low excited whisper, just as if he had helped in the setting of a gin for some wild creature; and as he hurried Samson back toward the lake he turned once, full of exultation, and shook his follower warmly by the hand.

"What's that there for?" said Samson, feigning ignorance, but with his eyes sparkling and his face bright with satisfaction.

"Because I feel so happy," cried Fred. "It's a long time since I have felt so satisfied as I do now."

"Ah, I gets puzzleder and puzzleder," said Samson, grimly, "more than ever I was. I never knowd why we all began fighting, and you don't make it a bit clearer, Master Fred. I believe you're a reg'lar sham, sir, pretendin' that Master Scar's your enemy, and all the time you seem as if you'd go through fire and water to help him. Why, we shall be having your father and Sir G.o.dfrey shaking hands and dining together just as they did in the old times."

"And you and Nat quarrelling good-temperedly again as to which is the best cider, that at the Manor or theirs at the Hall."

"No, Master Fred; that's going a little too far, sir. Eh? What say?"

"Look here; I'll show you where the proper entrance to the pa.s.sage is.

That hole, as I told you, was only broken through."

Fred turned off a little, and made his way down to the edge of the lake by the rocky bank where the birches drooped down till their delicate leaves nearly dipped in the water; and as they hung over, after a careful look round, Fred pointed out the opening.

"What! that little bit of a hole, sir?"

"That's where Scarlett kicked out a stone or two. The whole of the rest of the arch is built up."

"Well, sir, I s'pose it's true, as you tell me it is," said Samson, thoughtfully; "but if anybody had told me all this without showing me the place, I should have said, 'Thank ye; now see if you can tell a bigger story.'"

"You know now it's true," said Fred, thoughtfully. "And look here," he continued, after he had related in full how he and Scarlett discovered the place, "let's go up to the Hall, and see if there is any sign of the opening there. Think the ruins will be cool?"

"No, sir, nor yet for another week. Why, some of the men was roasting meat in the hot embers, and cooking bread there this morning."

"Never mind. I had not the heart to go there when I woke. I am eager to see everything now, and I tremble for fear that the way may have been laid open. Come along."

Samson followed, nothing loth, the rods and basket being forgotten, and they made their way round by the edge of the lake on the side nearest to the Hall, Fred having hard work to keep from gazing back at the patch of the old forest which concealed the pa.s.sage where he felt certain now his friends--he mentally corrected himself--his enemies, must lie.

A sad feeling came over the lad, though, once more, as he led the way through the hazel wood, where Sir G.o.dfrey had had endless paths cut, every one of which was carpeted with moss; for there were the marks of hoofs, hazel stubs had been wantonly cut down, and the nearer they drew to the ruined Hall, the more frequent were the traces of destruction, while, when at last they came from the shrubbery and stood in full view of the place, the picture of desolation was so painful that Fred stood still, and his eyes felt dim.

"Poor Lady Markham! poor little Lil!" he said in a low voice. "What will they say?"

"Yes, and your mother, Master Fred, sir; she'll be terribly cut up too."

"Well, Fred, my lad," said a grave voice, "have you, too, come to see?"

Fred started round, to find that his father was leaning against one of the fine old beeches with his arms folded, gazing at the still smoking ruins.

He did not wait to be answered, but sighed deeply, and walked slowly away.

"Don't he know?" whispered Samson.

Fred shook his head, and stood gazing after his father till his follower touched his sleeve.

"Aren't you going to tell him, Master Fred?"

"I was wondering whether I ought."

"So was I, sir; and you oughtn't."

"You think that?"

"Yes, sir. If you tell him, he'll feel it's his duty to send in search of them, and make 'em prisoners."

"Yes," said Fred, thoughtfully.

"And that's just what we want done, of course, Master Fred; only they ought to be our prisoners, and we want to do just what we like about 'em, not be enterfered with--eh?"

"Don't talk to me, please," said Fred, as he watched his father go where his horse was being held, and saw him mount and ride thoughtfully away.

"Now, Samson, quick! and don't point or seem to be taking any particular notice."

"I understand, sir."

"Let us look as if we were walking round just out of curiosity, and do nothing to excite the attention of any sentinel who may have us under his eye."

Fred led the way, and Samson followed, as he walked completely round the ruins of the old building, apparently indifferent, but taking in everything with the most intense eagerness. But, look as he would, he could see no trace of any opening in the skeleton of the fine old Hall.

Every vestige of roof had gone, and in its fall parti-walls had been toppled over, and where they still stood it was in such a chaos of ruins that the eye soon grew confused.

As to finding the entrance to the pa.s.sage, that was impossible. It was easy enough to trace the entrance hall, but the carven beams of the roof had entirely gone, and there was not the slightest trace visible of the grand staircase or the corridor which ran to right and left.

Smouldering ashes, calcined stone, and here and there the projecting charred stump of some beam; but no sign of a pa.s.sage running between walls, and at last Samson, who had edged up closely, whispered--

"Are you sure you are right, sir? I can't see aught."

"I am certain," was the reply. "But let us go now. No one is likely to find the entrance here."

"And no one is likely to get out of it here," said Samson to himself, as they walked slowly away, to be hailed directly after by one of the officers.

"I thought you two had gone fishing?"