Crown and Sceptre Part 35

"Well, sir, it's something to do with the king and the Parliament. They were talking about it at the Red Hind."

"King and the Parliament?"

"Yes, Master Fred; and there were some there as said we should most likely have to fight for our rights."

"But we haven't got any rights to fight for."

"Oh yes, we have, Master Fred," said Samson, importantly. "A man there told me all about it."

"What did he say?"

"Well, sir, I don't quite understand, but they're trying to take our rights away."

"Who are?"

"Well, that's what I didn't get quite clear, you see, sir. But it's some'at like this. Every man has--I don't quite remember what it was he said there, but I do recollect he said that if things were not altered, we should have to fight."

Fred looked at him wonderingly.

"I should have got it all quite pat, you see, only just as I was getting into the marrow of it and understanding it all, that captain sent for me, and give me the big letter I've got in here. And now I must hurry on." For the top of the hill was reached, and the pony broke into a sharp trot without urging.

But Fred kept hold of the mane, and ran easily by his side, coming soon after in sight of Colonel Forrester, standing at the garden gate, evidently waiting for his messenger's return.

As soon as he saw them descending the slope, he walked quickly forward to meet them, holding out his hand for the despatch, and looking so anxious and severe that his son forbore to speak.

"Take the cob round to the stables, and treat him well," said the colonel, sharply, as he tore open the missive and began to read.

Fred felt eagerness itself to know its contents, and he was about to stop, examining the missive the while with eager eyes; but, recollecting himself, he went off at a trot after Samson, who had dismounted, and was leading the pony.

"Hope it's good news, Master Fred."

"I dare say it is. I don't know."

"The captain said I was a gardener, wasn't I; and I told him the truth, and said I was."

"Why, of course, stupid."

"Ah, you don't understand, Master Fred. It isn't every day that a gardener has to carry despatches. And then he said, as he give me the answer, 'Well, you say you are a gardener, don't let the gra.s.s grow under your feet.' I didn't, Master Fred. Ask Dodder."

"No need to ask him, poor old fellow," said Fred, patting his favourite's neck.

"Fred!" came from the road.

"Yes, father," cried the boy, and he ran back.

"I thought you were by me, my boy," said the colonel, gravely, as he laid one hand upon his son's shoulder, and held the despatch in the other, gazing thoughtfully before him toward the old house they were approaching.

"I hope you have not had bad news, father," hazarded Fred.

"No, on the whole, good. It must come--it must come."

Fred looked at him inquiringly.

"What are you, Fred--sixteen, isn't it?"

"Yes, father."

"Ah, if you had been six and twenty, how useful to me you could have been!"

Fred flushed.

"I could be useful to you now, father, if you would let me be," he said in an injured tone. "I could have ridden over to Barnstaple with your letter quicker than Samson did, and I shouldn't have tired Dodder so much."

"Yes, I thought of that, Fred, but you are only a boy, and you were at play."

There was a silence for a few moments, and then Fred spoke.

"Is it wrong for a boy to play, father?"

"Heaven forbid. No; of course not. Play goes with youth, and it gives boys energy, strength, and decision. Yes, Fred, play while you can.

Manfully and well. But play."

Fred looked up at his father in a puzzled way, as he stopped short, and began beating his side with the despatch he had received. There was a dreamy look in his eyes, which were fixed on vacancy, as he muttered--

"Yes; I must be right. I have hesitated long, but it is a duty. But what does it mean--friends.h.i.+ps broken; the land in chaos; brother against brother; perhaps father against son. No, no," he added, with a shudder, as he turned sharply on his boy. "Fred, my lad," he tried, "if trouble comes upon our land, and I have to take side with those who fight--"

He stopped short.

"Who fight, father? You are not going to fight."

"I don't know yet, my boy; but if I do, it will be for those I believe to be in the right. What I believe to be right, you, too, must believe in, and follow."

"Of course, father," said the boy, quietly.

"No matter what is said against me, or how you may be influenced. I know about these matters better than you do, and I shall ask you to trust to me."

Fred smiled, as if his father's words amused him, for it seemed absurd that he should have any opinion against his own father.

"Why, of course, I shall do as you tell me," he said, taking hold of his father's arm, and they walked together into the house, where Mistress Forrester, looking pale and large-eyed, was awaiting her husband's return.

She did not speak, but looked up in his eyes with so eager and inquiring an air that he bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Yes," he said.

"Oh, husband!"

"It cannot be avoided. My duty is with the people. That duty I must do."