Crown and Sceptre Part 42

"Yes, my lad, and I'm very, very glad you have escaped so well."

"Oh, I've 'scaped well enough, Master Fred; deal better than I deserved.

We're a wicked, bad, good-for-nothing family. Look at our Nat, fighting against his own brother."

"It is very sad, Samson," said Fred; "but, remember, you are fighting against him."

"That I arn't, sir. It's him fighting against me, and I only wish I may run against him some day. I'd make him so sore that he'll lie down and howl for his mother, poor soul, and she breaking her heart about him turning out so badly; and, I say, Master Fred, if I don't have something to eat, I shall be only fit to bury to-morrow."

"Come with me, Samson; I'm going up to my father's quarters. I'll see that you have plenty to eat, if there is anything."

"Who'd be without a good master?" muttered Samson; and then aloud, "Here he comes."

For Colonel Forrester came cantering up.

"Alive and well, Samson? Good lad! We couldn't spare you. Fred, my boy, news has come in that a little party of the enemy has taken shelter in the woodland yonder over the hill. Take a dozen men, surround them, and bring them in. Don't let one of them escape. Turned back by one of the regiments crossing their path as they were in retreat. Now, then, to horse and away!"

Burning with excitement, Fred forgot all his weariness, buckled his horse's bit, mounted, and turned to select his men, when he found Samson already mounted, and at his elbow.

"Here, what do you want, sir?" he cried.

"What do I want, Master Fred? Why, to go with you."

"Nonsense! You are f.a.gged out. Go and rest, and your horse too."

"Now, I do call that likely, Master Fred. Let you go without me. I should just think not."

"But this is nonsense, Samson. I want fresh men."

"Just what I thought, sir. Nonsense for you to go without me, and you don't want no fresh men. You want me, and I'm coming--there!"

Fred had neither time nor inclination to combat his follower's desire; in fact, he was rather glad to have the st.u.r.dy, west-country man at his elbow, so he rode up to the main portion of the regiment, selected eleven out of a hundred who wanted to go with the young officer, and rode off at a moderate trot across country, forded the stream, and then, bearing away from the woodland, made as if to leave it on his right, so as not to excite suspicion in case they were seen. But just as he was well opposite, he gave an order, the men divided in two parties, and set off at a gallop to surround the trees, the mounted men halting at about a hundred yards apart, and waiting for the signal to advance.

The manoeuvre was soon executed, and the circle moved steadily toward the centre of the park-like patch of ground, so open that as the ring grew smaller there was not the slightest prospect of any of the enemy breaking through unseen.

Fred, in his anxiety to carry out his father's commands successfully, had remained at the foot of the wooded slope, Samson being on his right and another trustworthy fellow on his left, for he felt sure that those of whom they were in search would break out in his direction. In fact, he sat there waiting for his men to drive the intended prisoners down for him to take.

The task was not long, for the tramping of horses was heard, and the rustling and crackling of the undergrowth; but the enemy did not break cover.

At last, though, there was a rush and the clash of steel, and, with his heart throbbing, the lad signed to his nearest men to close up, and they advanced together, then set spur to their horses, and made a dash for a clump of bushes, where three hors.e.m.e.n were striving to get out through the tangle; and as they reached them Fred uttered an exclamation full of anger.

"Look at that!" cried Samson. "Why, they're our own men."

Fred uttered an impatient cry.

"Couldn't you see them?" he said to the first man who struggled out of the bushes.

"No, sir; n.o.body there."

"Then you must have missed them, and they are there now."

"We searched the place well," said another man; and one by one, as the party closed up, they told the same tale.

"Father was deceived," thought Fred; and the more readily, that it was not the first example by many of pieces of false news brought in by spies.

"Here!" he cried aloud, "we'll all ride through again. Ah! look yonder.

Forward! Gallop!" he shouted; and, setting spurs to his horse, he dashed off, followed by his men, for there, a quarter of a mile to the left, was a little party of six hors.e.m.e.n stealing along a narrow coombe, after evading their pursuers in some way.

They were well in view as Fred emerged from the wooded land, and were evidently spurring hard to escape, and for the next quarter of an hour the chances seemed even, for the distance was maintained, and each party kept well together; but after that the pace began to tell, and horse and man tailed off till both parties seemed to be straggling over the ground, the better-mounted to the front, the worse hanging behind.

It was soon evident that the pursuers' horses were far fresher than those of the Royalists; and after shouting to his men to come on, Fred raced forward, with Samson close behind, and after a headlong gallop of about ten minutes, the young leader had overtaken the hindmost horseman, who was standing in his stirrups, his morion close down over his eyes, his back up, and apparently blind to everything that was before him as well as behind.

"Have him, Samson, lad," cried Fred, as he spurred on past this fugitive to try and overtake the leader, a young-looking man in showy cavalier hat and feathers, who kept on turning in his saddle and encouraging his men to fresh exertions.

The next minute, as they thundered along, Samson rode straight at the man with the morion over his eyes, but before he could reach him the fugitive's horse made a poor attempt to clear a bush in his way, stumbled, fell headlong, and shot his rider half a dozen yards in front.

"Prisoners; and don't hurt them," shouted Fred, waving his sword, and his men gave an answering yell. So did the pursued, for no sooner did the young leader discover that one of his men was down than he checked his horse, held up his sword for the others to rally round him, and turned at once on the party headed by Fred.

It was a gallant attempt, but useless. Their horses were spent, and as they were checked before they could make any effective stand, Fred's party literally sprung at them. There was a sharp shock; the exchange of a few blows, and it was all over, the little party being literally ridden down, their leader going over, horse and all, at Fred's charge.

The young Cavalier struggled free from his fallen horse, and tried to drag a pistol from the holster at his saddle-bow, for his sword had flown a dozen yards away among the bushes; but Fred had him by the neck directly, his hand well inside the steel gorget he wore, and in one breath he shouted, as he held his sword at his breast, "Surrender!" and then, "Scar Markham! You!"

"Yes. Give up, my lads," cried the prisoner. "We've done all we could.

Let the crop-ears have a few prisoners for once in a way."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

TEASING A PRISONER.

Fred Forrester was too much astonished at the result of his pursuit to make any sharp retort, but sat holding his prisoner by the gorget, staring wildly at his old playmate, who seemed wonderfully changed since their last meeting, and who had looked, in spite of dust and sweat, tall and handsome in his gay frippery, scarf, scarlet feather, and long curling hair.

"Well, rebel," cried the prisoner; and Fred started from his reverie.

"Am I the first you ever had the luck to take that you stare in that way? Don't choke me."

Fred's tanned cheeks grew crimson, and his brow was knit as he turned away his face to look after his men, who in the meantime had taken the whole of the little party, dismounted those who needed it, bound their arms behind their back, and collected the horses.

"Look ye here, sir," cried Samson, dragging forward the man in the morion, who came behind limping, "I've got him at last. This is my wretch of a brother, who has taken up arms against me."

"Against you--you ill-looking dog!" cried Scarlett, fiercely. "How dare you! Crop-eared rebel!"

"That will do, sir," said Fred, sternly; for, after being a little overawed by the gallant aspect of his prisoner, he was recovering himself, and recollecting his position. "Will you give your promise not to escape, or must I have you bound?"

"Promise to a set of knaves like you?" cried the youth, fiercely. "No.

Do what you will; only, mind this--our time will come."

"Yes; and when it does," cried Nat, shaking his head to get rid of the iron cap which was over his eyes, for his hands were bound, "we'll show them what it is to be rebels, eh, Master Scarlett--captain, I mean?"

"Silence, sir!" cried Fred, angrily; and, after giving the men orders, the little party returned with their prisoners in their midst, Scarlett behind, gazing haughtily before him, and paying no heed to a few words addressed to him at first by his captor, who reined back at the slight, and followed afterwards at the rear of his little troop, angry and indignant at Scarlett's contemptuous manner, and at the same time sorry and glad, the latter feeling perhaps predominating, for he had successfully carried out his father's commands.

"I wish it had been some one else," he was thinking, as the little party rode on, the prisoners mounted on their horses, but looking in sorry plight with their hands bound behind. "What will my father say when he sees who it is?"