Samson gave his mouth a slap with his horny palm, and walked away.
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.
GREETINGS AFTER LONG YEARS.
During the month which followed Sir Godfrey's escape, the forces of the Parliamentarians achieved success after success, Colonel Forrester and his son being despatched with a little column to the east two days later.
The dilemma to Fred before starting seemed terrible, but just as he felt that there was nothing left for him to do but confess all he had done to his father, he encountered Samson.
"Why, Master Fred!" he exclaimed, "you look as if you'd got the worries on you."
"Worry? Why, man, we have to march almost directly, and those poor people in the cave are--"
"What poor people? in what cave? Only wish I was one of 'em. Having it luscious, that's what they're a-having, Master Fred, sir. Chicken and eggs, and butter and new bread, and milk and honey, and nothing to do.
Blankets to wrap 'em in, and cider and wine, and ladies to go and talk to 'em."
"Samson, are you sure of this?" cried Fred, joyfully.
"Wish I was as sure as all this human being cock-fighting was nearly over, Master Fred."
"Then you've been over?"
"'Course I have, sir. I aren't like the colonel, about here all these weeks, and never going home nor letting you go. I got leave this time, for I met the general, and told him how near I was to my garden, and how anxious I was about the weeds, and he laughed and give me a pass directly."
"And my mother?"
"Your mother, Master Fred? Why, I couldn't get to know about them in the cave for her asking me questions about the colonel and her boy! She would call you a boy, sir, though you think you're a man, and no more muscle in your arms than a carrot."
"But the people in the cave, Samson?"
"Don't I tell you they're all right, sir--right as right can be; and first chance there's going to be a boat round from Barnstaple to take Sir Godfrey and Miss Lil and my lady away across the sea to France, and Pshaw! I never heard the like of it; they're going to take that great rough ugly brother of mine with them. They're all right."
Many weeks of busy soldiering followed, by which time the king's power was crushed, and the Parliamentary forces had swept away all opposition.
Regiments were gradually disbanded, and the Forresters at last returned to the Manor, from which Colonel Forrester's stern sense of duty had kept him away, as much as the calls of his military life.
"There, Samson," he said, smiling, as they rode home, "you may sheathe your sword, and sharpen your rusty scythe; while you, Fred--what are we to do with you? Send you back to school?"
"No, father, I must be what I am--a soldier still," said Fred, proudly; "but I hope in peace more than in war."
"Yes; we have had enough of war for years to come."
The colonel drew rein that sunny afternoon as they were passing the ruined Hall, and Fred heard him sigh, but he forgot that directly after in his eagerness to get home; and soon after father and son were locked in turn in sobbing Mistress Forrester's arras.
There was abundance to tell that night as they sat in the old, old room, where mother and son exchanged glances, each silently questioning the other with the eye as to whether the time had not come for telling all; but still they hesitated, till all at once Colonel Forrester exclaimed sadly--
"This is nearly perfect happiness--home and peace once more; but it is not complete. You say Lady Markham and her daughter left a month ago for France?"
"Yes, dearest," replied Mistress Forrester.
"Ah!" sighed the colonel, "I'd give all I have to know that mine enemy was saved from the horrors of that terrible evening."
"Will you give your forgiveness, father?" said Fred, rising.
"Forgiveness?"
"Yes: to one who was somewhat of a traitor to his cause."
"My boy! what do you mean?" cried the colonel; and Fred told all he knew, Mistress Forrester supplementing his narrative with a vivid description of how the fugitive Royalists had been helped into the cavern, and had then escaped by sea.
The colonel rose, and stood staring straight before him, and then he slowly went to the door, signed to them not to follow, and they heard him go upstairs, where, in dread at last, Mistress Forrester followed, to find him on his knees.
When, half an hour after, he returned to the dining-room, his face seemed changed, and there was a bright look in his eyes as if a weight had been lifted from his mind, while twice over his son heard him whisper softly--"Thank God! Thank God!"
It was after years had passed, and various political changes had taken place, that one bright May day, bright as such days are sometimes seen in the west, a heavy carriage drawn by four horses, and attended by two gentlemen and a sturdy servitor on horseback, passed slowly up and down the hills along the road leading to the Hall.
One gentleman was stern and grey-looking, the other tall and grave beyond his years, while, seated in the carriage were a careworn-looking lady and a beautiful, graceful-looking girl.
As they neared the old entrance to the park, the gentleman ordered the coachman to stop, and himself opened the carriage door, after dismounting, and handed the ladies out on to the soft turf.
"It is more humble for pilgrims to travel a-foot," he said, with a sad smile. "Do you think you feel strong enough to bear the visit?"
The lady could not answer for a few moments. Then, mastering her emotion, she said, "Yes;" and, taking the speaker's arm, they were moving off, followed by the younger pair, the whole party looking like courtly foreigners, when, after tethering the horses to so many trees, and leaving them in charge of the coachman, the stout serving-man strode up to the elderly gentleman.
"Would your honour let me have a look at my old garden once again?"
"Yes, Nat, yes. Take a farewell look. It is a fancy to see the old place in ruins, and have an hour's dream over the past. Then we will say good-bye for good."
The man touched his hat, and turned off through the plantation, while the party moved on slowly along the familiar old drive, the ladies, with their eyes veiled with tears, hardly daring to look up till they had nearly reached the great entrance to the fine old place, when they started at a cry from the younger man.
"Father!" he cried. "What does this mean? This is your work--a surprise?"
"Scar, my boy, no; I am astounded."
For there before them, almost precisely as it was of old, stood the Hall, rebuilt, refurnished, bright and welcoming, the lawn, terrace, and parterre gay with flowers, all as if the past had been a dream, while at that moment Colonel and Mrs Forrester appeared with Fred, hat in hand, in the porch.
Sir Godfrey Markham drew himself up, and his eyes flashed as he turned upon the colonel.
"I see," he cried. "Usurper! Well, I might have known!"
"That this was the act of an old friend to offer as a welcome when you should return," said Colonel Forrester, holding out his hand.
Sir Godfrey looked at the extended hand, then in Colonel Forrester's eyes, and again round him in utter astonishment.
"I--I--came," he faltered, "to--to see the ruins of my dear old home.
How could I know that the man whom I once called friend--"
"Till all those dreadful changes came, and set us wide apart. Yes, I heard you were coming down."
"Godfrey! husband!" whispered Lady Markham; "can you not see?"