Up this hill they were toiling, with Rupert in the lead. He limped a little, as Merrylips was glad to notice. Then what should they see, on the crest of the hill above them, sharply outlined against the gray sky, but a mounted man? When they looked closer, they saw that he was an armed man, and that he wore across his cuirass the orange scarf of a rebel officer.
At that sight both children shrank into the shadow of the thicket under which ran their path. But Merrylips thought less of the rebel officer than of the taunts that Rupert would surely cast at her, for having befriended the like of him. She tried to think of a bitter answer to make him, and she stiffened herself for an open quarrel, as she saw him turn toward her.
But Rupert's face, as he looked at her, was not that of a quarrelsome little boy. It was a troubled, older face, such as she had not seen him wear.
"Hide thou here in the bushes, Tibbott," he bade. "And stay thou hidden, whatever happen, till I come again."
He did not make her his comrade so much as to tell her what he thought or feared or what he planned to do. But he chose a sheltered spot for her, deep among elder bushes and young birches, and he gave her the flask and what was left of the food. He bade her eat and drink and rest her there in safety. Then he tucked his pistol into his belt and trudged away alone over the hill to King's Slynton.
There in the thicket Merrylips sat all day, and it was the longest day that ever she had known. At first she slept, but she could not sleep all the time. Then she watched the flights of rooks that winged across the sullen sky. She watched the rabbits that scurried through the copse below her. She built little houses of dead leaves and twigs and pebbles. All sorts of things she did, not to think of what might have happened to Rupert and be afraid.
It was almost twilight when Rupert came back. He dropped down beside her under the bushes, and drew a long breath as if he were tired.
"The rebels have taken King's Slynton," he said.
Merrylips knew then that she had known that this would be his news. So she did not cry out or show fear. All she did was to ask him, "When?"
"Yesterday," he answered. "They beat our men out of the village, and have set a garrison of their own ruffians in their stead."