"As bad as it can be," answered Lord Wintoun. "Take my word for it, Van, your fat will soon be as cold and hard as one of your own leaden figures, unless you contrive to be politic."
"But what would you have me do?" inquired the poor statuary. "I think things seem going well enough for my part."
"Poor man!" ejaculated Lord Wintoun. "You have eyes, doubtless, for the heads of your statues, but none it seems for your own. However, here comes your pet, Lord Eskdale. Ask him. What do you think he is galloping about the country for, upon the top of this knoll and over that hill, and through the other gate, or leaping his weary horse over a fence like a cat through a window? You don't know? I'll tell you then. He is looking out to see if he can perceive, through all this rain, the enemy's troops, which he knows will be upon us before three days are over. He is not to be fooled, like your Forster and Kenmure, with the fancy that we shall be allowed to march through the land at our leisure. Well, Eskdale, do you see them?"
"It is hardly possible to see at all," replied the young Earl; "but I see nothing except our own men on the right, and the church of Preston, I suppose, a few miles off."
"What do you think Carpenter is doing?" asked Lord Wintoun.
"In truth, I do not know," returned Smeaton; "probably marching after us till he knows he has us in a net, ready to fall upon us the moment it is advisable. We shall make a good fight of it, though, I doubt not; for most of these gentlemen have strong hearts, if not strong heads."
"Ay, the garret story is very empty," said Lord Wintoun. "Do tell this good poor man, Eskdale, why you have refused all command in our great army."
"Simply, because I would not have any responsibility," returned Smeaton, "in an enterprise which is destined to end in misfortune and disgrace. There is no officer of experience whom I would not have served under, in whatever capacity he chose to assign me. But Mr. Forster, though a very good country gentleman, I dare say, is no soldier; and it requires fully as much skill and experience, my noble friend, to command an army as to cut out a wooden spoon. Any one who may attempt either without some practice will cut his fingers and spoil his work."
"Then, my good Lord, why do you not leave them?" interrogated Van Noost, with a very unpleasant choking sensation about the throat. "Here is this noble Earl of Wintoun trying hard to persuade me that it would be better for me to run."
"Faith, Van Noost, I think he is right," replied Smeaton, with a smile, adding, in a half-joking manner--"The difference is very great between you and us, Van Noost. You see, as you are fully as broad as both of us, you run a double risk of musket bullets. Besides, if we should be taken, great men can find friends to pray for them. Now, who would pray for you, I know not, but your cook and your garden shepherdesses. Seriously, however, with all the zeal in the world, I don't think you can do much good here to the cause, and none to yourself; and, if you would take my advice, you would ride away, surrender yourself to some magistrate, submit to penance for your sins, and save your body from Carpenter's carving-knives or your neck from a hempen cravat. Our honour keeps us here; but you have not much honour to gain by staying with us; and, in the circumstances, can lose little by leaving us. I give you my word that, had I not been burdened with an Earl's title, I would have left the force the moment that the mad determination of marching into England was taken. I am not bound to serve under lunatics; but it would give too severe a shock to the cause for two noblemen suddenly to abandon it."