“I will,” thundered out the guest. “Forrester, that’s a bargain. Good night.”
There was silence in the room as the two men went out together; and as soon as the door was closed, Mistress Forrester dropped into the nearest chair, and covered her face with her hands.
“Mother, dear mother,” cried Fred, going on his knees before her, and throwing his arms about her neck, “you are crying because I said I would be a soldier!”
“No, my boy,” she said, looking up, “I was weeping for the evil days in store for us all. Heaven be with us, and guide us all aright. Good night, my boy, good night.”
Fred kissed her tenderly, and suffered her to lead him to the door on his way to his room.
He passed his father on the stairs, and there was a troubled look in the colonel’s eyes, as he bade his son good night.
A quarter of an hour after, Fred was in bed dreaming of secret passages, and the captain helping him to fight men in rusty armour after they had won their way to the inner chamber where the old arms lay; and then it seemed to him that he heard the trampling of horses, and he woke to find it was morning, and the sun shining into his room.