Then fresh sentinels were posted, and the day soon after began to break with its promise of a glorious morrow, and soon after the first glow of orange in the east told of the coming sun, and as it shone through the casement of a long low room where a pale slight girl was lying asleep, it illumined the handsome sad countenance of one who had not slept, but had knelt there praying for the safety of her son.
Chapter Thirty.
A Desperate Gallop.
To Fred’s great satisfaction, the sturdy, serious-looking followers of General Hedley treated the Hall and its surroundings with a fair amount of respect.
They did not scruple to make bountiful use of the contents of the garden; and, as far as they went, revelled on the productions of the dairy, while they one and all declared the cider to be excellent.
So comfortable were the quarters, that the absence of news of the expected reinforcements gave great satisfaction to all but the general, who walked up and down Sir Godfrey’s library fretting at the inaction, and shaking his head at his young follower, who was for the time being acting as his secretary, but with no despatches to write.
“It’s bad, Fred Forrester—bad,” he said. “When you have anything to do, let it be done firmly and well. Let there be no procrastination. Your father ought to be here by now.”
“I don’t think it can be his fault, sir,” said Fred, stoutly.