“They’re not satisfied with the beating they have already had,” he was saying. “Let’s show them now what we can do when we are in earnest. It was a mistake to show the rascals mercy this morning. Why, if I had been in command of the men, instead of Sir Godfrey, I would not have left two of the rebels together. Now you see the mistake.”
“I have no doubt that my father and Colonel Grey did what was right,” said Scarlett, hotly.
“And what does a boy like you know about it, sir?” cried the young officer, fiercely. “To your place.”
Scarlett felt ready to retort angrily, but he knew his duty, young soldier as he was, and resumed his place without a word.
It was none too soon, for directly after there was a glint of steel over the edge of one of the undulations of the moor, and seen at the distance they were, with the western sun shining full upon them, it seemed as if a long array of armed men was rising from the earth, as first their helmets, then their shoulders, breastplates, and soon after the horses’ heads appeared, and then more and more, till a line of well-mounted troops appeared advancing at a walk, while behind them, gradually coming into view in the same way, a second line could be seen.
As they approached over the moor, a third line came into view, while, in obedience to their orders, the Cavaliers retired by troops in slow order, each in turn having the duty of facing the advancing enemy.
When it came to Scarlett’s turn to sit there motionless watching their approach, he could not help letting his eyes stray over the moor, every foot of which was familiar. Away behind him to the left the ground rapidly descended to the park, with its lake and woods, through which he had made his way so short a time before. There, hidden by the noble trees which flourished as soon as the moorland proper, with its black peaty soil, was passed, lay the Hall, and a feeling of sadness and depression came over him as he thought of his home being made the scene of a bloody fight, and again falling into the enemy’s hands.
“May I speak a word, Master Scarlett?” said a voice behind him, in a whisper.
“Yes; what is it?” said the young officer, without turning his head.
“Hit hard, Master Scarlett, and do your best. I don’t like killing folk, and you needn’t do that; but do hit hard.”