“And all burned, Samson?”
“All burned into ashes, sir. I never could understand it, but it always did seem hard as a man like brother Nat should have such a barrow as that, while I had one as I was ashamed of.”
“We must get to the wilderness to-night, Samson, somehow.”
“Oh, he won’t hurt, sir,” said Samson, roughly. “He’s right enough; but I’ve got a bottle o’ cider, and three bread-cakes, and half a roast fowl to take with us when we go.”
“That’s right,” said Fred, smiling in spite of himself; but only to turn serious as an agonising thought shot through him, for a portion of the roof of the Hall fell just then, and a whirlwind of sparks sprang into the evening sky.
“Have you heard any news, Samson?” whispered Fred.
“News, sir?”
“Of Sir Godfrey and Scarlett?”
Samson stood gazing straight at the fire, his eyes half shut, and his forehead a maze of puckers and wrinkles, and he seemed not to have heard in the intentness of his watching the progress of the fire.
“Do you hear what I say?” reiterated Fred. “Is there any news of Sir Godfrey and Scarlett?”