“Yes; but your wounds, father? What am I to do about getting help?”
Sir Godfrey remained silent for a few minutes, and then said quietly—
“I am terribly weak, boy, and in a good deal of pain; but from what I know of such things, I do not think my wounds are either deep or dangerous, and if this is so, nature is the best chirurgeon. But you say there is a way out?”
“Yes, father; and I am afraid that Fred Forrester has given notice, and that it is watched.”
“The young villain!” muttered Sir Godfrey, and somehow those words seemed to send a sting through Scarlett’s brain.
After a silence, Sir Godfrey went on.
“Well, my boy,” he said, “I shall not be able to escape for days to come. You must go and try and make your way to our friends.”
“And leave you?”
“Only for a time, my boy, of course. You must find some of our men, and come and get me away.”
“I cannot leave you, father;” said Scarlett, firmly; and Sir Godfrey remained silent for a time.