“Scar!” whispered Fred, quickly, as a thought struck him, due to Samson’s general forethought, “open those bundles, and see if there is anything to get a light.”
Sir Godfrey was lowered down, and when Fred was helping Nat to sink gently on the flooring of the cave, the sharp clicking of flint and steel fell upon his ears, and soon after the gloomy place was illumined by a candle stuck in a niche of the rock.
“I wouldn’t be longer than ’bout an hour, Master Fred, sir,” came down the opening. “We may as well get back safe if we can.”
Fred answered, and then set to work, to find that the forethought of those at the Manor had provided ample store for the prisoners; and if ever wine was welcome to man, it was to the sufferers lying exhausted there upon the shaley bed of the cave.
“As soon as I am up,” said Fred at last, “I shall throw down the rope, and with the light you can explore the lower part of the cave, and see what means there are of getting to the mouth; for sooner or later a boat and men shall come to take you both where you will. Now, Scar Markham, God bless you, and good-bye!”
Fred had previously bidden Sir Godfrey farewell. Nat had sunk into the sleep of exhaustion long before, and now he stood grasping Scarlett’s hands in his.
“Some day,” said the latter, sadly, “this war must end, and then we may meet again.”
“And not till then, Scar, for I can—I must do no more. Good-bye.”
He snatched his hands from the grasp that held them, caught hold of the rope, and calling up to Samson, in another minute he was half-way up, but only to call down to Scarlett—
“Have no fear about supplies; there are those not far away who will see that you have all you want.”