“That is what my father said, sir.”
“What does this mean?” cried the man theatrically. “Separate me from my brave companions-in-arms? Does this mean treachery, young sir?”
“Treachery? Why should it mean that?” cried Ralph stoutly, as the man’s words endorsed the character so lately given of him. “If,” argued Ralph to himself, “the fellow were the honest, brave soldier, why should he fear treachery from the brother-officer with whom he said he had often shared danger?”
“The world is full of wickedness, boy,” replied the captain; “and I have often been misjudged. But there; a brave man never knows fear. You three come with me, and if in half an hour I do not come back, boys, you know what to do.”
There was a shout at this, and hands struck sword-hilts with a loud clang.
“Right, brave boys, and don’t leave one stone upon another until you have found your captain.”
Ralph burst out into a fit of laughter, and then felt annoyed with himself, as the man turned round scowling.
“What do you mean by that, boy?”
“That your men would have their work cut out, sir,” said Ralph sharply. “This way, please.”
The captain uttered a low growl, signed to three of his men, and the party followed the lad, who, to his annoyance, once more came across his sister, hurrying along the passage.