“But what does this mean?” said Sir Morton; and his son stood out, and in a frank, manly way, once more related the adventures of the night.
Sir Morton’s face grew sterner and harder as he heard everything to the finish; and he was just about to speak, when Master Rayburn broke in:
“My doing, from beginning to end. I told them they ought to do it.”
“And a nice business your interference has made, sir!” cried Sir Morton angrily. “You see now that it is impossible for two such adverse elements to get on together. The brutes! to turn upon those who had been fighting by their side!”
“Are you speaking about your men or Sir Edward Eden’s?” said the old man drily.
“Eden’s, of course,” cried Sir Morton angrily.
“Six of one and half-a-dozen of the other,” said the old man; “and all due to the evil teaching of their masters, my dear old friend. Come, Darley, it’s of no use to cry over spilt milk; the boys have set their fathers a splendid example, and driven in the thin end of the wedge. The sooner you and Eden send it home the better.”
“I must try again.”
“Of course. I don’t ask you to make friends. It would be absurd; but you must stir now, and I shall tell Eden the same, and that he cannot for very shame leave the work undone that his son has begun. Ralph, lad, you go to bed, and sleep all day. I am doctor enough to insist to your father that you are not to be disturbed. I must go up to the Black Tor at once, for I suppose I am badly wanted there.”
The old man hurried away with the remainder of his bandages, and Sir Morton signed to his son, who followed him to the room into which Captain Purlrose had been ushered.