A Little Wizard

by Stanley John Weyman

"Preston way, do you say?"

"Yes."

Frank's face grew dark and thoughtful. "If he is in strength he will take them by surprise," he muttered. "What does he number, I wonder? Has he got only Ashton and the western Presbyterians, or is his southern army with him? If I knew, I would get across the moors at all risks, and take the news. But it would not do to go with wolf in one's mouth, and be called a fool and a croaker for pay!"

"They talk of twenty-five thousand men passing to-morrow," Jack said.

"If that be true, and the Duke be marching, as he was marching three days back, with his head a score of miles from his tail, he will be cut in two as surely as he lives!" Frank cried with an oath. He started up and began to pace the hollow, three steps this way and three that, while Jack watched him eagerly. Four-and-twenty hours of skulking had not improved the fugitive's appearance. He was hatless and had lost his sword. His face was caked with dust and sweat, his clothes were frayed and stained with blood. He had torn off part of one sleeve to bind his head, and this, with his unshaven chin and haggard eyes, contributed to his wild and desperate appearance.

Yet the boy looked at him with pure admiration. The lad felt himself a man by reason of the share he had in his perils. The younger brother longed to help the elder. "You can see the road from the lower moor," he said eagerly; "that is no more than a mile from here. Could you not go there and see them pass, Frank, and then go to the Duke?"

"Could I see them pass in these clothes?" Frank answered, with a bitter smile. "True, I am not much like a cavalier, but I am not much like a Parliament man either! I should have the cry raised on me before I was a mile across the moor."

"I forgot that," the boy said despondently. "Yet it would be a great thing to warn Duke Hamilton, Frank, would it not? Do you think he will be beaten if you cannot reach him?"

The elder brother nodded gloomily, standing still and gazing at the ground. The sides of the rift rose high above them, for the place where Jack had seated himself to wait lay close to the yew wood, where the fissure at its first starting from the ravine was deepest. They had little to fear from observation; and familiarity with danger so early breeds contempt that Frank fancied he had been in hiding here a week instead of a day, and felt a proportionate confidence in his lurking place. The sun lay hot on the moor: the shadow where the two stood was cool and pleasant.

"I suppose I could not do it," Jack said at last, humbly, and as one expecting a rebuff. "I am afraid I could not count well enough, Frank; but I will try, if you like."