"
The boy started like a greyhound, and ran through the woods with
eagerness.
"A fine stripling, that; the saints grant his arms may turn out as
good as his legs," growled out old Raoul; and so he waited with
such patience as he could command.
An hour passed, and the old man was dozing, when the boy returned.
"Wake up, old man," he said, "I bring news."
"News--what news? Are they all burnt--slain--captives?"
"I know not; only the Dismal Swamp is a mass of flame, and all the
reeds and flags are burning merrily; 'tis such a bonfire!"
"I believe the lad would clap his hands at a bonfire, if his own
grandmother were burning therein as a witch. How dost thou know
whether this is for us or against us?"
"How can I tell?" said the lad, more seriously.
"Perchance our people had not all crossed, and the English fired it
to secure their own safety. But how could they have foreseen our
expedition?"
His anxiety was not of long duration, for an object was seen
emerging from the shadow of the woods, and making by the base of
the little hill towards Aescendune.
"What cheer?" cried the old man, "hither!"
And as he spoke the stranger turned his head, hearing the familiar
sounds, and ascended the hill slowly, and with pain.
Pages:
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188