ed the lad. "You are going away--
because the king wants the help of every loyal heart. Well, father, you
will take me too."

"Take--you? Scar! No, no; you are too young."

"I expected to hear you say that, but I shall soon be older; and, though
I am only a boy, I could be useful to you in a hundred ways. I suppose
I am too young to fight."

"Yes, yes; of course."

"Well, others could do the fighting. Couldn't you make me something--
your esquire?"

"Knights do not have esquires now, my boy," said Sir Godfrey, with a
smile; "but--"

He stopped short, while his son gazed at him eagerly, waiting for the
end of his speech.

"Yes, father--but--?" said Scarlett, after waiting some time.

"I was only thinking, my son, as to which was my duty--to bid you watch
over your mother and sister here, or to devote you to the service of
your king."

"Devote me to the service of my king, father," cried Scarlett, proudly.

"No, no, my boy," cried Lady Markham. "Don't try to stop me, mother,"
said Scarlett. "You know I should have to stay here in peace to take
care of you who are not in danger; but ought you not rather wish to have
me trying to watch over him who will be in the war?"

Lady Markham bowed her head. She could not trust herself to speak, for
her son's words had set his going in a new light. But she still
hesitated, clinging first to father, then to son, and ending by
exclaiming--

"Heaven's will be done! I can say no more."

"No, mother. Let me go, and I will do all I can to protect my father."

She gazed piteously at him through her tears, and then cast herself
sobbing upon his breast, while Sir Godfrey gravely set his daughter by
her mother's side, and laid his hand upon her head.

"Scarlett is right, dearest. He can do more good by embracing his
father's profession at once. He will learn to be a soldier, and--
perhaps--he may be able to protect me. Who can tell!"

Lady Markham took and kissed her husband's hand, and then once more
embraced her son, ending by taking her daughter to her heart, and
weeping over her silently, while Sir Godfrey paced the room.

"Yes, my boy?" he said suddenly, as he caught his son's eye.

"When shall you start, father?"

"To-morrow at the latest. Quite early in the morning, if we can get
away."

"So soon?"

"Yes. Have you begun to repent already?"

"Oh no, father; but I thought that I should like to go over to the Manor
to say good-bye."

Sir God