our precautions were all that an officer on such
a duty could take, and all that I should have taken."

"You seem to be giving me fresh life, father," whispered Fred. "But how
did you know?"

"Partly from the advance guard, partly from Samson; and both join in
saying that my son behaved as a gallant officer should. I am quite
satisfied, my boy. I sent you upon a dangerous expedition, and in spite
of the perils of your journey, you have escaped with life, and you are
no longer a prisoner. In fact, we have turned the tables on the enemy
again, and read them a lesson they will not forget."

"Yes; I heard the fighting, father."

"And do you know whose men they were?"

"No."

"Sir Godfrey Markham's."

"Father?"

"Yes; and his son, lately your prisoner, was with them."

"And they are prisoners now?"

"No, my boy; they cut their way out with about a hundred mere, and
escaped. This war is one of constant change."

"Then you are not angry with me, father?"

"On the contrary, Fred, I am proud. You acted better than many older
officers would have done."

"You say that to comfort me over my disgrace."

"I say it because it is true, and because you are not in disgrace. A
far more experienced man would easily have been led into such an ambush,
betrayed as you were."

"Betrayed?" said Fred.

"Yes; some one must have carried information to the enemy."

"You think that?"

"Of course."

"But who could have done so? We had no traitors with us."

"Perhaps not, but the enemy may have had friends near."

"Impossible, father!"

"Quite possible, my boy. Where did you stay to refresh your men?"

"Here, father--at this very place. At least," added Fred, as he glanced
round, "if this is the little inn where I was a prisoner in the loft."

"The very place, my boy; and now the secret is out. Lie still now, and
don't speak."

Fred gazed at his father eagerly as he rose from his knees and crossed
to the door, which he opened, passed out on to the landing, called for
the host, and returned.

Instead of the florid landlord, there was a heavy step on the stairs,
and the shock-headed boy of the place entered the room to look from Fred
to Colonel Forrester and back.

"Where does the nearest doctor live?" said the colonel, quietly.

"At Brownsand," replied the lad, with another sympathetic glance at the
wounded officer.

"Rather a long ride?"

"Only twelve miles, sir."

"But that's where a body of the k