it's been creeping and rushing and leaping over
everything! Even the big tool-house and fruit-room's burned. Such a
pity. Nice lot of tools all destroyed; and, not that I want to find
fault, but a deal better set than we ever had at the Manor. Why, there
was a barrow, sir, as run that light in your hands, no matter how you
filled it, as made it a pleasure to work."

"And all burned, Samson?"

"All burned into ashes, sir. I never could understand it, but it always
did seem hard as a man like brother Nat should have such a barrow as
that, while I had one as I was ashamed of."

"We must get to the wilderness to-night, Samson, somehow."

"Oh, he won't hurt, sir," said Samson, roughly. "He's right enough; but
I've got a bottle o' cider, and three bread-cakes, and half a roast fowl
to take with us when we go."

"That's right," said Fred, smiling in spite of himself; but only to turn
serious as an agonising thought shot through him, for a portion of the
roof of the Hall fell just then, and a whirlwind of sparks sprang into
the evening sky.

"Have you heard any news, Samson?" whispered Fred.

"News, sir?"

"Of Sir Godfrey and Scarlett?"

Samson stood gazing straight at the fire, his eyes half shut, and his
forehead a maze of puckers and wrinkles, and he seemed not to have heard
in the intentness of his watching the progress of the fire.

"Do you hear what I say?" reiterated Fred. "Is there any news of Sir
Godfrey and Scarlett?"

"Yes, I hear what you say, sir."

"Then why don't you speak?"

"'Cause I haven't nothing good to say."

"Oh, Samson, there is no bad news?"

"No, sir; there's no bad news at all."

"Then what do you mean? What have you heard?"

"Don't, don't ask me, my lad."

"But I do ask you, and I will know."

"I only know what the men think, and of course that may mean nothing."

"What do they think?"

"Now, look ye here, Master Fred," cried Samson, appealingly, "what's the
good of your bullying me into saying things which will only make you
cross with me, and call me a thundering idiot, or some other pretty
thing like that?"

"But anything's better than suspense, and I want to know the worst."

"Well, then, you can't," said Samson, gruffly. "There aren't no worse,
because it's all guessing."

"Well, then, what do they guess?"

"Now, look ye here, Master Fred--is it fair to make me tell you, and put
you in a passion; and you a-standing there with a sword by your side,
and