ct he said that if things were not altered,
we should have to fight."

Fred looked at him wonderingly.

"I should have got it all quite pat, you see, only just as I was getting
into the marrow of it and understanding it all, that captain sent for
me, and give me the big letter I've got in here. And now I must hurry
on." For the top of the hill was reached, and the pony broke into a
sharp trot without urging.

But Fred kept hold of the mane, and ran easily by his side, coming soon
after in sight of Colonel Forrester, standing at the garden gate,
evidently waiting for his messenger's return.

As soon as he saw them descending the slope, he walked quickly forward
to meet them, holding out his hand for the despatch, and looking so
anxious and severe that his son forbore to speak.

"Take the cob round to the stables, and treat him well," said the
colonel, sharply, as he tore open the missive and began to read.

Fred felt eagerness itself to know its contents, and he was about to
stop, examining the missive the while with eager eyes; but, recollecting
himself, he went off at a trot after Samson, who had dismounted, and was
leading the pony.

"Hope it's good news, Master Fred."

"I dare say it is. I don't know."

"The captain said I was a gardener, wasn't I; and I told him the truth,
and said I was."

"Why, of course, stupid."

"Ah, you don't understand, Master Fred. It isn't every day that a
gardener has to carry despatches. And then he said, as he give me the
answer, `Well, you say you are a gardener, don't let the grass grow
under your feet.' I didn't, Master Fred. Ask Dodder."

"No need to ask him, poor old fellow," said Fred, patting his
favourite's neck.

"Fred!" came from the road.

"Yes, father," cried the boy, and he ran back.

"I thought you were by me, my boy," said the colonel, gravely, as he
laid one hand upon his son's shoulder, and held the despatch in the
other, gazing thoughtfully before him toward the old house they were
approaching.

"I hope you have not had bad news, father," hazarded Fred.

"No, on the whole, good. It must come--it must come."

Fred looked at him inquiringly.

"What are you, Fred--sixteen, isn't it?"

"Yes, father."

"Ah, if you had been six and twenty, how useful to me you could have
been!"

Fred flushed.

"I could be useful to you now, father, if you would let me be," he said
in an injured tone. "I could have ridden over to Barnstaple with your
l