warning which, had he been on the alert, would have placed Fred at a
terrible disadvantage.

The lad's eyes, as he crept on with sword in advance, were fixed on the
back of the man's half-hidden neck; and he had made his plans, but for
all that he could not help glancing down at the advancing men, and
pausing to note that the Cavaliers were at the barricaded windows, ready
for their enemy.

And now for a moment Fred again wondered whether he was doing right, and
whether his more sensible plan would not have been to go down to the
camp and spread the alarm.

His answer to this thought was to set his teeth, which grated so loudly
that his grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, and he felt sure that
he must have been heard.

But no; the man lay perfectly still, watching intently, as motionless,
in fact, as if he had been asleep; and Fred crept step by step nearer
and nearer, till he felt that he was within springing distance, and then
stopped to take breath.

"How easy it would be to kill him," he thought, "and how cowardly;" and
he was about to put his first idea into action, namely, to make one bold
spring forward, and snatch the man's sword from the sheath.

But the sword might stick, the sheath clinging to it tightly, as it
would sometimes; and if it did, instead of the man being helpless, it
would be he who was at the mercy of one who might beat him off with
ease.

So, giving up that idea, he paused a few moments, till the man raised
his head a little higher, so as to get a better view of those below, and
then with one bold spring, Fred was upon his back, with the point of his
sword driven in a peculiar way into the soft earth.

That idea had occurred to him at the last moment, and even in the
intense excitement of the moment he smiled, as he saw in it success, for
it effectually baffled the man in what was his first effort--to draw his
sword, which was pinned, as it were, to the ground by Fred's weapon
being passed directly through the hilt.

There was an angry snort, as of a startled beast, a tremendous heave,
and a coarse brown hand made a dart at the sword-blade, and was snatched
away with an exclamation of pain. Then in fiercely remonstrant tones a
harsh voice shouted--

"You coward! Only let me get a chance!"

"Samson!" cried Fred, starting back as he removed his knee from the back
of the man's head, and the ex-gardener's steel cap rolled over to the
side.

"Master Fred!" was the answer; and