inst brother. Poor Godfrey! Poor Scarlett! So full of brave
manliness and courage. Fitting end for two brave spirits; but I feel as
if I had assisted at their death."

But at that moment Fred made a mental effort.

"I will not believe it," he said, with a shudder. "It is too horrible."
Then aloud, "Father, may I take something to the prisoners, and help
them? They look very bad."

"Yes, yes; of course," said the colonel, starting as it were back to the
present. "Poor fellows! The surgeon must be with them now; but go and
do your best."

But hard as Fred worked by the light of the burning house, he could do
little to assuage the pains, mental and bodily, of the prisoners. They
assumed a careless indifference, a good-humoured contempt for their
captors. They were Cavaliers--gentlemen who did not scruple to serve as
ordinary soldiers for the benefit of their country; and they smiled at
the rough stern men of the Puritan ranks. But deep in their hearts
there was a despairing rage at being conquered, which bit and stung, and
made them writhe more than the throbbings of their wounds.

The refreshments Fred took to them, helped by Samson, were simple, but
most welcome; and more than one eye brightened and directed a friendly
grateful look at the lad who busied himself on the captives' behalf.

"No; no more, my boy," said the tall, fair Cavalier, smiling at Fred, as
he pressed him to eat. "I have a wound here that throbs as if some one
were thrusting a red-hot iron through my shoulder. I suppose it is all
right, but your surgeon has not hands like some delicate lady."

"Can I do anything?" said Fred, eagerly. "Shall I bathe the wound?"

"No, my desperate and deadly enemy, no," said the Cavalier, smiling as
he look Fred's hand; "and look here: some of these days the war will be
over, and if you and I are not sleeping too soundly, you must come and
see me, and I'll come and see you. At present our duty is to kill each
other, or take one another prisoner. By-and-by we shall have more time.
There," he said, drawing a ring from his finger; "you wear that, and
remember that Harry Grey always feels respect and esteem for a brave
enemy, while for you--Oh, curse it! We are not enemies. God bless you,
my lad! You and Scar Markham ought to be working together as a pair."

He turned impatiently away, laid his head upon the folded cloak, of
which Fred had made a pillow and closed his eyes, as if annoyed that he
s