on't take any notice of what I do, Master Fred," whispered
Samson. "I'll give him an old cry we used to have on the moor, when we
were boys;" and directly after, sounding distant and strange, and as if
it could not possibly have been given by his companion, there rang out a
peculiar low piping whistle, followed by a short jerky note or two.

"That's oyster-catcher, Master Fred, as you well know. If he hears that
he'll answer and know it's friends--I mean enemies."

Fred made no reply to his follower's paradoxical speech, but listened
intently.

"Again," he said, after a time; and the cry rang out, to be followed by
a dull thud as of footsteps, and a clink of steel against steel.

Fred felt his arm grasped, and Samson's hot breath in his ear.

"Keep quiet. There's a sentry close by, and they're going the rounds."

The dull sound of footsteps died away, and not till then did Samson
venture upon another call, that proved to be as unavailing as those
which had preceded it.

"P'raps he's asleep," said Samson, softly; "but that ought to have
roused him."

Fred drew a long breath, as in imagination he saw the poor wounded
fellow lying there in the dark and cold; and as a chilly perspiration
bedewed his face, he felt a horrible feeling of reproach for not having
given notice of an injured man lying in the wood. For he told himself,
and the thought gathered strength, that perhaps they had come too late.

For a few minutes he could not speak, and when he did, his heart was
beating heavily, as he whispered--

"Samson, do you think--?"

He could not finish the terrible sentence, one which his companion
misconstrued.

"Of course I do, sir. I told you so. This aren't the place, I'm sure."

"It is! it is!" said Fred, with passionate energy, "Here, I am touching
the old tree; and, yes--I know. Here is the place where he must be
lying."

"Very well, then, sir, stoop down and lay hold of his leg gently, and
give it a pull. Be on the look-out, for he can be very nasty at being
woke up. Maybe he'll kick out. He used to when we were boys."

Fred felt dizzy as he listened to his companion's careless utterance,
and he asked himself whether he should tell him what he thought. Twice
over he was on the point of speaking, but he clung to the hope that his
ideas might be only fancy, and he stood there turning icily cold.

The idea seemed so terrible--to stoop down there in that utter darkness
and touch the form of the