ulder.

"Then I don't want no leading," said Samson; "some one go first, and I
can feel my way with my ears."

"Go first, Scar," whispered Fred. "Don't speak; only tell him when you
reach the stairs. Now, forward!"

"Forward it is, gen'lemen. March! Never mind about that Nat. Got him
all right, Master Fred?"

There was a low chuckle by Fred's ear that sounded like one of Samson's,
as he answered--"Yes. Go on."

"Go on it is, gen'lemen; give the old donkey the spur, if he won't go."

The long passage was slowly traversed, and then began the toilsome
ascent of the stairs leading to the oak chamber, poor Nat being very
feeble, and Fred's task hard; but the top was reached at last, and the
soft fresh night air blew freely upon the rescuers' heated brows, as,
under Scarlett's guidance, they crossed the little room to the corner
where the wall had fallen away.

Here greater difficulties began in the getting down to the level of the
ground floor, stones giving way, and the darkness adding to the
difficulty. Once there was quite a little avalanche of calcined
material; but perseverance won, and all stood safely at last on the
trampled lawn in front of the ruined Hall.

"Shall we let them rest here for a bit?" whispered Fred.

"No, Master Fred, sir; they must rest on the horses' backs. Come on;
they're not fifty yards away."

A low whinny from one of the faithful beasts followed this speech, and
the party listened in dread that the sound might have been heard.

"Come on, sir," whispered Samson; "heard or no, now's our time;" and he
walked quickly to where the horses were tethered, with the others close
behind. "Now, sir," he said in a whisper, "I've got to get you on that
horse. If you can put a leg over, do. If you can't--"

Answer came in the shape of a brave effort on Sir Godfrey's part, and
the next instant he was sitting erect on the horse's back.

"Hooroar!" whispered Samson. "Now t'other one. Foot in my hands like a
lady. Nat, old chap. Ready? Up you go. That's brave. Yah! I forgot
as we was enemies. Come along. You lead him, Master Fred, as you would
bring him along."

"Can you walk all right, Scar?" whispered Fred.

"Yes. I'll take hold, though, of the horse's mane."

"Ready, Samson?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, forward, and not a word; we must leave everything to chance. Our
only hope is that we may pass between the sentinels, and that the
darkness may screen us from their eyes."