The Black Tor | Page 3

captain, till we've got our legs under a table."
"Ah, yes. Poor boys, they are footsore and weary with the walk across your hilly moors. Excuse this emotion, young sir, and lead me to my old brother's side."
There was something comic in the boy's look of perplexity and disgust, as, after a few moments' hesitation, he began to lead the way toward the half castle, half manor-house, which crowned the great limestone cliff.
"Surely," he thought, "my father cannot wish to see such a ragamuffin as this, with his coarse, bloated features, and disgraceful rags and dirt."
But the next minute his thoughts took a different turn.
"If what the man says be true, father will be only too glad to help an old brother-officer in misfortune, and be sorry to see him in such a plight."
With the frank generosity of youth, then, he softened his manner toward his companion, as they slowly climbed upward, the great beeches which grew out of the huge cracks and faults of the cliff shading them from the sun.
"So this is the way?" cried the man.
"Yes: the castle is up there," and Ralph pointed.
"What! in ruins?" cried the captain.
"Ruins? No!" cried Ralph. "Those stones are natural; the top of the cliff. Our place is behind them. They do look like ruins, though."
"Hah! But what an eagle's nest. No wonder I find an eaglet on my way."
Ralph winced, for the man clapped a dirty hand upon his shoulder, and gripped him fast, turning the lad into a walking-staff to help him on his road.
"Have you come far this morning?" said Ralph, to conceal his disgust.
"Ay, miles and miles, over stones and streams, and in and out among mines and holes. We were benighted, too, up yonder on the mountain."
"Hill," said Ralph; "we have no mountains here."
"Hills when you're fresh, lad; mountains when you're footsore and weary. But we stumbled upon a niche, in a bit of a slope near the top, and turned out the bats and foxes, and slept there."
"Where?" cried Ralph quickly. "Was there a little stream running there--warm water?"
"To be sure there was. Hard stones, and warm water: those were our bed and beverage last night."
"I know the place. Darch Scarr."
"Fine scar, too, lad. Been better if it had been healed up, with a door to keep out the cold wind. Oh! so this is where my old comrade lives," he added, as he came in sight of an arched gateway, with embattled top and turrets, while through the entry, a tree-shaded courtyard could be seen. "And a right good dwelling too. Come on, brave boys. Here's rest and breakfast at last."
"And I hope you'll go directly after," thought Ralph, as he led the way into the courtyard, and paused at a second entrance, at the top of a flight of stone steps, well commanded by loopholes on either side. Then aloud:
"Will you wait here a minute, while I go and tell my father?"
"Yes: tell him his old brother-officer is here."
"I did not catch your name when you spoke before," said Ralph. "Captain Pearl Ross?"
"Nay, nay, boy; Purlrose. He'll know directly you speak. Tell him, I'm waiting to grasp him by the hand."
Ralph nodded, and sprang up the stone flight, while the visitor's companions threw themselves down upon the steps to rest, their leader remaining standing, and placing himself by the mounting stone on one side, hand upon sword-hilt, and arranging his ragged cloak in folds with as much care as if it had been of newest velvet.
CHAPTER TWO.
SIR MORTON RECEIVES HIS GUEST.
"Father can't be pleased," thought the lad, as he hurried in through a heavy oaken door, strengthened by the twisted and scrolled iron bands of the huge hinges, and studded with great-headed nails. This yielded heavily, as, seizing a ring which moved a lever, he raised the heavy latch, and for a moment, as he passed through, he hesitated about closing the door again upon the group below. But as he glanced at the party, he hesitated no longer. Their appearance begat no confidence, and the great latch clicked directly.
The next minute, he was hurrying along a dark stone passage, to spring up a few more stairs, leading into a corridor with a polished oaken floor, and mullioned windows looking down upon the courtyard; and as he reached the second, a bright, handsome girl, whose features proclaimed sisterhood, started out to meet him.
"Oh Ralph," she said, "who are those dreadful-looking men you have brought up?"
"Don't stop me, Min," he said hastily. "Old soldiers who want to see father. Where is he?"
"In his room."
The lad hurried on, and entered through a door way on his left, to where, in an oaken-panelled room, a stern, slightly grey, military-looking man sat poring over an old book, but looked up directly the lad entered.
"Ah, Ralph, boy," he said;