The New Forest Spy | Page 5

you come from?"
"Yes, you are a coward," said the lad bitterly, "or you would not insult
a gentleman lying weak and helpless at your mercy."
Waller felt a little touched.
"Oh, I don't want to insult you," he said: "and perhaps I am as much of
a gentleman as you are. But look here; who are you?"
"You know," said the lad bitterly. "I give up, I tell you. Be content that
you have got the upper hand of me. I won't struggle against fate; only
make me one promise," he continued, in a bitter, mocking tone.
"Well, what is it?" said Waller.
"Come and see your prisoner hung, for I suppose your brutal Dutchmen
will not have me shot."
"I say," said Waller, staring more wonderingly than ever at his prisoner,
"you are using very fine language. Are you a bit off your head? Who
wants to hang or shoot you? What Dutchmen?"
"The enemy--the brutal soldiery, of course."
"I say, look here, I don't know what you are talking about," said Waller,
"and I don't know who you are, only that you jumped out at me like a
highwayman with a pistol. I say, what are you?"
"One of the spies, I suppose," said the boy mockingly. "One of the poor
unfortunate wretches you people are hunting through the woods."
"Nonsense!" cried Waller. "You must be fancying all this. There are no
soldiers here hunting people. Do you know where you are?"
"Yes; in the New Forest."
"That's right, and in the part my father holds the shooting over. But,"

continued Waller, showing his white teeth, "he wouldn't want to shoot
you if he were at home; you are not fat enough. Pooh! Nobody would
want to shoot a boy like you."
"Boy! Who do you call a boy?" cried the poor fellow, flushing up
again.
"Why, you, of course. You are no older than I am, and I am a boy."
"Well, never mind that. You have made me a prisoner. What are you
going to do next?"
"Well, I think I am going to pick up that pistol, wherever it lies."
"Bah!" cried the prisoner. "I only did it to scare you off. It isn't loaded."
"Oh!" said Waller. "Well, that's one to you. I couldn't tell."
"What are you going to do with me now?" said the lad haughtily.
"Chain me?"
"Chain you!" said Waller, laughing, "why, you are not a dog. I am not
going to do anything with you. I don't want you."
"No; but you want the blood-money, I suppose."
"There you go again," cried Waller pettishly. "Chains and blood! I say,
do you know what you are talking about? Blood-money?"
"Yes; the reward for taking me."
"Reward! For taking you?"
"Yes, where are your bloodhounds?"
"Well, you are a rum chap," said Waller, laughing. "You talk like a
fellow in a romance. We have no bloodhounds. We have a pointer, a
water-spaniel, and a retriever. Why, what sort of an idea have you got
in your head about bloodhounds hunting you?"

"I--I meant the soldiers," said the poor fellow faintly: and his eyes
began to close. "Let me sit up, please. I think I'm dying."
CHAPTER THREE.
ON PAROLE.
The words sounded so real, and there was such a deathly aspect in the
pallor and the cold perspiration that started upon the prostrate lad's
ghastly-looking face, that Waller was convinced at once, and quickly
rising from where he sat he bent over and raised the lad's head a little,
but only to lay it down again as the poor fellow fell back quite
insensible.
But the attack passed off as quickly as it had come, and, relieved by the
removal of the heavy pressure upon his chest, he began to breathe more
freely, his eyes opened slowly in a wild stare of wonder as if he could
not comprehend where he was, and then, as his senses fully returned, a
faint smile dawned upon his thin lips.
"Don't laugh at me," he said. "It was like a great girl. I must have
fainted dead away."
"Yes, you did, and no mistake," said Waller. "Come down to the stream
and have a drink of water.--If I let you get up you won't try to escape?"
"No," said the lad bitterly, as he raised one hand, and let it fall again
heavily amongst the bracken. "I am as weak as a child."
"Yes," said Waller, "you are. Now, look here; you remember what you
said about the honour of a gentleman?"
The lad bowed his head slightly.
"You are a gentleman?"
"Yes."

"Then give me your word that you won't try to escape."
"I will not try to escape. I could not if I wished. I tell you it is all over
now, I am