The New Forest Spy | Page 6

I am an enemy--a follower of the Stuarts."
"Oh," said Waller, in a puzzled tone, as the lad slowly and painfully rose and then snatched at something to save himself, for he reeled. "Here, I say, you are weak," cried Waller, saving him from falling, "lean on me. The stream is just over there," and he led his feeble adversary down the slope to the nearest opening where he could lie down and reach over the bank to drink from the clear water in the most ancient and natural way--that is, by lowering his lips till they touched the surface.
The lad drank deeply, and then rose to a sitting position, making no effort to stand.
"Ah," he said faintly, "I feel better now. There," he went on, "I suppose you didn't know the soldiers were here?"
Waller shook his head, content to listen.
"They are; and you know all about the trouble--about the Stuarts making another stand for their rights?"
"Oh, not much," said Waller. "I have read, of course, about the Old Pretender and the Young Pretender."
"Pretenders!" said the lad bitterly. "Those who fought for their rights as heirs to the British Crown. They are at rest, but an heir still lives, and it is his fortunes we follow."
"Oh," said Waller thoughtfully. "Yes, I have heard of him--in France," and he looked more curiously in the other's eyes as he asked his next question, thinking the while of the slight accent in the lad's speech.
"But you have not come from there?"
"Yes," said the lad quietly, and with a bitter tone of sadness in his words; "we crossed over from Cherbourg--oh, it must be a month ago."
"We?" said Waller inquiringly.
"Yes; I came with my father and four other gentlemen to Lymington."
"And are they here in the forest?"
The lad looked at him wonderingly.
"No," he said; "they were all hunted down like wild beasts--treated as spies."
"And where are they now?" said Waller eagerly.
"Who knows?" replied the lad sadly. "Lingering in prison, if they have not already been shot. Quick! Tell me," he continued, catching Waller by the arm. "My father! Have you heard anything about him?"
"I? No," said Waller. "Oh, surely not shot! But in this quiet country place at the Manor we hear so little of what is going on. I can't help being so ignorant about all these things."
"You are all the happier, perhaps," said the lad sadly.
"Oh, I don't know," said Waller. "I am afraid I don't know much about what's going on. I am fond of being out here in the woods. It is holiday-time now my father's out. But I say," he continued, with a frank laugh, "isn't it rather funny that you and I should be talking together like this, after--you know--such a little while ago?"
"Yes, I suppose so; but I thought you were one of the enemy coming to take me."
"Yes," said Waller; "and I don't know what I thought about you when I was looking down the barrel of that pistol."
"I--I beg your pardon," faltered the lad. "I was half-mad."
"Quite mad, I think," said Waller to himself. Then aloud, "But, I say, why were you here?"
"I was hiding; trying to get down to the coast and make my way back to France. The soldiers have been hunting me for days, but I have escaped so far."
"To get back to France?" said Waller. "But are you not English?"
"Yes, of course. Don't I speak like an Englishman?"
"Well, there is a little something queer about it," said Waller--"a sort of accent."
"I said English," continued the other, "but my family, the Boynes, are of Irish descent, and staunch followers of the Stuarts."
"Yes; but that's all over now, you know," said Waller. "Don't you think you had better give all that up and go back?"
"I was trying to go back," said the lad despairingly.
"Or stop here."
"You talk like a follower of the Pretender," said the lad bitterly.
"That I don't!" cried Waller indignantly. "My father is a magistrate, and a staunch supporter of King George. But there, I didn't mean to talk like that," he cried, as he noted the change that came over his companion's face. "Here, I say, never mind about politics. You look-- well, very ill. Hadn't you better go home?"
"Go home! How? Separated from my friends, who perhaps by now are dead!" The words came with a sob, "Go! How? Hunted from place to place like a wolf!" He tried to rise, but sank back. "Ill? Yes," he groaned; "deadly faint. You don't know what I have suffered. I am starving."
"How long have you been here?" said Waller, whose sympathies were growing more and more strong in favour of his prisoner.
"I don't know. Days."
"But why were you starving?" said Waller half-indignantly.
"Why should I not be?" said the boy bitterly. "Alone in these wilds."
"Well," cried Waller. "I shouldn't have starved if I