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"You coward!" said Ralph, with his pale face flus.h.i.+ng now.
"What!" cried Mark. "Oh yes, call names like a girl. Come: beg for your life."
Ralph's answer was a fierce and scornful look, which told of what he would do if his hands were free. Then for a few moments he struggled, and Mark laughed.
"No good," he said; "our men can tie knots fast enough to hold a Darley."
The men, who stood at a little distance, laughed together in their satisfaction as they eagerly waited to see what was to come. Mark did not keep them long in suspense, for his hand went to the hilt of his sword, which he half drew.
"Now," he said, "beg for your life, Darley."
"Coward!" cried Ralph, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.
"Very well," said Mark. "I gave you the chance. You were caught by our men stealing on our land, and you ought to have begged. The Darleys always were beggars and thieves; but you will not. I gave you the opportunity."
He thrust the sword back in its sheath, and let his right hand fall to his side, where a strong knife-like dagger hung by a short chain from his belt, and whipped it out of its case.
"Does for a hunting-knife," he said, with a curious laugh. "My father has killed many a stag with it. Now, are you going to beg for your life?"
There was no reply, and the men took a step or two forward.
"Go back!" cried Mark fiercely; and the men obeyed.
Mark bent over the prisoner, with the mocking laugh intensifying.
"Too much of a coward to beg for your life," he said: "well, I'm too much of a coward to make you see it taken. There!"
With a quick movement, he turned Ralph over upon his face, thrust the point of the dagger beneath the line where the cut would tell best, and the prisoner's wrists were free; another quick cut divided the rope which drew his elbows together, and then the knees and ankles followed, the strained hemp easily parting at the touch of the keen blade, and Ralph Darley was free.
"Why, Master Mark," cried the chief man of the party in astonishment, "what you doing of?"
"Can't you see, idiot?" cried Mark, with a fierce snap.
"But what's the good of our ketching and tying on him?" cried the man addressed as Tom, in an ill-used tone.
"Say another word, you brute, and I'll have you tied as you tied him,"
cried Mark fiercely.
"Well, I dunno what Sir Eddard'll say when he knows."
"What he says he'll say to me," cried Mark. "You fellows ought to be in the mine by now. Go back to your work."
The youth stood pointing down the steep slope, and an angry murmur of opposition arose; but the men began to move off, only to be called back just as Ralph rose painfully to his feet.
"Come here," cried Mark. "Pick up those pieces of rope."
"Who's going to take them back to the mine?" said the leader, in an ill-used tone. "What's Dan Rugg going to say? Noo rope too."
"Tell him I cut it," said Mark imperiously. "You take it back."
The man picked up the pieces, and Tom quietly took up the creel from where it lay, half hidden by a tuft of fern fronds, to begin moving off with the trout. But Mark let him get a few steps away before following with a rush and a kick which sent the man on his face. Then, as he struggled up, angry and threatening, the lad s.n.a.t.c.hed the creel from his hands.
"The Edens are not thieves," he said fiercely--"only when they want a few young ravens," he added, turning with a mocking laugh to Ralph; and once more the two lads stood gazing in each other's eyes for a few moments, the rustling made by the departing men and the murmur of their voices rising from below.
Then, imitating Ralph's action of the last time they met, he pointed down to the river, and said, with a mocking laugh:
"It's my turn now. The Darleys are not the only ones who know how to treat a fallen enemy. Your creel, sir; and you are welcome to our trout."
Ralph took the basket without a word, and without taking his eyes from Mark's, while it seemed as if each lad was fighting hard not to be the first to let his glance sink before the other's.
Then Ralph raised the lid of the creel, and began to take out the fish, but hesitated, and laid them back. To have thrown them on the ground seemed to him contemptible and mean.
"Now go," said Mark. "You and I are straight, sir. Next time we meet I hope you will wear your sword."
Ralph hesitated, and remained standing in the same place; his eyes looking as if he wanted to speak, but no words would come; and at last he turned and took a step to go, but his numbed feet and ankles gave way beneath him, and he tottered, and would have fallen, had not Mark involuntarily sprung forward and caught him in his arms.
Ralph laughed painfully.
"Let me sit down on the enemy's ground for a few minutes," he said.
"Your men have left me no use in my limbs."
Mark gently let him down; and, faint with pain, the cold sweat breaking out in great drops all over his brow, Ralph said feebly, smiling the while:
"Not straight yet, Master Eden. I am in your debt now."
Then a deathly feeling of sickness came over him; trees, rocks, and sunny sky were dim, and glided before his eyes till all was darkness, for how long he could not tell.
When he opened his eyes again the sickly feeling still troubled him, but he could not understand why. It was like awakening from some troubled dream, and full consciousness came back slowly. Then, by degrees, he grasped the fact that his head was resting on a tuft of heath, and bracken fronds shaded him from the sun. His wrists throbbed with sharp-shooting pains, which ran right up beyond his elbows. There were pains, too, about his knees and ankles, and there was something else which he could not make out, till he looked towards his feet, to see that some one was seated a little below him on the sharp slope, with back half-turned to him, and his bare legs across his lap, chafing the ankles gently, first one and then the other, over and over again.
Ralph was quite conscious now, but he did not speak. He lay back there, making no movement, no sign; but a curiously dark look came into his eyes, and his lips quivered a little, grew firm again, and were softened by a smile, while a strange glowing sensation set in about his heart.
Five minutes must have elapsed before Mark Eden turned his head, started as he saw that Ralph's eyes were watching him, and his quiet intent gaze gave place to a frown; his face became scarlet, and he hastily placed his patient's legs upon the ground.
"How long have you been watching me?" he said hotly.
"Only a minute or so. Did I faint?"
"I suppose so," said Mark roughly. "Just like a great girl."
"Yes: very weak of me," said Ralph quietly.
"Yes, very," said Mark. "The brutes tied you too tightly. Try if you can walk now. Get down by the river, and bathe them a bit."
He stood up and thrust his hands behind him, looking at his young enemy scornfully; but the scarlet flush was in his face still, and would make him look as if he were ashamed of what he had been caught doing.
Ralph sat up, and struggled painfully to his feet, turning hot and faint again; but he made a brave effort to be firm, and took a step or two and then stopped, Mark making no effort to a.s.sist him. Then stifling a cry of pain, he took another step or two and tottered, when Mark caught his arm.
"You're shamming," he cried angrily.