Mass' George

"Out ob de fort?"

"Well, outside of the big fence."

Pomp gave a little laugh.

"Why, Pomp go over easy 'nuff."

"But it's against orders," I said. "Here, I can't sleep either. Let's go and have a talk to the sentries."

Pomp jumped up at once, and without waking the others, we walked slowly to the gate, where one of the sentries challenged us and let us go on, after recognising me, the man saying with a laugh--

"That anybody with you, sir?"

"Yes," I said; "our boy Pompey."

"Oh! Shouldn't hardly have thought it. Looks like a bit o' the black night out for a walk in a pair o' white cotton drawers."

"Him laugh at Pomp," said the boy, as we went on.

"Yes; it was only his fun."

"But what um mean 'bout de dark night in cottum drawer?"

"Oh, nothing. Nonsense!"

"Yes, nonsense; Pomp know better. Night can't wear cottum drawer. All 'tuff."

"Hus.h.!.+ Don't talk so loud."

"Den why say dat, an' make fun ob poor lil n.i.g.g.e.r? I know dat man.

Wait bit; I make fun ob him, an' Ma.s.s' George an' me laugh den."

"Will you be quiet, Pomp?"

"Yes; Pomp be ebber so quiet. Wait till laugh at him."

"Who goes there?" came from just ahead, out of the darkness.

"Ma.s.s' George an' me," said Pomp, promptly.

I hastened to give the word, and we were allowed to pa.s.s on, to be challenged again and again, till we reached the part of the palisade on the farther side of the block-house.

Here the sentry proved to be one of the men who had rowed out to us in Colonel Preston's boat; and as he asked about my wound and Pomp's hand, we stopped by him where upon the raised platform he stood, firelock in hand, gazing over the great fence toward the forest.

"So your hurts wouldn't let you sleep, eh?" he said. "Well, we must pay the Indians off for it if they come nigh; but it's my belief that they won't."

Then he fell to questioning me in a low tone about my adventures, and I had to tell him how Pomp and I escaped.

"I should have liked to have

"I wish you had been," I said.

"Do you? Well, come, I like that; it sounds friendly. Yes, I wish I'd been there. The cowards, shooting at people who've been soldiers, but who want to settle down into peaceable folk, and wouldn't interfere with them a bit. I only wish they'd come; I don't think they'd want to come any more."

"That's what my father says," I observed. "He thinks the Indians want a good lesson."

"So they do, my lad, so they do. Let's take, for instance, your place, which they burned down last night. Now what for, but out of sheer nasty mischief! There's plenty of room for them, and there's plenty of room for us. If they think they're going to frighten us away they're mistaken. They don't know what Englishmen are, do they, little n.i.g.g.e.r?"

"How Pomp know what de Injum tink?" said the boy, promptly.

The man turned to me and gave me a nudge, as he laughingly continued, in the whisper in which the conversation was carried on--

"Ah, well, they don't know, but if they'd come, I think we should teach them, for every one here's fighting for his home, without thinking about those who are fighting for their wives and children as well. You don't understand that yet, squire."

"I think I do," I said. "I suppose a man would fight for his wife and children in the same way as I would try and fight for my father."

"Well, suppose it is about the same. You'll have to fight some day, perhaps."

"Ma.s.s' George fight dreffle," put in Pomp. "Shoot lot of Injum."

"Nonsense, Pomp!" I said, hurriedly.

"Not nonsense. Pomp see um tummle down when. Ma.s.s' George shoot um."

"Why, you didn't fire on the Indians, did you, squire?" said the man.

"Lot o' times," said Pomp, quickly.

The man let his firelock go into the hollow of his left arm, and he shook my hand warmly, as Pomp stood staring over the fence into the darkness.

"I like that," he said, as I felt very uncomfortable and shrinking.

"But then I might have known it. Your father and Colonel Preston didn't hit it very well together, but the colonel always said your father was a very brave officer, quiet as he seemed--and like father, like son. Feel chilly?"

"No," I said.

"Well, it isn't cold, but after being so hot all day it feels a bit different. Heigho! I shouldn't at all mind having a good sleep. One gets tired of watching for nothing."

"Sit down and have a sleep," I said. "I'll hold your gun and keep guard."

"Will you, my lad?" he said, eagerly.

"Yes; I can't sleep, and I'll wake you directly if there is anything wrong."

"Come, that's friendly," said the man. "I like that, and I'd give anything for an hour's sleep. Catch hold; I'll lie down here. You'll be sure and call me?"

"You may trust me."

"Bah!" cried the man in an ill-used tone, and s.n.a.t.c.hing back his firelock, "that's done it."