They were close up to the foot of the corner tower as Roy asked this question; and, as Lady Royland replied, a few notes of some air being played upon the violoncello high up came floating down to their ears.

"He tells me that there is no doubt about a terrible revolution having broken out, my boy; that the Parliament is raising an army to fight against the king, and that his friends feel sure that his majesty's cause is lost."

"Then he doesn't know anything about it, mother," cried the boy, indignantly. "The king has too many brave officers like father who will fight for him, and take care that his cause is not lost. Oh, I say, hark to that!"

"That" was another strain floating down to them.

"Yes," said Lady Royland, sadly; "it is Master Pawson playing. He is waiting for you, Roy."

"Yes, playing," said the boy, hotly. "It makes me think of what I read with him one day about that Roman emperor—what was his name?—playing while Rome was burning. But don't you fret, mother; London won't be burnt while father's there."

"You do not realise what it may mean, my boy."

"Oh, yes, I think I do, mother; but you don't think fairly. You are too anxious. But there! I must go up to him now."

"Yes, go, my boy; and you will not cause me any more anxiety than you can help?"

"Why, of course I won't, mother. But if it is going to be a war, don't you think I ought to learn all I can about being a soldier?"

"Roy! No, no!" cried Lady Royland, wildly. "Do I not suffer enough on your father's account?"

"There, I won't say any more, mother dear," said Roy, clinging to her arm; "and now I'll confess something."

"You have something to confess?" said Lady Royland, excitedly, as she stopped where they were, just beneath the corner tower, and quite unconscious of the fact that a head was cautiously thrust out of one of the upper windows and then drawn back, so that only the tip of an ear and a few curls were left visible. "Then, tell me quickly, Roy; you have been keeping back some news."

"No, no, mother, not a bit; just as if I would when I know how anxious you are! It was only this. Old Ben is always grumbling about the place going to ruin, as he calls it, and I told him, to please him, that he might clean up some of the big guns."

"But you should not have done this, my dear."

"No; I'll tell him not to, mother. And I'd made an arrangement with him to meet him every morning out in the primrose dell to practise sword-cutting. I was going to-morrow morning, but I won't go now."

Lady Royland pressed her lips to the boy's forehead, and smiled in his face.

"Thank you, my dear," she said, softly. "Recollect you are everything to me now! And I want your help and comfort now I am so terribly alone. Master Pawson is profuse in his offers of assistance to relieve me of the management here, but I want that assistance to come from my son."

"Of course!" said Roy, haughtily. "He's only the secretary, and if any one is to take father's place, it ought to be me."

"Yes; and you shall, Roy, my dear. You are very young, but now this trouble has come upon us, you must try to be a man and my counsellor so that when your father returns—"

She ceased speaking, and Roy pressed her hands encouragingly as he saw her lips trembling and that she had turned ghastly white.

"When your father returns," she said, now firmly, "we must let him see that we have managed everything well."

"Then why not, as it's war time, let Ben do what he wanted, and we'll put the place in a regular state of defence?"

"No, no, no, my dear," said Lady Royland, with a shudder. "Why should you give our peaceful happy home even the faintest semblance of war, when it can by no possibility come into this calm, quiet, retired nook. No, my boy, not that, please."

"Very well, mother. Then I'll go riding round to see the tenants, and look after the things at home just as you wish me to. Will that do?"

Lady Royland smiled, and then pressed her son's arm.

"Go up now, then, to Master Pawson's room," she said; "and recollect that one of the things I wish you to do is to be more studious than you would be if your father were at home."

Roy nodded and hurried up into the corridor, thinking to himself that Master Pawson would not like his being so much in his mother's confidence.

"Then he'll have to dislike it. He has been a bit too forward lately, speaking to the servants as if he were master here. I heard him quite bully poor old Jenk one day. But, of course, I don't want to quarrel with him."

Roy ascended the staircase and entered the room, to find the secretary bending over a big volume in the Greek character; and, as he looked up smiling, the boy felt that his tutor was about the least quarrelsome-looking personage he had ever seen.

"Rather a long half-hour, Roy, is it not?" he said.

"Yes, sir; I'm very sorry. My mother met me as I was coming across the garden, and talked to me, and I could not leave her in such trouble."

"Trouble? Trouble?" said the secretary, raising his eyebrows.

"Of course, sir, about the bad news you told her this morning."

"Indeed! And did Lady Royland confide in you?"

"Why, of course!" said Roy, quickly.

"Oh, yes,—of course! Her ladyship would do what is for the best. Well, let us to our reading. We have lost half an hour, and I am going to make it a little shorter this morning, for I thought of going across as far as the vicarage."

"To see Master Meldew, sir?"

"Yes; of course. He has not been here lately. Now, then, where we left off,—it was about the Punic War, was it not?"

"Yes, sir; but don't let's have anything about war this morning."

"Very well," said the secretary; "let it be something about peace."

It was something about peace, but what Roy did not know half an hour later, for his head was in a whirl, and his reading became quite mechanical. For there was the trouble his mother was in, her wishes as to his conduct, and his secret interview with Ben, to keep on buzzing in his brain, so that it was with a sigh of relief that he heard the secretary's command to close his book, and he gazed at him wonderingly, asking himself whether the words were sarcastic, for Master Pawson said—

"I compliment you, Roy; you have done remarkably well, and been very attentive this morning. By the way, if her ladyship makes any remark about my absence, you can say that you expect Master Meldew has asked me to stay and partake of dinner with him."

"Yes, sir."

"Not unless she asks," continued the secretary. "In all probability she will not notice my absence."

Roy descended with his books; then felt that he should like to be alone and think, and to this end he made his way to the gloomy old guard-room on the right of the great gate-way, ran up the winding stair, and soon reached the roof, where he lay down on the breastwork over the machicolations, and had not been there long before he heard steps, and, looking over, saw Master Pawson cross the drawbridge and go out of the farther gate-way, watching him unseen till he turned off by the pathway leading through the village and entering the main road.

Then it occurred to Roy that, as he had an unpleasant communication to make, he could not do better than get it over at once. So he descended, and began to search for the old soldier; but it was some time before he could find him out.

Yet it seemed to be quite soon enough, for the old fellow looked very grim and sour as he listened to the communication.

"Very well, Master Roy," he said; "the mistress is master now, and it's your dooty to obey her; but it do seem like playing at fast and loose with a man. There, I've got no more to say,—only that I was beginning to feel a bit bright and chirpy; but now I'm all going back'ard again, and feel as rusty as everything else about the place."

"I'm very sorry, Ben, for I really did want to learn," said Roy, apologetically.

"Yes, sir, I s'pose you did; and this here's a world o' trouble, and the longer you lives in it the more you finds out as you can't do what you like, so you grins and bears it; but the grinning's about the hardest part o' the job. You're 'bliged to bear it, but you aren't 'bliged to grin; and, when the grins do come, you never has a looking-glass afore you, but you allus feels as if you never looked so ugly afore in your life."

"But you'll have to help me in other things, Ben."

"Shall I, sir? Don't seem to me as there's anything else as I can help you over."

"Oh, but there is,—while the war keeps my father away."

"War, sir? Nonsense! You don't call a bit of a riot got up by some ragged Jacks war."

"No; but this is getting to be a very serious affair, according to what Master Pawson told my mother this morning."

"Master Pawson, sir! Why, what does he know about it?"

"A good deal, it seems. Some friends of his in London send him news, and they said it is going to be a terrible civil war."

"And me not up there with Sir Granby!" groaned the man. "Oh, dear! oh, dear! it's a wicked, rusty old world!"

"But I've promised to help my mother all I can, Ben, and you must promise to help me."

"Of course, sir; that you know. But say, sir, war breaking out, and we all rusted up like this! We ought to be ready for anything."

"So I thought, Ben; but my mother says there's not likely to be trouble in this out-of-the-way place."

"Then bless my dear lady's innocence! says Ben Martlet, and that's me, sir. Why, you never knows where a spark may drop and the fire begin to run."

"No, Ben."

"And if this is sure to be such a peaceful spot, why did the old Roylands build the castle and make a moat and drawbridge, and all the rest of it? They didn't mean the moat for nothing else, sir, but carp, tench, and eels."

"And pike, Ben."

"No, sir. They thought of very different kind of pikes, sir, I can tell you,—same as they I've got on the walls yonder in sheaves. But there; her ladyship gives the word to you, and you gives it to me, and I shouldn't be worth calling a soldier if I didn't do as I was ordered, and directly, too, and—Hark!"

The old soldier held up his hand.

"Horses!" cried Roy, excitedly. "Why, who's coming here?"



CHAPTER SEVEN.

NEWS FROM THE WAR.

Roy and the old soldier hurried to a slit which gave on the road, and the latter began to breathe hard with excitement as his eyes rested upon three dusty-looking horsemen, well-mounted, and from whose round-topped, spiked steel caps the sun flashed from time to time.

"Why, they're dragoons!" cried the old fellow, excitedly. "Enemies, perhaps, and we're without a drawbridge as'll pull up. Here, quick, take a sword, Master Roy. Here's mine. Let's make a show. They won't know but what there's dozens of us."

Roy followed the old soldier's commands, and, buckling on the sword, hurried with him down to the outer gate, just as the venerable old retainer slammed it to with a heavy, jarring sound, and challenged the horsemen, whom he could hardly see, to halt.

"Well done, old man!" muttered Ben. "The right stuff, Master Roy, though he is ninety-four."

"What is it?" cried Roy, as he reached the gate, where the men were dismounting and patting their weary troop-horses.

"Despatches for Lady Royland," said one, who seemed to be the leader. "Are you Master Roy, Sir Granby's son?"

"Yes. Have you come from my father?"

"Yes, sir, and made all the haste we could; but we've left two brave lads on the road."

"What! their horses broke down?"

"No, sir," said the man, significantly; "but they did."

He took off his cap as he spoke, and displayed a bandage round his forehead.

"My mate there's got his shoulder ploughed, too, by a bullet."

"Open the gates, Jenks," cried Roy.

"One moment, sir," whispered Ben. "Get the despatches and see if they're in your father's writing."

"Right," whispered back Roy. "Here!—your despatches."

"No, sir," said the man, firmly. "That's what they asked who barred the way. Sir Granby's orders were to place 'em in his lady's hands."

"Quite right," said Roy. "But show them to me and let me see my father's hand and seal."

"Yes, that's right enough, sir," said the man. "We might be enemies;" and he unstrapped a wallet slung from his right shoulder, took out a great letter tied with silk and sealed, and held it out, first on one side, then upon the other, for the boy to see.

"Yes," cried Roy, eagerly, "that's my father's writing, and it is his seal. Open the gate, Jenkin, and let them in. Why, my lads, you look worn-out."

"Not quite, sir; but we've had a rough time of it. The country's full of crop-ears, and we've had our work cut out to get here safe."

"Full of what?" said Roy, staring, as the troopers led in their horses, and he walked beside the man who bore the despatches.

"Crop-ears, sir,—Parliamentary men."

"Is it so bad as that?"

"Bad? Yes, sir."

"But my father—how is he?"

"Well and hearty when he sent us off, sir."

"Come quickly then," cried Roy, hurrying the men along to the great drawbridge, over which the horses' hoofs began to rattle loudly. But they had not gone half-way across the moat before there was the rustle of a dress in front, and, looking ghastly pale and her eyes wild with excitement, Lady Royland came hurrying to meet them.

Roy sprang to her, crying—

"Letters from father, and he is quite well!"

He caught his mother in his arms, for her eyes closed and she reeled and would have fallen; but the next minute she had recovered her composure, and held out her hand for the packet the trooper had taken from his wallet.

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "Martlet, take these poor tired fellows into the hall at once, and see that they have every attention. Set some one to feed their horses."

"Thank you, my lady," said the man, with rough courtesy, as he took off his steel cap.

"Ah, you are wounded," cried Lady Royland, with a look of horror.

"Only a scratch, my lady. My comrade here is worse than I."

"Your wounds shall be seen to at once."

"If I might speak, my lady, a place to sit down for an hour or two, and something to eat and drink, would do us more good than a doctor. We haven't had a good meal since we rode away from Whitehall and along the western road a week ago."

"Eight days and a harf, comrad'," growled one of his companions.

"Is it? Well, I haven't kept count."

"See to them at once, Martlet," said Lady Royland; and the horses were led off, while, clinging to her son's arm, the anxious wife and mother hurried into the library, threw herself into a chair, tore open the great letter, and began, wild-eyed and excited, to read, while Roy walked up and down the room with his eyes fixed longingly upon the despatch till he could bear it no longer.

"Oh, mother!" he cried, "do, do, do pray give me a little bit of the news."

"My poor boy! yes. How selfish of me. Roy, dear, there is something terribly wrong! Your dear father says he has been half-mad with anxiety, for he has sent letter after letter, and has had no news from us. So at last he determined to send his own messengers, and despatched five men to guard this letter to us—but I saw only three."

"No," said Roy, solemnly; "the roads are in the hands of the enemy, mother, and two of the poor fellows were killed on the way. Two of these three are wounded."

"Yes, yes! Horrible! I could not have thought matters were so bad as this."

"But father is quite well?"

"Yes, yes, my dear; but he says the king's state is getting desperate, and that he will have to take the field at once. But the letters I sent—that he sent, my boy?"

"They must have all fallen into the enemy's hands, mother. How bad everything must be! But pray, pray, go on. What does he say?"

Lady Royland read on in silence for a few moments, and, as she read, the pallor in her face gave way to a warm flush of excitement, while Roy, in spite of his eagerness to hear more, could not help wondering at the firmness and decision his mother displayed, an aspect which was supported by her words as she turned to her son.

"Roy," she cried, "I was obliged to read first, but you shall know everything. While we have been here in peace, it seems that a terrible revolution has broken out, and your father says that it will only be by desperate efforts on the part of his friends that the king's position can be preserved. He says that these efforts will be made, and that the king shall be saved."

"Hurrah!" shouted the boy, wildly. "God save the king!"

"God save the king!" murmured Lady Royland, softly, with her eyes closed; and her words sounded like a prayerful echo of her son's utterance.

There was a pause for a few moments, and then Lady Royland went on.

"Your father says that we lie right out of the track of the trouble here, and that he prays that nothing may disturb us; but as the country grows more unsettled with the war, evil men will arise everywhere, ready to treat the laws of the country with contempt, and that it is our duty in his absence to be prepared."

"Prepared! Yes, mother," cried Roy, excitedly; and he flung himself upon his knees, rested his elbows on his mother's lap, and seized her hands. "Go on, go on!"

"He says that you have grown a great fellow now, and that the time has come for you to play the man, and fill his place in helping me in every way possible."

"Father says that, mother?" cried the boy, flushing scarlet.

"Yes; and that he looks to you to be my counsellor, and, with the help of his faithful old servant Martlet, to do everything you can to put the place in a state of defence."

"Why, mother," said Roy, "old Ben will go mad with delight."

Lady Royland suppressed a sigh, and went on firmly.

"He bids me use my discretion to decide whom among the tenants and people of the village I can—we can—trust, Roy, and to call upon them to be ready, in case of an emergency, to come in here and help to protect the place and their own belongings; but to be very careful whom I do trust, for an enemy within the gates is a terrible danger."

"Yes, of course," cried Roy, whose head seemed once more in a whirl.

"He goes on to say that there may not be the slightest necessity for all this, but the very fact of our being prepared will overawe people who might be likely to prove disaffected, and will keep wandering bands of marauders at a distance."

"Of course—yes; I see," cried Roy, eagerly. "Yes, mother, I'll go to work at once."

"You will do nothing foolish, I know, my boy," said the mother, laying one hand upon his head and gazing proudly in his eyes.

"Nothing if I can help it," he cried; "and I'll consult you in everything, but—but—"

"Yes, my boy, speak out."

"I don't want to hurt your feelings, dear, and yet if I speak of a sword or a gun—"

Lady Royland shivered slightly, but she drew a long, deep breath, and raised herself up proudly.

"Roy," she said, "that was in times of peace, before this terrible emergency had arisen. As a woman, I shrink from bloodshed and everything that suggests it. It has been my constant dread that you, my boy, should follow your father's profession. 'My boy a soldier!' I said, as I lay sleepless of a night, and I felt that I could not bear the thought. But Heaven's will be done, my son. The time has come when my weak, womanly fears must be crushed down, and I must fulfil my duty as your dear father's wife. We cannot question his wisdom. A terrible crisis has come upon our land, and we must protect ourselves and those who will look to us for help. Then, too, your father calls upon us to try to save his estate here from pillage and the ruthless wrecking of wicked men. Roy, my boy, I hope I shall not be such a weak woman now, but your help and strengthener, as you will be mine. You will not hurt my feelings, dear, in what you do. You see," she continued, smiling, as she laid her hand upon the hilt of the sword the lad had so hastily buckled on, "I do not wince and shudder now. Fate has decided upon your career, Roy, young as you are, and I know that my son's sword, like his father's, will never be drawn unless it is to protect the weak and maintain the right."

"Never, mother," cried the boy, enthusiastically; and as Lady Royland tried to raise him, he sprang to his feet. "Oh," he cried, "I wish I were not such a boy!"

"I do not," said his mother, smiling. "You are young, and I am only a woman, but our cause will make us strong, Roy. There," she continued, embracing him lovingly, "the time has come to act. You will consult with Martlet what to do about the defences at once, while I write back to your father. When do you think the men will be fit to go back?"

"They'd go to-night, mother; they seem to be just the fellows; but their horses want two or three days' rest."

"Roy!"

"Yes, mother. It's a long journey, and they'll have to go by out-of-the-way roads to avoid attack."

"But we have horses."

"Yes, mother, but they would sooner trust their own."

Lady Royland bowed her head.

"The letters must go back by them," she said, "and they must start at the earliest minute they can. But there is another thing. It is right that Master Pawson should be taken into our counsels."

"Master Pawson, mother?"

"Yes, my boy. He is your father's trusted servant, and I must not slight any friends. Go and ask him to come here."

"Can't," said Roy, shortly. "He went out this morning, and said he didn't think he would be back to dinner."

"Indeed!"

"Gone over to see the vicar."

"Gone to Mr Meldew," said Lady Royland, whose face looked very grave. "Then it must be deferred till his return. Now, Roy, what will you do first?"

"See to the gates, mother, and that no one goes out or comes in without leave."

"Quite right, Captain Roy," said Lady Royland, smiling.

The boy looked at her wonderingly.

"My heart is more at rest, dear," she said, gently, "and that aching anxiety is at an end. Roy, we know the worst, and we must act for the best."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

BEN MEANS BUSINESS.

With his blood seeming to effervesce in his veins from the excitement he felt, Roy placed the writing-materials in front of his mother and then hurried out, crossed the drawbridge, and made for the little gate tower, where, upon hearing steps, the old retainer came out, bent of head and stooping, with one ear raised.

"Master Roy's step," he said; and as the boy came closer: "Yes, it's you, sir; just like your father's step, sir, only younger. What's the news, Master Roy?"

"Bad, Jenk,—civil war has broken out. Father is well and with his regiment, but there is great trouble in the land. I'm going to put the castle in a state of defence. Shut the gate again and keep it close. No one is to come in or out without an order from my mother or from me."

"That's right, Master Roy, sir; that's right," piped the retainer. "I'll just buckle on my sword at once. She's as sharp and bright as ever she was. Nobody shall go by. So there's to be a bit of a war, is there?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Jenk."

"Don't say afraid so, Master Roy; sounds as if you would be skeart, and your father's son couldn't be that. But nobody goes by here without your orders, sir, or my lady's, and so I tell 'em. I'm getting on a bit in years, and I can't see quite as well as I should do, not like I used; but it's the sperrit as does it, Master Roy."

"So it is, Jenk; and you've got plenty in you, haven't you?"

"Ay, ay, ay, Master Roy," quavered the old man, "plenty. Up at the house there they get talking about me as if I was so very old; but I'll let some of 'em see. Why, I want five year o' being a hundred yet, and look at what they used to be in the Scripter. I'll keep the gate fast, sir—I did this morning, didn't I, when they three dragoons come up?"

"Yes, capitally, Jenk—but I must go. I'm busy."

"That's right, sir—you go. Don't you be uneasy about the gate, sir. I'll see to that."

"Yes," said Roy to himself, "it is the spirit that does it. Now I wonder whether I've got spirit enough to do all the work before me!"

He hurried back over the drawbridge, and glanced down into the clear moat where he could see the great pike lying, but he did not stop to think about catching it, for he hurried on to the servants' hall, drawing himself up as he felt the importance of his position, and upon entering, the three troopers, who were seated at a good substantial meal, all rose and saluted their colonel's son.

"Got all you want, men?" said Roy, startling himself by his decisive way of speaking.

"Yes, sir; plenty, sir," said the man who bore the despatch. "Master Martlet saw to that."

"That's right. Now, look here, of course we want you and your horses to have a good rest, but when do you think you'll be ready to take a despatch back?"

"Take a despatch back, sir?" said the man, staring. "We're not to take anything back."

"Yes; a letter to my father."

"No, sir. Colonel Sir Granby Royland's, orders were that we were to stop here and to help take care of the castle."

"Were those my father's commands?" cried Roy, eagerly.

"Yes, sir, to all three of us—all five of us, it were, and I'm sorry I couldn't bring the other two with me; but I did my best, didn't I, lads?"

"Ay, corporal," chorused the others.

"Oh, that's capital!" cried Roy, eagerly. "It relieves me of a good deal of anxiety. But my father—he'll expect a letter back."

"No, sir; he said there was no knowing where he would be with the regiment, and we were to stay here till he sent orders for us to rejoin."

"Where is Martlet?" asked Roy then.

"Said something about an armoury," replied the corporal.

Roy hurried off, and in a few minutes found the old soldier busy with a bottle of oil and a goose feather, applying the oil to the mechanism of a row of firelocks.

"Oh, here you are, Ben," cried Roy, excitedly. "News for you, man."

"Ay, ay, sir, I've heard," said the old soldier, sadly. "More rust."

"Yes, for you to keep off. My father's orders are that the castle is to be put in a state of defence directly."

Down went the bottle on the floor, and the oil began to trickle out.

"But—but," stammered the old fellow, "what does her ladyship say?"

"That she trusts to my father's faithful old follower to work with me, and do everything possible for the defence of the place. Hurrah, Ben! God save the king!"

"Hurrah! God save the king!" roared Ben; and running to the wall he snatched a sword from where it hung, drew it, and waved it round his head. "Hah! Master Roy, you've made me feel ten years younger with those few words."

"Have I, Ben? Why, somehow all this has made me feel ten years older."

"Then you've got a bit off me that I had to spare, Master Roy, and good luck to you with it. Then," he continued, after listening with eager attention to Roy's rendering of his father's orders, "we must go to work at once, sir."

"Yes; at once, Ben."

"Then the first thing is to order the gate to be kept shut, and that no one goes out or in unless he has a pass from her ladyship or from you."

"Done, Ben. I have been to old Jenk, and he has shut the gate, and buckled on his old sword."

"Hah! hum! yes," said the old soldier, rubbing one of his ears; "that sounds very nice, Master Roy, but," he continued, with a look of perplexity, "it doesn't mean much, now, does it?"

"I don't understand you."

"Why, sir, I mean this: that if any one came up to the gate and wanted to come in—'Give the pass,' says Jenk. 'Haven't got one,' says whoever it is. 'Can't pass, then,' says Jenk, and then—"

"Well, yes, and then?" said Roy. "Why, sir, if he took a good deep breath, and then gave a puff, he'd blow poor old Jenk into the moat. He's a good old boy, and I don't want to hurt his feelings, but we can't leave things at the gate like that."

"But it would break his heart to be told he is—he—"

"Too rusty to go on, sir," said Ben, grimly. "But it would break her ladyship's heart if we didn't do our duty, and we shan't be doing that if we leave our outwork in the hands of poor old Jenk."

"What's to be done?"

"I know, sir. Tell him the gate's very important, and that he must have two men with him, and let him suppose they're under his command."

"That's it, capital!" cried Roy. "Then we must place two men there with him at once."

"Ye-e-es, sir," said Ben, drily. "But who are we to place there— ourselves?"

Roy looked hard at Ben, and Ben looked hard at Roy.

"You see, sir, we've got the castle and the weepuns, but we've no garrison. That's the first thing to see to. Why, when those three troopers have gone back with their despatch, we shall have as good as nobody."

"But they're not going back, Ben. Father's orders are that they're to stay."

"Three trained soldiers, sir, to start with!" cried Ben. "Me four, and you five. Why, that's just like five seeds out of which we can grow a little army."

"Then there are the men-servants."

"Well, sir, they're more used to washing cups and cleaning knives, and plate, and horses; but we shall have to lick 'em into shape. Let's see, there's the three men indoors, the groom, and coachman, that makes five more."

"And the two gardeners."

"Of course, sir! Why, they'll make the best of 'em all. Twelve of us."

"And Master Pawson, thirteen."

"P'ff! him!" cried Ben, with a look of contempt. "What's he going to do? Read to the sentries, sir, to keep 'em from going to sleep?"

"Oh, he'll be of some use, Ben. We mustn't despise any one."

"Right, sir; we mustn't: so as soon as he comes back—he's gone over to Parson Meldew's—"

"Yes, I know."

"You tell him to get to his books and read all he can about sword and pike wounds, and how to take a bullet out of a man when he gets hit. Then he can cut up bandages, and get ready knives and scissors and thread and big needles."

"Do you mean in case of wounds, Ben?"

"Why, of course, sir."

"But do you think it likely that we shall have some—"

"Rather queer sort of siege if we don't have some damage done, sir. Well, that settles about Master Pawson. Now, what next?"

"The men at the farm, Ben."

"Yes, sir; we ought to get about ten or a dozen. They're good stout lads. We must have them up at once and do a bit of drilling. They needn't stay here yet, but they can be got in order and ready to come in at a moment's notice. Next?"

"All the tenants must be seen, Ben. They'll all come too, and drill ready for service if wanted."

"And that means about another twenty, I suppose, sir."

"Yes, or more, Ben."

"If they're staunch, sir."

"Ah, but they would be. My father's own tenants!"

"I dunno, sir. If times are going to be like we hear, you'll find people pretty ready to go over to the strongest side."

"Oh, nonsense! There isn't a man round here who wouldn't shout for the king."

"Quite right, sir," said Ben. "I believe that."

"Then why do you throw out such nasty hints?"

"'Cause I've got my doubts, sir. Lots on 'em'll shout for the king, but if it comes to the pinch and things are going wrong, I want to know how many will fight for the king."

"Every true man, Ben."

"Azackly, sir; but, you see, there's a orful lot o' liars in the world. But we shall see."

"Well, we've got to keep the castle, Ben."

"We have, sir, and keep it we will, till everybody's about wounded or dead, and the enemy comes swarming and cheering in, and then they shan't have it."

"Why, they'll have got it, Ben," said Roy, laughing, but rather uncomfortably, for the man's words as to the future did not sound pleasant.

"Ay, and I shall take it away from 'em, sir; for if the worst comes to the worst, I shall have made all my plans before, and I'll do a bit o' Guy Fawkesing."

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I should ha' thought you'd ha' understood that, sir."

"Of course I do; but how could you blow up the castle?"

"By laying a train to the powder-magazine, knocking the heads out of a couple o' kegs, and then up it goes."

"Powder—magazine—kegs?" cried Roy. "Why, we haven't one, and I wanted to talk to you about getting some. How's it to be done?"

"By going to your father's lib'ry, sir, and opening the little drawer as he keeps locked up in the big oak table. There's the keys there."

"Yes, of the wine-cellars, Ben; but no—Oh, absurd!"

"Is it, my lad? I think not. Think it's likely as your grandfather and his father would have had swords and pikes and armour, and big guns and little guns, and not had no powder to load 'em with?"

"Well, it doesn't sound likely, Ben; but I'm sure we have none here."

"Well, sir, begging your pardon for contradicting my master, I'm sure as we have."

"Down in the cellars?"

"Down in one of 'em, sir."

"But I never knew."

"Perhaps not, sir; but I've been down there with your father, and I don't suppose it's a thing he'd talk about. Anyhow, there it is, shut up behind three doors, and I'll be bound to say dry as a bone. It's very old, but good enough, may be. All the same, though, Master Roy, the sooner we try what it's like the better, and if you'll take my advice you'll have one of the big guns loaded and fired with a good round charge. That'll try the gun, scale it out, and give 'em a hint for miles round that, though Sir Granby's gone to the wars, his son's at home, and his dame too, and that they don't mean to stand any nonsense from a set o' crop-eared rascals. That'll do more good, Master Roy, than a deal o' talking, and be less trouble."

"We must do it at once, Ben," said Roy, decidedly.

"The first thing, sir; and, by the way, as we're going to begin to get our garrison together, it'll be as well to make a little show. If I was you, I'd put on a pair of buff boots, wear a sword and a sash always, and I don't say put on a lot of armour, but if you'll let me, I'll take the gorget off that suit of Italian armour, and you can wear that."

"But it will look so—" said Roy, flushing.

"Yes, sir; but we've got to look so," said the old soldier, decidedly. "It makes people respect you; and if you'll be good enough to give me my orders, I'll take to a buff coat and steel cap at once."

"Very well, do so," said Roy. "But I will not promise to make any show myself."

"But you must, sir, please, for her ladyship's sake. Look here, Master Roy, you'll be calling the tenants and labourers together, and you'll have to make them a speech."

"Shall I?" said Roy, nervously.

"Why, of course, sir, telling 'em what their duty is, and calling upon 'em to fight for their king, their country, and their homes. Yes, that's it, sir; that's just what you've got to say."

"Well, Ben, if I must, I must."

"Then must it is, sir; but if they come here to the castle, and you're like you are now, they'll be only half warmed up, and say that Master Roy can talk, and some of 'em'll sneer and snigger; but if you come out when they're all here, looking like your father's son in a cavalier hat and feathers, with the gorget on, and the king's colours for a sash, ay, and buff boots and spurs—"

"Oh, no, not spurs when I'm walking," protested Roy.

"Yes, sir, spurs,—a big pair with gilt rowels, as'll clink-clink with every step you take; they'll set up a cheer, and swear to fight for you, when you've done, to the death. And look here, Master Roy, when you've done speaking, you just wave your hat, and chuck it up in the air, as if fine felts and ostridge feathers weren't nothing to you, who called upon 'em all to fight for the king."

Roy drew a deep sigh, for his follower's words had nearly made him breathless.

"We shall see," he sighed.

"Yes, sir, we shall see," cried Ben. "So now, if you please, sir, I won't wait to be getting into my buff jerkin now, but I'll take your orders for what we're to do first."

"Yes, Ben; what ought we to do first?"

"Well, sir, it's you as know. You said something about strengthening the guard at the gate."

"Oh, but I say, Ben, that was you said so."

"Only as your mouthpiece, sir."

"But it sounds silly to talk about strengthening the guard at the gate when we've only got old Jenk, and no regular sentry to put there."

"Never you mind about how it sounds, sir, so long as it's sense," cried Ben, striking his fist into his left palm. "We've got to make our garrison and our sentries out of the raw stuff, and the sooner we begin to sound silly now the better. It won't be silly for any one who comes and finds a staunch man there, who would sooner send a musketoon bullet through him than let him pass."

"No, Ben, it will not, certainly. Whom shall I send?"

"Well, sir, if I was you, I'd do it as I meant to go on. You give me my orders, and I'll go and enlist Sam Rogers in the stable at once, bring him here fierce-like into the armoury; put him on a buff coat, buckle on a sword, and give him his bandoleer and firelock, and march him down with sword drawn to relieve guard with old Jenk."

"But he'll be cleaning the troopers' horses, and begin to laugh."

"Sam Rogers, sir? Not him. He'll come like a lamb; and when I marches him down to the gate, he'll go out like a lion, holding his head up with the steel cap on, and be hoping that all the servant-girls and the cook are watching him. Don't you be afraid of him laughing. All I'm afraid of is, that while he's so fresh he'll be playing up some games with his firelock, and mocking poor old Jenk."

"Pray, warn him, then."

"You trust me, sir. Then, when that's done, perhaps you'll give the orders to find quarters for our new men, and tell 'em that they're to rest till to-morrow by your orders; and after that there's the drawbridge and portcullis."

"Yes; what about them?"

"Why, sir, you know how they've been for years. You must have 'em seen to at once; and, if I was you, I'd have the portcullis seen to first, and the little sally-port door in the corner of the tower. We shall want half a dozen men. I'm a bit afraid of the old bars and rollers, but we shall see."

"Order the men to come, then, when you've done, and let us see, and get everything right as soon as possible."

Ben saluted in military fashion, and marched off to the hall, where Roy heard him speak in a cheering, authoritative voice to the new-comers, and then came out to march across to the stables, which were in the basement of the east side of the castle, with their entrance between the building and the court; but the gate-way that had opened into the court-yard had been partly closed up when that was turned into a flower-garden, and the archway was now covered with ivy.

Roy went up to one of the corridors beneath the ramparts, and watched, out of curiosity, to see how the groom would take his new orders.

He was not long kept in suspense, for the sturdy young fellow came out talking eagerly with Ben and turning down his sleeves. Then they went inside, through the great gate-way to the armoury, and in an incredibly short space of time came out together, the groom in steel jockey-shaped cap with a spike on the top, buff coat, sword, and bandoleer, and shouldering the clumsy firelock of the period.

As they reached the archway, Ben stopped short, drew his sword, said a few words in a sharp tone, and marched off, with Sam Rogers keeping step; while a muttering of voices told of how strangely matters had turned out according to old Ben's prophecy, for, on turning to see what it meant, Roy saw down through one of the narrow windows that the whole of the household had turned out to do likewise. But there was no giggling and laughing, for the women seemed to be impressed, and the men-servants were shaking their heads and talking together earnestly about the evil times that had come.

Another sound made Roy turn sharply in the other direction to see his mother approaching.

"Then you have begun, my son," she said, gravely.

"Yes, mother. The sentry was set, after a long talk with Martlet."

"You need not speak in that apologetic tone, my boy," said Lady Royland, quietly. "I see the necessity, and I am sure you are doing well. Now, come and tell me more of your plans."

She led the way to the library, and as they entered Roy glanced towards the big oak table standing at one end; his eyes fixed themselves upon the small drawer, and he seemed to see a rusty old key lying there, one whose wards were shaping themselves plainly before his eyes, as he told of his arrangements with the old soldier.

"Yes, you have begun well, Roy," said Lady Royland at last. "And what Martlet says is quite true."

"But you would not dress up as he advises, mother?" protested Roy, rather bashfully.

"Dress up? No, my boy; but I would put on such things as a cavalier and an officer would wear under such circumstances,—a gorget, sword, boots, hat and feathers, and the king's colours as a scarf. Why, Roy, your father would wear those in addition to his scarlet coat."

"Yes, mother; but he is a soldier."

"So are you now, Roy," said the dame, proudly. "And so must every man be who loves his king and country. Martlet is quite right, and I shall prepare your scarf and feathers with my own hands."

"Why, mother," cried the boy, wonderingly, "how you have changed since even a short time ago."

"So has our position, Roy, my son," she said, firmly. "Who's there?"

The butler entered.

"Benjamin Martlet would be glad, my lady, if Master Roy would come and give him his instructions, and, if you please, my lady, he wishes me to help."

"And you will, I am sure, Grey?"

"Oh, yes, my lady," said the man, eagerly; "but I was afraid your ladyship might be wanting something, and no one to answer the bell."

"I want my servants, Grey, to help me to protect their master's interests while he is forced to be away in the service of the king. Can I count upon that help?"

"Yes, my lady, to a man," cried the old servant, eagerly.

"I thought so," said Lady Royland, smiling proudly. "You will go, then, Roy, and see what Martlet is to do."

Roy was already at the door, and five minutes later he was standing in the gate-way with every man employed about the place, the three troopers being fast asleep, exhausted by their long journey down from town.



CHAPTER NINE.

PORTCULLIS AND BRIDGE.

As Roy appeared, there was a low buzz of voices, and directly after the butler cried, "Three cheers for the young master!" with a hearty result.

Just then Ben came close up to say, confidentially—

"I made it all comfortable with poor old Jenk, sir."

"That's right; and Sam Rogers?"

"Proud's a dog with two tails, sir. Now, sir, if you'll give the orders, we'll go up and see what can be done about making the place safe, and I'm afraid we're going to have a job."

Roy felt a slight sensation of shrinking, but he mastered it, and calling to the men to follow him, he turned in by the low arched door-way, and ascended to the first chamber of the gate tower, to pause where the great iron grating hung before him in its stone grooves formed in the wall, and with its spikes descending through the slit on the floor, below which the stone paving of the entrance could be seen.

To make sure of its not descending by any accident of the chains giving, three massive pieces of squared oak had been thrust through as many of the openings at the bottom, so that the portcullis rested upon them as these crossed the long narrow slit through which it descended, and a little examination showed that if the chains were tightened by turning the two capstans by means of the bars, and the chains drawn a little over the great wheels fixed in the ceiling, it would be easy enough to withdraw the three supports and let the grating down.

"Chains look terribly rusty," said Roy. "Think they'll bear it, Ben?"

"They're rusty, sir, and a good deal eaten away; but they used to put good work into these sort o' things, because if they hadn't, they'd have come down and killed some one. Shall we try?"

"Yes; no one can be hurt if a watch is kept below. Go down, one of you, and see that no one passes under."

One of the men ran down, the old capstan-bars were taken from the corners, and two men on each side inserted them into the holes, and waited for the order to tighten the chains round the rollers.

"Ready? All together!" cried Roy; and the men pulled the bars towards them with a will, the chains tightened, the pulleys creaked and groaned, and the grating rose an inch or two, sufficient for the pieces of oak crossing the narrow slit to have been drawn out, when crack—crack— two of the bars the men handled snapped short off, and their holders fell, while the portcullis sank back to its old place with a heavy jar.

"Hundred years, perhaps, since they've been used," said Roy. "Any one hurt?"

"No, sir," said the men, laughing in spite of a bruise or two; and the bars being examined, it was found that the tough oak of which they were composed was completely honeycombed by worms, and powdered away to dust.

"First job, then, sir, to make new bars," said Ben, promptly.

"Yes; we'll have the carpenters in from the village directly, Ben. With these pulleys well greased, I suppose this will work."

"Ay, sir, no doubt about that; it's the drawbridge I'm afraid of," said Ben.

"Let's go up and see, then."

Roy led the way again, and the men followed into the dark chamber above, where the old furnace stood, and in the corners on either side of the narrow window, with its hollowed-out notches for firing or using cross-bows from, were two great round chimney-like constructions built in the stone, up and down which huge weights, which depended from massive chains and passed over great rollers, had formerly been used to glide.

Ben shook his head as he put his hand upon one of the weights, which were formed of so many discs of cast lead, through the centre of which the great chain passed, a solid bar of iron being driven through a link below to keep them from sliding off.

The weights hung about breast-high; and at the slight pressure of the man's hand began to swing to and fro in the stone place open to the chamber, but closed below where they ran down in the wall at the sides of the gate-way.

"Well, these must have been worked by hand, Ben," said Roy. "Men must have stood here and run them down. Two of you go to the other side, and all press down together, but stand ready to jump back in case anything breaks. I don't see how you can be hurt if you do."

"No, sir; no one can't be hurt, for the weights will only go down these holes with a bang."

"Try, then. Now, all together—pull!"

The men tugged and strained, but there was no sign of yielding, and Ben shook his head.

"Rollers must be rusted, sir, and stick."

But upon his climbing up to examine them, it proved that these had not been made to turn, only for the chains to slide over them, as the grooves worn in the iron showed.

"Nothing to stop 'em here, sir," said the man.

"Then it must be set fast at the end of the bridge," said Roy; and, descending with the men, they crossed the moat and found the bridge completely wedged and fixed in the opening of stone which embraced the end.

Picks and crowbars were fetched, the stones and sand scraped out, and when the place was cleared they reascended to the furnace-chamber, when, upon another trial being made, it was found that the weights so accurately balanced the bridge that with very little exertion the chains came screeching and groaning over the iron rollers, and the men gave a cheer as the end rose up and up till it was drawn very nearly up to the face of the tower.

Ben rubbed his ear and grinned with satisfaction.

"Come, sir," he said, "we can make ourselves pretty safe that way; but I'm afraid the moat's so filled up that a man can wade across."

"That he can't," cried one of the gardeners. "I've plumbed it all over, and there aren't a place less nor seven or eight feet deep, without counting the mud."

"Then you've been fishing!" thought Roy, but he did not say so, only gave orders for the bridge to be lowered again, and sent a man for a supply of grease to well lubricate the rollers and chains.

Down went the bridge, in a most unmusical way, and as soon as it was in its place once more, a man was sent across for the village carpenter to come with his tools, there being plenty of good seasoned oak-wood stored up in the buildings.

Then a consultation ensued. They had the means of cutting themselves off from the outer world, and in a short time the portcullis would add to the strength of their defences.

"What's next, Ben?" said Roy.

"I'm a-thinking, sir. We've done a lot already, but there's so much more to do that things get a bit jumbled like in my head. We've got to get our garrison, and then there's two very important things—wittles and water!"

"The well supplies that last," said Roy; "and if we were running short, we could use the water from the moat for everything but food."

"Yes, sir, that's good. Cart must go to the mill, and bring all the corn and flour that can be got. Then we must have some beasts and sheep from the farm."

"That's bad," said Roy, "because they'll want feeding."

"Have to be driven out every morning, sir, till we're besieged. Must have some cows in too, so that if we are beset we can be independent. But first of all, sir, we ought to see to the powder and the guns. But you and me must see to the powder ourselves. We shall want some help over the guns, and I'm thinking as you'd best make that carpenter stay. The wheels are off one or two of the gun-carriages, and there's no rammers or sponges; and I shouldn't wonder if the carriages as I painted over and pitched are only so many worm-eaten shells."

"Well, all these things will have to be got over by degrees, Ben. We have done the first great things towards making the castle safe, and an enemy need not know how unprepared we are."

"I don't know so much about being safe, sir."

"What, not with the drawbridge up?"

"No, sir," said Ben, in a low tone. "But suppose you sends the men to dinner now, and orders 'em to meet in a hour's time in the court-yard— oh dear, oh dear! that's all garden now."

"You can make room for the men to meet without disturbing the garden," said Roy, sharply.

"Very well, sir; you're master. Will you give your orders?"

Roy gave them promptly, and the men walked away.

"Now, then," said Roy, "what did you mean about the place not being safe? With the bridge up, they could only cross to us by rafts or boats, and then they couldn't get in."

"Well, sir, it's like this. I've heard tell, though I'd forgotten all about it till just now, as there's a sort o' passage goes out from the dungeons under the nor'-west tower over to the little ruins on the hill over yonder."

"Impossible! Why, it would have to be half a mile long, Ben."

"All that, sir."

"But it couldn't go under the moat. It would be full of water."

"Nay, not if it was made tight, sir."

"But what makes you say that? You've never seen the passage?"

"No, sir, I've never been down, but your father once said something about it. It was a long time before that tower was done up and made right for Master Pawson. I don't recollect much about it, but I suppose it must be there."

"That's another thing to see to, then," said Roy. "Because, if it does exist, and the enemy heard of it, he might come in and surprise us. I know; we'll find it, and block it up."

"Nay, I wouldn't do that, sir. It might be that we should have to go away, and it isn't a bad thing to have a way out in case of danger."

"Not likely to do that, Ben," said Roy, haughtily. "We are going to hold the place."

"Yes, sir, as long as we can; but we can't do impossibilities. Now, sir, will you go and have your bit o' dinner, while I have mine?"

"Oh, I don't feel as if I could eat, Ben; I'm too full of excitement."

"More reason why you should go and have your dinner, sir. Man can't fight without he eats and drinks."

"Nor a boy, neither—eh, Ben?"

"That's so, sir; only I wouldn't be talking before the men about being only a boy. You leave them to say it if they like. But they won't; they'll judge you by what you do, sir; and if you act like a man, they'll look at you as being the one in command of them, and behave like it."

"Very well, I'll go to dinner, and in an hour meet you here."

"Fifty minutes, sir. It's a good ten minutes since the men went in."

Roy joined his mother, feeling, as he said, too full of excitement to eat; but he found the meal ready, with one of the maids in attendance, and everything so calm and quiet, that, as they sat chatting, it seemed as if all this excitement were as unsubstantial as the distant rumours of war; while, when the meal was at an end, his mother's words tended to lend some of her calm to his excited brain.

"I have been hearing of all that you have done, Roy," she said. "It is excellent; but do not hurry. I cannot afford to have you ill."

That was a fresh idea, and the consequences of such a trouble too horrible to be contemplated; but it made Roy determine to take things more coolly, and in this spirit he went to where the servants were assembled in the gate-way, and joined his trusty lieutenant, who had just drawn them up in line.



CHAPTER TEN.

ROY VISITS THE POWDER-MAGAZINE.

"Now, Ben, what next?"

"The thing I've been thinking, sir, is that, little as it be, we must make the most of our garrison. It's war time now, and if you'll give the order I'll march the men to the armoury and serve out the weepuns and clothes."

Roy nodded, gave the word for the men to march, counter-ordered it, at a hint from Ben, and then, telling them to face right, put himself at their head, and marched them to the long, low room at once.

Ben began to serve out the buff jerkins and steel caps.

"Can't stop for no trying on now," he said; "you must do as we used in the army,—change about till you get them as fits you."

This done, the firelocks and bandoleers followed, and, lastly, to each man a belt and sword.

And all the time the old soldier handed every article to the recipient with a grave dignity and a solemnity of manner which seemed to say, "I am giving treasures to you that I part from with the greatest regret," and he finished with—

"Now, my lads, look here: it's a great honour to bear arms in the service of your king, and if you're carrying Sir Granby Royland's arms you're carrying the king's, so take care of 'em. A good soldier wouldn't have a speck of rust on his helmet or his sword; they're as bright as I can make 'em now, and as sharp, so mind they're always so. Now go to your new quarters and put 'em on—proper, mind; and your master, the captain here, will have a parade in an hour's time."

The men went off, leaving Roy wondering at the calmness with which he stood by listening while old Ben talked to the men and kept on referring to him as "your master."

Ben now turned to him. "What do you say, sir?" he said. "Don't you think we had better go down and see if all's right in the powder-magazine?"

"But it's in the cellar, Ben, and you'd want a light."

"Hardly fair, sir, to call it the cellar. I believe it's one of the old dungeons where they used to shut people up in the good old times."

"That would be darker still, Ben. How are we to see?"

"Have to feel, sir; for I don't fancy taking down a lantern. Once we get there and the place open, we can go round and tell with our hands how many kegs there are on the shelves, and then if we bring one out and try it, and it turns out all right, we shall know we're safe."

"Very well: it isn't a nice job; but, if it has to be done, we'd better get it over."

"As you say, sir, it aren't a nice job; but, if we're very careful, I don't see as we can come to much harm; so, if you'll get the keys, sir, we'll go at once."

Roy nodded, and went in without a word, to find his mother seated in the library writing.

"What is it, my boy?" she said. "What do you want?"

Roy hesitated for a moment, and then said, rather huskily, "The keys. Ben and I are going down into the magazine."

Lady Royland looked at him in a wondering way.

"The magazine? Do you mean the store-room?"

"No; the powder-magazine."

She started now, and looked anxious.

"I had almost forgotten its existence, Roy. But is it necessary? It may be dangerous to go into such a place."

"We shall take care, mother, and have no light. It is necessary, Ben says, for we must be provided with gunpowder, and he wants to try whether it is good, because it must be very old."

"Very old, my boy. Probably older than your grandfather's day. I hardly like you to go upon such an errand."

"But if I'm to be captain, mother, and look after the place, I can't go back and tell Ben that. It would look so weak."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Lady Royland, making an effort to be calm and firm. "But you will be very careful, Roy."

"You may trust me, mother," he said; and she drew the keys, with a sigh, from the drawer in the old table, and handed them to her son, who took them and returned to his lieutenant.

"Here they are, Ben," said Roy, quietly. "Ready?"

"Yes, sir, I'm ready. I want to be satisfied about that powder, because it means so much to us, for I'm sure I don't know how we could get any more in times like these. You might send an order to London or one of the places in Kent where they make it, but I should never expect to see it come down here. Well, we won't waste time; so come along."

Taking off his sword, and signing to Roy to do the same, he led the way to the flight of spiral steps in the base of the south-east tower, but, instead of going up, followed it down to where there was a low arched door on their left and an opening on their right.

"Long time since any one's been in that old dungeon, Master Roy. Hundred years, I dare say. Maybe we shall be putting some one in, one of these days!"

"In there? Whom? What for?"

"Prisoners, sir, for fighting against the king." The old fellow laughed, and went along through the opening on their right, which proved to be an arched passage very dimly lit by a series of little pipe-like holes sloping inward through the outer wall of the castle and opening about a foot above the moat. On their aft were doors of a row of cellars built beneath the old court-yard; and as Ben walked onward he said—

"Who'd think as there were green grass and flower-beds up above them, Master Roy? But we do see changes in this life. Halt! here we are."

He stopped at the end of the passage, where there was a massive oak door-way facing them beneath a curious old Norman arch, and, after trying hard with three different keys, the rusty wards of the old lock allowed one to turn, and the door was pushed wide open, creaking back against the wall.

"Rather dark, sir," said Ben. "Get on a deal better with a candle; but it wouldn't do."

Roy peered in, and, as his eyes grew more accustomed to the obscurity, he made out that he was gazing into a small stone chamber; but there was no sign of chest or keg, or door leading onward.

"Why, the place is empty, Ben," said the boy, with a sigh of relief.

"We don't know that yet, sir, because we haven't seen it," said Ben, quietly. "This is only the way to the magazine. People in the old days knew what dangerous tackle it was, and took care of it according. But it's going to be a dark job, and no mistake."

The old soldier stepped in, and, stooping down in the middle of the blank stone chamber, took hold of a large copper ring and drew up one side of a heavy flagstone, which turned silently upon copper pivots, and this flag he laid back till it was supported by the ring.

"Looks darker down there, sir," said Ben, as Roy stood beside him and they tried to pierce the gloom, but only for the latter to make out the dim outline of a stone step or two.

"You've been down here before, of course?" whispered Roy, as if the place impressed him.

"Yes, sir; once. There's a door at the bottom, and that's the magazine. It will be all feeling, sir. Will you go back while I try and get a keg?"

"No," said Roy, firmly, but with an intense desire to say yes. "I shall stay while you go down. There can be no danger if you have no light."

"Unless the rusty key strikes a light, sir."

"Oh, that's impossible," whispered Roy.

"I suppose I'd better pull off my boots before I go down; it'll perhaps be safer."

He seated himself on the floor and pulled them off, Roy standing up, leaning against the wall, and doing the same.

"What's that for?" said Ben.

"Coming with you. I want to know what the place is like."

"Oh, there's no need for two of us to go, sir. One's enough."

Roy said nothing, but followed the old fellow down eight stone steps, and then they stood together against a door, which felt to the touch to be very strongly made of stone, while, after a little searching about for a keyhole, Ben said, with a grunt—

"Forgot! There aren't no key to this. It's fastened with these two wooden bars."

"I thought they were part of the door, Ben," said Roy, in the same suppressed tone.

"So did I, sir, at first. I ought to have remembered, and I think I do now. Yes! that's the way; they turn on pins in the middle like wooden buttons, and you turns one up and the other down out of the notches they fit in, and then push the door, which has stone hinges."

As he spoke, Ben turned the two great wooden bars, and then pressed upon the door.

"Hope the stones won't strike a light, sir," said Ben, in a low growl.

Roy felt as if a hand had suddenly compressed his heart, and he peered wildly through the door-way, half expecting to see a tiny spark or two, as a dull, grating sound arose; but the only sparks the door made were those glittering in his own eyes, and he drew a deeper, harder breath as the door ceased to move.

"Now, we've got to be careful, or we shall be hitting against one another, sir! Let me see: there's one step down, and then you're in a place like a dairy, with two sets of stone shelves,—one just above the floor, to keep it out of the damp; the other just about as high as a man's breast,—and there's kegs of powder piled-up on them all. You stand still, and I'll go in."

"No; let me," said Roy, though why he said this puzzled the boy himself, when the exciting minutes had passed.

"Well, sir, you're master, and if you'd rather, of course you can. But I don't mind going if you like."

"I'll go," said Roy, huskily, and, stretching out his hands in the now profound darkness, he felt for and touched the side of the entrance, then made a step forward to place his stockinged foot down upon the cold stone floor, which struck up like ice. Bringing forward his second foot, he reached out for the side of the vault, and found the place just as his companion had described, for his hands came in contact with small wooden barrels, neatly piled one upon the other on a great stone shelf, beneath which was another shelf laden in a similar way.

"Feel anything, sir?" said Ben, from the entrance.

"Yes: barrels, numbers of them," said Roy, huskily, his voice sounding a mere whisper in the darkness. "They go on—yes, to here. It is only a small vault."

"Yes, sir, but big enough. Try the other side now."

Three steps took Roy there, and his hands touched barrels again piled-up in the same way, and he whispered his experience.

"That's it, sir; just what I thought. But what we want to know now is, are they full? Would you mind lifting one, or shall I come and do it?"

Roy shuddered a little, but he did not shrink. Stretching out his hands, he took a careful hold of one of the kegs, raised it to find it fairly heavy, and then replaced it.

"Try another, sir."

Roy felt less compunction in lifting the second, and this being replaced, he began to sound others with his knuckles, to find that they all gave forth the same dull dead note.

"That's all we want to know down here, Master Roy," said the old soldier at last; "and now I think we'd better get back and take a couple of the little kegs with us. I'd take one from each side, sir. You pass 'em to me and I'll carry 'em up safely. It wouldn't do to drop one in case it should go off."

These words, lightly spoken, made Roy thrill as he lifted down one of the kegs, getting his fingers tightly fitted to the ends, and then stood there in the black darkness, afraid to stir for fear he should strike his elbow against anything and jerk the keg to the floor.

"Got him, sir?"

"Yes," said Roy, hoarsely. "Whereabouts are you?"

"Here, just at the door, sir; I haven't moved," was the reply.

"Reach out your hands, then, and take hold very carefully. Tell me when you've got it tight."

"Tight hold," said Ben, the next moment.

"Sure?"

"Yes, sir; let it go, and I'll carry it up."

Roy quitted his hold of the keg unwillingly, and his heart beat violently as he listened to the soft pat, pat, of his companion's feet, and thought of the consequences of a fall. Possibly one vivid flash and the whole place destroyed; and yet for years they had all been living so close to this terribly destructive power.

"If Ben should drop that keg!"

But Ben only set it down quietly a short distance from the top of the steps and descended.

"T'other one, sir, please," he said; and Roy placed this in the man's hands with the same shrinking feeling of reluctance.

It was carried up, and Roy stepped out, drawing the door after him, and after a few trials managing to close the two bars which secured the place.

"Don't want no help there, sir?"

"No; I have done it," was the reply; and Roy ascended the steps and waited for his companion to close the stone trap.

"Not a bad hole this to shut any one up in if we ever wanted to get rid of him, eh? He'd have to shout pretty hard to make any one hear."

"Don't talk; let's get away from the dreadful place," said Roy, whose face was wet with perspiration. "Can you carry both kegs?"

"Half a dozen if you'd range 'em, sir," replied Ben.

"Then I'll fasten the doors after us; and, mind this, the magazine must always be most carefully locked up."

"You trust me for that, sir!" replied Ben. "I know too well what powder can do to try any tricks or trust anybody with it but myself. Why, do you know, sir, what would happen if I gave a fellow like Tom Rogers a keg to carry?"

"No; how can I tell?" said Roy, shortly.

"Well, I can, sir: he'd set it up on end, sit upon it, and take out a flint and steel to light his pipe as like as not."

"Don't talk any more, please, Ben," said the boy as he proceeded to lock one of the doors.

"No, sir; I only did it so as to keep you from thinking about what we've been doing. I suppose one would get used to it, but it does seem to me rather ugly work even to an old soldier."

"Where are we to put these two kegs?" said Roy.

"In the big closet in the armoury, sir," replied Ben. "Don't you fidget about them; they shall be all right, for that's my part of the place, and nobody goes in there without my leave."

"It's impossible to help feeling a little uncomfortable about them, Ben, but I know you'll take care."

"I just think I will, sir. I'm very particular about no harm coming to Sergeant Benjamin Martlet; and as to doing anything that might mean risks for my lady—but there, I needn't say nothing about that. You can come and see me put 'em away."

Roy insisted upon carrying one of the kegs, in spite of the old soldier's opposition, not to relieve him of the load, but as a lesson to himself in the art of getting used to the dangerous composition. In addition, it had occurred to him that he should have to be present when the barrels were opened, and the gun or guns fired to test their utility and strength after lying by for so many years. Roy had never even heard a big gun fired, and he told himself that it would not do for him to display the slightest dread before the men.

Consequently he hid his nervousness, and helped to deposit the kegs in the great cupboard which contained Ben's tools and cleaning apparatus.

"There!" said that individual, "as soon as we've had our parade, and dismissed the troops, we'll see to that powder, and find out what it's like."

He thrust the key into his pocket, buckled on his sword again, and, drawing himself up, asked the "captain" to lead the way to the entrance gate.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

MASTER PAWSON GIVES HIS OPINIONS.

"You're quite turning everything into military style, Ben," said Roy, as they left the armoury.

"Yes, sir; nothing like it. Keep the men up to the mark."

"But isn't it comic to speak of the people as the troops?"

"No, sir; not a bit. Troops are troops whether there's many or few. It's serious work is fighting, and, with due respect to you, sir, there's nothing comic in treating our new levies as if they were seasoned men."

All the same, though, Roy felt that he could not agree with his companion, when they reached the great gate-way, now, for the time being, made the parade ground. To his eyes the aspect of the place was decidedly comic, and his first impulse upon seeing the familiar figures of butler, footman, grooms, and gardeners, looking stiff and awkward in their heavy buff coats, creased and angular for want of use, was to burst out laughing.

But he did not even smile, for he could see that the men were glancing at him consciously, and he knew that any such display of mirth at their personal appearance would have had a most disastrous effect. As it was, he behaved very wisely, for when Ben shouted out an order for them to fall into line, Roy advanced to the men at once with a few encouraging remarks.

"The accoutrements and things have been lying by so long," he said, "that they must be very uncomfortable and stiff."

"Yes, sir, they really are," said the butler, shaking his head. "You feel as if you can't move in them; and my steel cap is terribly heavy."

"You'll find them grow more easy to wear after a bit," said Roy, at a venture. "I see you are pretty well fitted, and—What's that, Ben?"

For voices came from the gate-way beyond the drawbridge, a hundred yards from where they were standing.

"I'll see, sir," said Ben, importantly, as he drew himself to the salute. "Beg pardon, sir," he added in a low tone; "be better now if you'd make everything soldierly and speak to me as sergeant. Don't see why my old rank shouldn't tell now, and it will help me with the three troopers, for one of 'em's a corporal."

Roy nodded, and directly after followed his sergeant, for he began to have an inkling of what was going on.

As he crossed the drawbridge, it was in time to hear Master Pawson say, in his high-pitched voice and in a tone of anger that was quite new—

"Oh, there you are, Martlet! What is the meaning of all this folly? Rogers dressed up, and telling me I can't come in without an order from her ladyship."

"Quite right, sir," said Ben, steadily; "only he didn't know he was to let in any one belonging to the place."

"But what does it mean? I've been out since morning, and I return to find the gate locked, and a man playing at being a sentry. Why, Roy, my dear boy, surely this is not some bad joke of yours?"

"Unfasten the gate, Rogers, and let Master Pawson in," said Roy, with his face turning scarlet; and, seeing his look of confusion, the secretary continued—

"Oh, I see; it is playing at soldiers. And gracious me! who are those under the gate-way? Surely troops have not arrived in my absence. My dear Roy, surely her ladyship does not countenance this? It is too absurd."

Annoyance made the boy feel indignant, and he knew that those near him expected him to speak on their behalf.

"It is not absurd, Master Pawson," he replied, sharply. "The castle is being placed under military rule now, and will be put in a state of defence as soon as possible."

"That's so!" growled Ben, whose face was black as a thunder-cloud.

Master Pawson gave him a quick look, but he did not speak to him, but to Roy.

"A state of defence!" he said, in a tone of raillery; "what nonsense! and pray, why?"

"On account of the troubled times, sir."

"Troubled times! What troubled times?"

"Surely you know, sir, who have been bringing my mother news of the revolution."

Master Pawson's eyes opened a little more widely, for he was astonished. The boy addressing him seemed no longer the quiet, sport-loving pupil who came up into the tower to read with him and listen patiently while he played on his violoncello, but one who had suddenly been transformed.

"Ah, you mean the tidings of those people who object to some of the king's orders? But really that has nothing to do with us out here in this quiet, retired place. And you are making it an excuse for all this folly? For shame, Roy! Dressing up the servants, and putting on a sword! Go and take it off, boy, and do not make yourself ridiculous."

Ben glanced at his young master, whose face was redder than ever, and waited impatiently for him to speak, while Master Pawson turned towards his pupil smilingly, extending one hand to lay upon his shoulder, the other to lay hold of his sword.

"There is nothing absurd or nonsensical about it, Master Pawson," he said, firmly. "As I have told you, the castle will be put in a state of defence."

"You mean repair, my dear boy," said the secretary, mockingly.

"Yes, repair if you will, as to the weak parts, sir. And as to playing at soldiers, we may look a little awkward at first, as we are not used to our weapons and arms; but that will soon pass off, and you will have to join us, and do your best."

"That's so!" growled Ben, whose face began to lighten up a little as Roy spoke out so firmly.

Master Pawson turned upon the old soldier with his eyebrows raised in a look of surprise.

"My good man," he said, "will you please to recollect your position here."

Ben saluted, and drew himself up as stiff as a pike.

"Nonsense, my dear boy!" continued Master Pawson; "this is all foolish vanity, and I am sure that, when you have thought it over coolly, you will see that it is childish for you, a boy, to imagine that you can do any good by making this silly display. Why, you must have been reading some old book of chivalry and warlike adventure. If you only knew how ridiculous you look with that long sword buckled on, you would soon take it off. You look almost as absurd as Rogers here; I thought some scarecrow had been stuck up by the gate."

"Yes, sir; that's right," growled Ben. "Scarecrows who were going to scare off all the crows as try to peck at his majesty the king."

"Silence, Martlet!" cried Roy, sharply. "It is not your place to speak to Master Pawson like that."

"I should think not," said the secretary, with his face flushing slightly.

"Beg pardon, sir, a slip: not mutiny," said Ben.

"No, but insolence on the part of a menial," cried Master Pawson; "and if it is repeated, I shall ask Lady Royland to dismiss you, sir, at once."

"And my mother would refuse to dismiss so old and faithful a servant," said Roy, warmly.

The secretary looked at the boy wonderingly again, and his eyes darkened; but he smiled the next moment.

"Come, come, Roy!" he said. "Pray leave off this nonsense, and have the gate left open. Send the men back to their work. You will thank me for giving you this advice to-morrow."

"No, Master Pawson, I shall not," said Roy, firmly. "The gate will be kept locked; no one will be allowed to pass without the word, and to-night the drawbridge will be raised; by to-morrow, I dare say, we shall be able to lower the portcullis."

"Are you mad, my boy?"

"I hope not, sir."

"Do you mean to tell me that you will not listen to my advice?"

"Yes, sir; I cannot."

"Then, my good lad, I must be severe. I have tried gentle means. As your tutor, in whose charge you have been left by your father, I command you to give up all this silly mummery. You have something better to do than to waste time over such childish tricks. Go to your room, and stay there for a while before you come to mine with an apology. Quick! At once!"

He stood, looking very important, as he gave a quick stamp and pointed towards the castle.

"You, Jenkin, go and put that sword away! Rogers and Martlet, go back to your work at once!"

"Stop!" said Roy, firmly, as the men looked at him for help. "Keep as you are. Master Pawson is my tutor, but he has no right to give you any orders.—I must ask you, sir, to go to your room, and not to interfere with what is going on around."

"Hah!" ejaculated Ben, expelling a tremendous pent-up breath, and he turned and winked at Rogers and Jenk, though the poor old gate-keeper could not see.

"The boy is mad," cried Master Pawson, flushing angrily now. "This is beyond bearing. An act of rebellion. Once more, sir, will you obey me?"

"Obey you, Master Pawson? In my studies, yes. Over the business of the castle, no!"

"I am striving to save you from being ridiculed by the whole district, sir, and I appeal to you not to force me to have you humbled by going in to complain to Lady Royland."

"You will not humble me, sir, by going in to complain to my mother, for she endorses everything I have done."

"Her ladyship does!" cried Master Pawson, looking quite aghast.

"Of course. All this is by my father's orders."

"Absurd, boy! Your father has given no such orders."

"Indeed!" said Roy, flushing angrily at the contradiction. "You have not been at home, sir, or you would have seen his messengers, three troopers, ride up this morning, from his regiment, who will stay to help us strengthen the place. There they are! I hope you don't think they look ridiculous in their uniforms."

For, as he was speaking, the three men, rested now and refreshed, had marched from the servants' hall to where the new recruits were drawn up, and stood there waiting for their captain to return.

For a few moments Master Pawson's face dropped, and he stared in his utter astonishment.

But he recovered himself quickly, and said, with a smile—

"Of course I did not know of this, my dear boy, especially as it all was while I have been away. As your father has given the orders in his letter,—and I am very glad that your mother has heard at last,—of course there is nothing to be done, unless her ladyship can be brought to see how unnecessary it all is, and likely to cause trouble and misconstruction among the neighbours. I am sure that if Sir Granby could be here now, he would see that it was needless. Whatever troubles may arise, nothing can disturb us in this secluded spot. There, I will go now to attend to my reading. When you have done playing at soldiers," he added, with a slightly mocking emphasis upon the "playing", "perhaps you will join me, Roy. You will get tired of handling swords too large for your hand, but of studies you can never weary. Au revoir. I am sorry we had this little misunderstanding."

He patted Roy on the shoulder and walked on across the drawbridge, as if not perceiving that his pupil followed him; and as he drew near the servants, ranged rather awkwardly in their fresh habiliments, he smiled in a way which made every man shrink and feel far more uncomfortable than he had been made by his stiff buff coat. But as he passed the three troopers,—fine, manly-looking, seasoned fellows, who wore their uniforms as if to the manner born, and who drew themselves up and saluted him, evidently looking upon him as one of the important personages of the house,—he ceased to smile, and went on to his study in the north-west tower, looking very serious and much disturbed in mind.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

GUNS AND NO POWDER?

Very little more was done with the men that day, for, in spite of Roy's spirited behaviour, he felt afterwards that Master Pawson had cast a damp upon the proceedings. Still, he knew that something must be done to counteract that sneering smile distributed among the men by the tutor; and upon his return to the rank he walked to and fro, and expressed his satisfaction at the promptitude they had displayed, and, after ordering them to assemble at nine the next morning, he dismissed them. For the messenger had returned with the village carpenter, who took one of the old capstan-bars for a pattern, and undertook to have half a dozen new ones of the strongest oak made by the next morning.

Then there was the greasing of the drawbridge chains and rollers to see to, and, when this was successfully done, Roy found to his satisfaction that the men could raise or lower it with, if not ease, at all events without much difficulty.

To the boy's great delight, he found that the three troopers dropped into their places in the most easy manner, obeying his every order with alacrity and displaying all the readiness of well-drilled men. They began by assisting at once with the cleaning and easing of the drawbridge chains, one of them, after stripping off his coat, gorget, and cap, climbing the supports to apply the lubricant to the rollers from outside, where they needed it most; and when, that evening, Ben suggested that one of the guns standing in the pleasaunce should be examined, they made the servants stare by the deft way in which they helped him to handle the ponderous mass of metal, hitching on ropes and dragging it out from where it had lain half-covered with ivy to where it was now planted, so that it could be made to sweep the road-way approaching the bridge; the other one in the garden being afterwards treated in the same way.

"Well, yes, sir, they're pretty heavy," said the corporal, in answer to a compliment passed by Roy upon the ease with which the work had been done; "but it isn't all strength that does it. It's knack—the way of handling a thing and all putting your muscle into it together."

"Ay, that's it," said Ben. "That's what you see in a good charge. If it's delivered in a scattering sort o' way it may do good, but the chance is it won't. But if the men ride on shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee, and then give point altogether—"

"Yes, as Sir Granby Royland's regiment can," said the corporal, proudly.

"Ay, and always did," cried Ben, excitedly. "It takes something to stand against 'em."

There was a dead silence then, and Roy's heart beat fast, for the war spirit was getting hold of him tightly, for his eyes flashed, and his eagerness to go on with the preparations grew stronger every hour.

"Now, about these guns, sergeant?" he said.

Ben's eyes twinkled as his rank was mentioned, and he gave his young master a grateful look.

"Well, sir," he said, "they've been fast asleep in that garden all these years, with enough ivy over 'em to keep 'em warm in winter and the sun off 'em in summer; but, now they've been woke up, I believe they'll bark as loudly and bite as well as any dogs of their size. If they'd been cast iron, I should have been for putting a very light charge in 'em and standing a good way off when they were fired, but, seeing as they're regular good brass guns and not a bit worn, all they want is a good cleaning up, and then they'll be fit to do their work like—like—well, sir, like guns. What do you say, corporal?"

"I say they're a fine and sound pair o' guns, sergeant, as'll do their work. We should like a night's rest first, but in the morning my two lads and me will give 'em a good scour up, and you won't know 'em again."

"Right! If the captain says yes, you shall; but I want to be with you— I'm armourer here."

"Oh, of course, sergeant," said the trooper. "Don't you think we want to take your place."

"I don't, my lad," said the old soldier, warmly; "and I'm only too glad to have three comrades out of the reg'lars to stand by me and help me to lick the recruits into shape."

"Thank ye, sergeant," said the man. "We four can soon do that. They're the right stuff, and only want a bit o' training." Then, turning and saluting Roy respectfully, he went on: "Sir Granby give us all a talking-to, sir, and said he'd picked us out because we—I mean t'others—was the handiest fellows he knew in the regiment, and he hoped we'd do our best to get things in a good state of defence. And, of course, sir, we shall."

The great, manly fellow spoke with a simple modesty that made Ben's eyes sparkle, and he nodded his head and remained silent when the man had ended, but gave vent to his satisfaction by bringing his hand down heavily upon the trooper's shoulder.

"We'll see to the other guns now then," said Roy.

"Yes, sir," said Ben, promptly. "Forward there to the sou'-east tower."

The three men marched off at once in the direction pointed out, and Ben stopped back for a moment or two to whisper to Roy, in a quick, vexed manner—

"Don't go on saying we'll do this next, or we'll do that next, sir, as if you was asking a favour of us. You're captain and castellan, as they calls him. You're governor and everything, and you've got to order us to do things sharp, short, and strong."

"But I don't want to bully you all, Ben," cried Roy.

"Nobody wants you to, sir. You can't be bullying a man when you're ordering him sharply to do what's right. Of course, if you ask us in your civil way to do a thing, we shall do it, but it aren't correct."

"I'll try differently, Ben."

"Sergeant, sir!"

"Ser-geant," said Roy. "But it's all so new yet, I can't quite realise it. And, of course, I'm so young to be ordering big men about."

"You've the right to do it, sir, and that's everything. Now, just suppose the enemy was in front playing up ruination and destruction, and your father was going to charge 'em with his regiment of tough dragoons, do you think he'd say, 'Now, my men, I want you to—or I'd like you to attack those rapscallions yonder'? Not he. He'd just say a word to the trumpeter, there'd be a note or two blown, and away we'd go at a walk; another blast, and we should trot; then another, and away we should be at 'em like a whirlwind, and scatter 'em like leaves. You must learn to order us, sir, sharply. Mind, sir, it's must!"

"Very well," said Roy.

"Don't you be afraid, sir; let us have your order sharp, whatever it is, and we'll do it."

"Then don't stand chattering there, sir!" cried Roy, fiercely. "Can't you see those three men are waiting for you at the bottom of the tower? Forward!"

"Ck!"

It was an unspeakable ejaculation which came from the old soldier's throat as he turned sharply and marched off to the men, chuckling to himself and shaking his shoulders as he went.

"He'll do," he muttered; and then aloud, "Up with you, my lads!"

Ben followed the men, and Roy came last, and, as he entered the door-way, he thought of the journey down to the powder-magazine, and felt a little shame at his nervousness.

Then up and up past the two floors and on towards the roof. As he reached the door-way leading out on to the battlements, he stood in the gloomy interior, and looked along the roof of the untenanted portion towards the north-west tower, wondering what Master Pawson was doing.

He was not left in doubt, for he could just see the secretary standing back from one of the narrow windows scanning the tower he was in, evidently having seen them enter, and watching to see what they were about to do.

A bit of boyishness entered into Roy just then, brought about by the business he was upon and the work he had been engaged in.

"I should like to startle him," he said to himself, as he gave his mischievous thought play. "One might load and train one of the guns, and fire the blank charge aimed just over his head. It would startle him."

The thought passed away directly, and he went up to the roof, where the four men were together upon the platform examining the two guns facing the embrasures.

These were not quite so big as the two standing now beneath the gate-way, but, for the date, they were of a pretty good size, and having the wood-work of the mounting in excellent condition.

"Well, how do they look?" Roy asked.

"Better than I thought, sir. They'll do. Only want a good cleaning. If you think a charge or two ought to be fired, sir, as was talked about, shall it be with one of these?"

"If—yes; fire them both," said Roy; and then he felt astonished at the fact that what he had imagined in mischief was really to be carried out.

"Next order, sir?" said Ben, gazing in his captain's face.

"See to the other guns on the north-east and south-west towers."

"Yes, sir. What's to be done with the two as was slung down when Master Pawson's rooms was furnished?"

"Sling them up again," cried Roy, promptly. "It is necessary now."

Ben gave his leg a slap and looked his satisfaction.

"Wouldn't like the two big guns hoisted over the gate-way, sir, I s'pose?"

"No, certainly not," cried Roy; "they will be of more value to sweep the approach of the castle. I'll have them kept there. Plenty of room to fire on each side of the drawbridge if it's up, and the muzzles would run through the square openings in the portcullis."

Old Ben stared at him round eyed, and shook his head; then he chuckled softly, and, muttering to himself his former words, "He'll do," he led the men to the south-west tower, upon whose platform three brass guns were mounted, and then to the north-east, where there were three more.

Twelve guns in all for the defence of the castle; but the question was, would the ammunition be of any use? Balls there were in abundance, for, in addition to piles standing pyramidally at the foot of each tower, half-covered now by flowers and shrubs, there were similar piles close to the carriage of each gun. But the vital force of the gun, the energy that should set the ball whizzing through the air, was the question, and to prove this, Ben asked for an order, and then walked with his young captain to the armoury, where he opened the great closet. One of the kegs was brought out and set down upon the broad oak table.

"I've been thinking, sir, that perhaps it would be best to fire the big guns under the gate-way to-night."

"Why?" asked Roy.

"Because we know their carriages are right, and I'm a bit doubtful about those upon the tower."

"Very well; try the powder in those."

"Yes, I hope I shall," said Ben; "but I'm a bit scared, sir."

"What! about the danger of opening the keg?"

"Tchah! no, sir. I can open that safely enough. It only means loosening the two hoops at the end, and then the heading will slip out. I mean this—the barrels have been down there no one knows how long, and what I want to know is, will it be powder after all?"

"Not powder after all!" cried Roy in astonishment, as his active mind began to question what liquor it could be there that was stored up so carefully as if it were a treasure indeed.

"I'm afraid it won't be, sir—very much afraid."

"Then what do you think it is?"

"Solid blocks o' stony stuff, sir, I should say."

"But they don't put stony stuff in kegs like these."

"No, sir, powder; but perhaps it has got damp with time and hardened so as it won't be of any use."

"Not if it's dried and ground up again."

"Don't know, sir; can't say; but we'll soon see." There was no hesitation shown. Ben tapped the two top hoops a little, and they soon grew loose and were worked up the staves; the top one withdrawn, and the next brought up into its place, having the wooden disc which formed the head free to be lifted out.

"I thought so, sir," said Ben with a sigh, as he looked in. "Just solid black, and nothing else."

He thumped the top of the contents with his knuckles, and then tapping the lower hoops they glided down and the staves fell apart, leaving a black block standing upon the table.

"Oh, this is bad luck, sir! horribly bad luck!" groaned Ben. "We shall have to get some powder from somewhere, Plymouth or—yes, Bristol's the most likely place."

"Fetch out the other keg, and open that, Ben," said Roy. "To be sure, sir," said Ben, and he turned to the closet and bore the second keg to the table. "If this is all right," he went on, "there's some hope for us, because we may find some more; but if it has gone bad from both sides it's all over with us: we can only stand well on the towers and throw stones down at whoever comes."

Ben's fingers were as busy as his tongue, and in a few minutes he had the head out of the second keg, looked in, and tapped it with his knuckles.

"Just the same, sir, just the same."

"Look here, Ben! I'll have one of these blocks chopped up, and then ground up fine, and we'll try it with a musket."

"Good, sir! that's the right thing to do; but after being wet once, I'm afraid it'll fizz off now like a firework."

"You don't know till you've tried, man. Now, let's see: get an axe, sergeant."

"If I might ask your pardon, captain, axes aren't the proper thing to break up a block of gunpowder. I should say a beetle or a mall was the thing."

"Well, get a mallet, then," said Roy; and the old man went to his tools used for repairing the armour, carpentering, or any other odd jobs, and brought out a mallet, with which he was about to strike a tremendous blow in the middle of the block, when Roy checked him.

"No, no!" he cried; "give it to me. I'll knock a piece off the top edge."

Ben handed the mallet respectfully enough, but he shook his head as if he did not consider that handling mallets was correct for the castellan of the place; while raising the implement not without some shade of doubt as to whether an explosion might follow the blow, but reassuring himself as he remembered that the mallet was only wood, Roy brought it down on the top with a sharp rap, and then started back in dismay, for a piece like a fragment of black potsherd fell upon the table with a bang, and a stream of fine grains came flowing out of the great hole he had made, covering the hardened piece and running on like black sand.

"Hurrah!" shouted Ben, excitedly; "they're all right, sir. Just formed a cake outside, and the inside's all safe and good. Twelve good brass guns, and plenty of powder. We're ready for all the enemies the king has got in this part of the world. Now we'll see for a couple of cartridges for the guns."

He fetched a couple of small bags, which he filled with the powder, and then, after putting back the unbroken keg-shaped block, as carefully cleared all the loose powder from the table, and placed that and the shape from which it had come in the oak closet, which he locked.

"Powder's powder, sir; so one has to take care," he said. "Now for a touch port-fire, and we'll try what sort of stuff it is."

Ben gave Roy a knowing look, and then from a drawer in the table he took a piece of prepared oakum such as was used for lowering into the pan of a freshly primed gun, stepped to a case in which were some old rammers, and declared himself ready to start, but hesitated and went to his tool-drawer again, out of which he routed a long thin spike.

"Now I think we're ready, sir," he said, and they went out to where the men were waiting, and prepared to load the two guns under the gate tower.

"These are only makeshifts," said Ben, apologetically, as he indicated his rough cartridges; "but they'll do to clear out the guns," and he set them down in the door-way leading into the old guard-room.

Then the long thin pin was tried in the touch-holes of both guns, and after a good deal of poking and drilling the orifices were cleared. Meanwhile, one of the troopers took the rammer Ben had brought out, inserted it at the muzzle, and found that it would only go in half-way. So a ragged stick was fetched, run in, twisted round and round, and withdrawn, dragging after it a wad of horsehair, cotton, hay, and feathers, while a succession of trials brought out more and more, the twisting round having a cleansing effect upon the bore of the gun as well.

"Ah!" said Ben, solemnly, "them tomtits have had the guns all to themselves for a fine time. I shall have to make some tompions to keep them out."

Quite a heap of nest-building material was drawn out of the two guns, the first obtained being evidently of that season, while farther in it was old and decayed to a mere mouldy powder that might have been carried in by the industrious little birds a score of years before.