Chapter Fifteen.

Chapter Fifteen.Ben Martlet proposes a Search.The coming in of Farmer Raynes and his ten men had a capital effect upon the people round. It was an example which soon bore fruit. After the first two or three attendances at the castle, they marched there together, with the farmer by them, in thorough military fashion, and were followed by the people from the village, who would have gladly come across the moat had not the gate been clanged-to by the sentry of the day on duty, and then they had to content themselves with standing gazing across at the drilling and martial exercises which went on. The firing of the big guns—for all were tried in turn so as to see that they were serviceable—was a grand portion of the entertainment, and, in spite of secret adverse influences at work, the tenants on the estate soon began to present themselves for enrolment in the little body, eager to a man to don the castle uniform and bear arms; while the fact that the officer in command was a mere boy sent the lads of the neighbourhood half-mad. In fact, day after day they came in pairs to offer themselves for enlistment, but only to go disappointed away; those who showed the most surprise at the refusal to accept their services being the very young.“Why, bless my heart!” Farmer Raynes would say, with his broad, deep chuckle, “it would be like putting a ’stinguisher on a rush-light to stick a steel cap on some of those boys’ heads. You’d be putting them out, Ben Martlet.”“Ay,” said the old fellow, showing his teeth; “but a few would be useful to go down the guns with a brush to clean them out. But there, I’m not going to laugh at the boys. Shows a good sperrit, Master Raynes, that I wish more of the older folk would follow.”“Ay, so do I,” said the farmer, frowning; “but they’re some of ’em ashamed and some afraid. Parson Meldew has a lot to do with it; and do you know why?”“Nay, not I; perhaps it’s because her ladyship has been such a good friend to him.”“Like enough. That sort’s always the worst. He has such a poor living that it’s my belief he’s glad of the chance of a change. He thinks he must be the better for it if it does come. I never much liked him; old parson was the man. Why, if he’d been alive, he’d ha’ been up here every day talking to the lads, and encouraging them to get on as well as they could to fight for church and state like good men and true. But you’ll have six more here to-day, good strong fellows from Marlow Mill.”“Eh? You don’t mean that?”“Oh, yes, I do,” said the farmer. “I was over there with the wagon last night to get that load o’ flour that I brought in this morning, and I give them all a talking-to about how things are, and my lads showing up so in their coats and steel caps. It’s of no use to bully ’em into coming. They want coaxing, not driving. I hadn’t been talking to ’em long, ’fore they did exactly what I wanted, asking questions, and I answered ’em so that they wanted to know about sword-play, and loading and firing the big guns; and then they wanted to know whether there were buff coats and steel caps for all as liked to come and drill. When I told ’em there was, lo and behold! they all found out that they wanted to do a bit of soldiering, and they’ll be over soon.”Farmer Raynes was quite right, for soon after, six sturdy young fellows came slouching up in a sheepish way to stand watching the drilling with open mouths, laughing and nudging one another as they recognised old acquaintances, and were apparently ready to joke and sneer. That passed off, however, in a few minutes, as they saw the goodly figure cut by the farmer’s men, and Raynes himself, no longer in the rough, flour-soiled attire, as they had seen him when fetching the meal-bags over-night, but a fine, bluff, gallant-looking fellow now, in buff coat, breastplate, headpiece, and glittering steel cap which flashed in the sunshine as he marched half a dozen armed men into the gate-way, then through the guard-room and up to the ramparts, along which they were seen to have to go through a certain amount of practice with the big guns.Within an hour the martial ardour that was glowing in the would-be recruits’ breasts was red-hot, and they asked leave to pass over the bridge.The sentry shook his head, but sent a messenger across to state the men’s business, and they stood waiting, doubly impressed now, till the man returned with the order that they were to wait. This they did till, a few minutes later, sharp words of command were heard in the gate-way; and then, closely followed by Roy, gallant in bearing and in his Italian half-armour, gold and white scarf, gauntlets, and feathered felt hat, Sergeant Martlet came with the three troopers at a smart, elastic march across the drawbridge, which rattled and quivered to their tread, till they reached the outer gate, where, at the word of command, they were halted, and stood at attention.Roy was on his mettle; his eyes glistening at the sight of the six awkward-looking fellows, knowing as he did what a change a few days in the hands of Ben and the troopers would effect; but he was growing strong enough now to begin adopting the policy of making it a favour to admit men to his chosen band. So he ruffled up like a young game-cock, to stand there glittering in the bright sunshine, with one gauntleted hand resting upon his hip, the other pressing down the hilt of his long sword.“Want to see me, my lads?” he said.There was a general whispering among the men as to who should speak, and at last one of them was shouldered forward with, “Go on, Sam; you say it.”Sam, the most sheepish of all, being thus thrust into prominence, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, took off his hat, made an awkward bow, and thus delivered himself, with a smile:“Morning, sir. You know me, Master Roy?”“Eh? Oh, yes; Sam Donny, from the mill. What is it, my lad?”“Only, sir, as me and my mates want to come and take sarvice here to fight for the king.”“Eh? You? Well, I don’t know, my lad; we only want good men and true here, who will learn their duty, and do it.”“Oh, that’s just what we are, sir,” said the man, smoothing down his hair; “not one on us as’d go to sleep o’ nights when the wind’s blowing.”“Ah, but I don’t want fellows to grind corn. I want men who will be ready to fight,—yes, and like men.”“Well, sir, ask all on ’em. I can fight, and lick any of the lot here. Oh, I can fight, and so can they.”“Hum—ha,” said Roy, marching slowly round them, while the men drew themselves up and seemed to grow a couple of inches taller each under the inspection of the young captain. “What do you think, sergeant?” he continued; “think you can make artillerymen of ’em?”Ben saluted, and took a few steps forward to march up and down the party, slapping their chests, feeling their arms, and pounding them heavily.“Got some bone and muscle in ’em, sir,” he said, respectfully, as his report. “Might try if they mean it.”“Take them across then to the armoury, measure them, and their names can be enrolled.”The men drew deep breaths of relief, and then grew nervous, for there was a short command or two given, a couple of the troopers stepped to their head, Ben and the corporal came up behind, and the little group of sturdy fellows was marched across into the guard-room, and afterwards into the armoury, to stand gaping at the weapons of war.“Did I do that right?” said Roy, afterwards.“Right, sir. The very thing. Those sort judge by what they see. They came to us half ready to laugh, but they soon saw how serious it all was; and they’ll go away back to the mill to-night, and I’ll be bound to say, Master Roy, if you followed ’em, you’d find they’d got a dozen other fellows about ’em, talking to ’em and boasting and bragging about how grand everything is, and showing ’em their uniforms and steel caps. This has about done it. You’ll see we shall get as many men as we want now.”“But I felt all the time as if I were acting,” said Roy.“What? Look here, Master Roy, don’t you go and say such a thing as that again. You weren’t acting, and so I tell you; only doing your duty to your king and country, and your father and mother into the bargain. You can’t do fighting without a bit of show along with it to brighten it up. You ask a man whether he’d like to wear a feather in his cap, and a bit o’ scarlet and gold on his back, he’ll laugh at you and say that such things are only for women. But don’t you believe him, my lad; he won’t own it, but he likes it all the same.”Ben was right. For the next week men from the village and the surrounding farms came up to the castle looking very serious and important, to be enrolled for its defence; and at the end of a fortnight there were fifty defenders, of whom fully forty looked as if they could be depended upon, while the rest would serve to make a show.Meanwhile, Farmer Raynes attended the drilling and gun practice every morning with his men, the whole gathering rapidly picking up the rudiments of the military art under their four good teachers; while at noon all, save about a fourth, went back to their peaceful vocations, but ready at the arranged-for signal of two guns fired from the castle to hurry back, every man to his post, to stay in garrison continuously, instead of doing so one day in four.Farmer Raynes devoted the rest of his time to going round and gathering stores,—provender and forage of every kind that would be necessary,—and his wagons seemed to be always coming or going across the drawbridge; while vaults and chambers in the castle which had remained unused for generations were now packed as store-rooms and granaries.“Never mind the farm, Master Roy,” said the bluff fellow, one day; “it isn’t quite going backward.”“But the crops?” said Master Pawson, anxiously, for he was present.“Well, Master Pawson, they won’t be so good as they should be, of course, but they’ll grow whether I’m there or no, and Sir Granby won’t mind. He’s a rich gentleman with a beautiful estate.”“Yes, yes,” said Master Pawson; “it is a beautiful estate.”He looked quickly from the farmer to Roy, and back, as if he thought he had said too much.“Ay, sir, it is a fine estate, and he’s a lucky man who holds it. He won’t mind a few things going wrong, so long as we take care to save it from some of the crop-eared rascals who’ll be on the lookout to try and take possession. I’ll be bound to say that there’s some of ’em smelling about already, and making up their minds to make a grab at it if the king’s crown goes down.”“Surely—surely not, Master Raynes,” cried the secretary.“That’s what I think, sir. There’s them here wouldn’t be above taking possession of a pig, or a sack of my oats or barley; and there’s bigger rogues who like bigger things, and would give their ears to get Sir Granby’s fine estate. You mark my words, Master Roy; you’ll see.”Roy did mark those words, thinking deeply of them during the following busy month, by which time the castle was in a fine state of defence, its little garrison of twelve or fourteen men, who kept watch and ward in regular military style, being relieved every day; while at the first bad news of danger, Roy was ready to summon his whole force from farm and mill, hoist the drawbridge, drop the portcullis, and with his stores of provisions set any beleaguering force at defiance, whether large or small.“There, sir,” said Ben one morning, “I begin to feel now as if I could breathe. There’s a lot as wants doing yet, and I should dearly like to do away with that garden as spoils the court-yard, so as I could have a proper march round; but they won’t come and catch us quite asleep.”“No, Ben; you’ve done splendidly. It’s wonderful to see what smart fellows you have made of the men.”“Ay, and don’t they know it too, sir?” said Ben, chuckling. “See the way they all marched past her ladyship this morning? There wasn’t a man as didn’tfeelas if he was twice as big as he was a month or two ago. And see those big lads looking on?”“Yes; there were forty or fifty across the moat.”“Ay, looking on as hungry as could be. Look here, Master Roy, I’m thinking a deal of getting say forty of ’em together—picked ones—as soon as I’ve more time, and knocking them into shape.”“I think it would be wise, Ben. They’d do well to work the guns.”“They would, sir; but we’ll see. Any more news?”“No, Ben; only rumours.”“Master Pawson heard anything?”“No, not for a long time past. But look here, Ben, we have got the place in good order now, yet nothing has been done to see if there is any truth in the story about the secret passage leading into the old chapel.”Ben gave his head a punch.“No, sir; and yet I think of it every night just before I go off to sleep. It ought to be done, for it’s of no use to keep polishing up a pot that’s got a big hole somewhere in the bottom.”“Of course it is not,” said Roy. “Look here; when will you begin to search?”“Let’s hit while the iron’s hot; sir, eh? You and I will go round and visit all the sentinels to-night, and then, as we shall have a lantern, we’ll begin.”“Where?”“Down under the north-west tower, sir.”“And ask Master Pawson to go with us?”“Nay, sir; we’ll keep it all to ourselves.”“But he will hear us about the steps, and opening and shutting doors.”“But he mustn’t, sir. I’ll oil all the locks and the keys I have, and we must smuggle our light under a big cloak. No, sir, we don’t want Master Pawson with us; let him study his chirurgery and sewing of cuts, and stopping up bullet-holes. That’ll do for him. This is a job for the castellan and his head-sergeant, sir; and, if you’ll take my advice, that’s the order for the night.”“Very well, Ben; that is the order for the night.”“One word, sir. How is my lady getting on with the flag? That old one is so tender like, I’m afraid it’ll blow to pieces first time it’s hoisted.”“Getting on splendidly.”“Big as the old one, sir?”“Half as big again, Ben.”“That’ll do, sir. I believe in a big flag. It gives the men courage, and bullies the enemy. Now I really do begin to feel as if I could breathe.”

The coming in of Farmer Raynes and his ten men had a capital effect upon the people round. It was an example which soon bore fruit. After the first two or three attendances at the castle, they marched there together, with the farmer by them, in thorough military fashion, and were followed by the people from the village, who would have gladly come across the moat had not the gate been clanged-to by the sentry of the day on duty, and then they had to content themselves with standing gazing across at the drilling and martial exercises which went on. The firing of the big guns—for all were tried in turn so as to see that they were serviceable—was a grand portion of the entertainment, and, in spite of secret adverse influences at work, the tenants on the estate soon began to present themselves for enrolment in the little body, eager to a man to don the castle uniform and bear arms; while the fact that the officer in command was a mere boy sent the lads of the neighbourhood half-mad. In fact, day after day they came in pairs to offer themselves for enlistment, but only to go disappointed away; those who showed the most surprise at the refusal to accept their services being the very young.

“Why, bless my heart!” Farmer Raynes would say, with his broad, deep chuckle, “it would be like putting a ’stinguisher on a rush-light to stick a steel cap on some of those boys’ heads. You’d be putting them out, Ben Martlet.”

“Ay,” said the old fellow, showing his teeth; “but a few would be useful to go down the guns with a brush to clean them out. But there, I’m not going to laugh at the boys. Shows a good sperrit, Master Raynes, that I wish more of the older folk would follow.”

“Ay, so do I,” said the farmer, frowning; “but they’re some of ’em ashamed and some afraid. Parson Meldew has a lot to do with it; and do you know why?”

“Nay, not I; perhaps it’s because her ladyship has been such a good friend to him.”

“Like enough. That sort’s always the worst. He has such a poor living that it’s my belief he’s glad of the chance of a change. He thinks he must be the better for it if it does come. I never much liked him; old parson was the man. Why, if he’d been alive, he’d ha’ been up here every day talking to the lads, and encouraging them to get on as well as they could to fight for church and state like good men and true. But you’ll have six more here to-day, good strong fellows from Marlow Mill.”

“Eh? You don’t mean that?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” said the farmer. “I was over there with the wagon last night to get that load o’ flour that I brought in this morning, and I give them all a talking-to about how things are, and my lads showing up so in their coats and steel caps. It’s of no use to bully ’em into coming. They want coaxing, not driving. I hadn’t been talking to ’em long, ’fore they did exactly what I wanted, asking questions, and I answered ’em so that they wanted to know about sword-play, and loading and firing the big guns; and then they wanted to know whether there were buff coats and steel caps for all as liked to come and drill. When I told ’em there was, lo and behold! they all found out that they wanted to do a bit of soldiering, and they’ll be over soon.”

Farmer Raynes was quite right, for soon after, six sturdy young fellows came slouching up in a sheepish way to stand watching the drilling with open mouths, laughing and nudging one another as they recognised old acquaintances, and were apparently ready to joke and sneer. That passed off, however, in a few minutes, as they saw the goodly figure cut by the farmer’s men, and Raynes himself, no longer in the rough, flour-soiled attire, as they had seen him when fetching the meal-bags over-night, but a fine, bluff, gallant-looking fellow now, in buff coat, breastplate, headpiece, and glittering steel cap which flashed in the sunshine as he marched half a dozen armed men into the gate-way, then through the guard-room and up to the ramparts, along which they were seen to have to go through a certain amount of practice with the big guns.

Within an hour the martial ardour that was glowing in the would-be recruits’ breasts was red-hot, and they asked leave to pass over the bridge.

The sentry shook his head, but sent a messenger across to state the men’s business, and they stood waiting, doubly impressed now, till the man returned with the order that they were to wait. This they did till, a few minutes later, sharp words of command were heard in the gate-way; and then, closely followed by Roy, gallant in bearing and in his Italian half-armour, gold and white scarf, gauntlets, and feathered felt hat, Sergeant Martlet came with the three troopers at a smart, elastic march across the drawbridge, which rattled and quivered to their tread, till they reached the outer gate, where, at the word of command, they were halted, and stood at attention.

Roy was on his mettle; his eyes glistening at the sight of the six awkward-looking fellows, knowing as he did what a change a few days in the hands of Ben and the troopers would effect; but he was growing strong enough now to begin adopting the policy of making it a favour to admit men to his chosen band. So he ruffled up like a young game-cock, to stand there glittering in the bright sunshine, with one gauntleted hand resting upon his hip, the other pressing down the hilt of his long sword.

“Want to see me, my lads?” he said.

There was a general whispering among the men as to who should speak, and at last one of them was shouldered forward with, “Go on, Sam; you say it.”

Sam, the most sheepish of all, being thus thrust into prominence, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, took off his hat, made an awkward bow, and thus delivered himself, with a smile:

“Morning, sir. You know me, Master Roy?”

“Eh? Oh, yes; Sam Donny, from the mill. What is it, my lad?”

“Only, sir, as me and my mates want to come and take sarvice here to fight for the king.”

“Eh? You? Well, I don’t know, my lad; we only want good men and true here, who will learn their duty, and do it.”

“Oh, that’s just what we are, sir,” said the man, smoothing down his hair; “not one on us as’d go to sleep o’ nights when the wind’s blowing.”

“Ah, but I don’t want fellows to grind corn. I want men who will be ready to fight,—yes, and like men.”

“Well, sir, ask all on ’em. I can fight, and lick any of the lot here. Oh, I can fight, and so can they.”

“Hum—ha,” said Roy, marching slowly round them, while the men drew themselves up and seemed to grow a couple of inches taller each under the inspection of the young captain. “What do you think, sergeant?” he continued; “think you can make artillerymen of ’em?”

Ben saluted, and took a few steps forward to march up and down the party, slapping their chests, feeling their arms, and pounding them heavily.

“Got some bone and muscle in ’em, sir,” he said, respectfully, as his report. “Might try if they mean it.”

“Take them across then to the armoury, measure them, and their names can be enrolled.”

The men drew deep breaths of relief, and then grew nervous, for there was a short command or two given, a couple of the troopers stepped to their head, Ben and the corporal came up behind, and the little group of sturdy fellows was marched across into the guard-room, and afterwards into the armoury, to stand gaping at the weapons of war.

“Did I do that right?” said Roy, afterwards.

“Right, sir. The very thing. Those sort judge by what they see. They came to us half ready to laugh, but they soon saw how serious it all was; and they’ll go away back to the mill to-night, and I’ll be bound to say, Master Roy, if you followed ’em, you’d find they’d got a dozen other fellows about ’em, talking to ’em and boasting and bragging about how grand everything is, and showing ’em their uniforms and steel caps. This has about done it. You’ll see we shall get as many men as we want now.”

“But I felt all the time as if I were acting,” said Roy.

“What? Look here, Master Roy, don’t you go and say such a thing as that again. You weren’t acting, and so I tell you; only doing your duty to your king and country, and your father and mother into the bargain. You can’t do fighting without a bit of show along with it to brighten it up. You ask a man whether he’d like to wear a feather in his cap, and a bit o’ scarlet and gold on his back, he’ll laugh at you and say that such things are only for women. But don’t you believe him, my lad; he won’t own it, but he likes it all the same.”

Ben was right. For the next week men from the village and the surrounding farms came up to the castle looking very serious and important, to be enrolled for its defence; and at the end of a fortnight there were fifty defenders, of whom fully forty looked as if they could be depended upon, while the rest would serve to make a show.

Meanwhile, Farmer Raynes attended the drilling and gun practice every morning with his men, the whole gathering rapidly picking up the rudiments of the military art under their four good teachers; while at noon all, save about a fourth, went back to their peaceful vocations, but ready at the arranged-for signal of two guns fired from the castle to hurry back, every man to his post, to stay in garrison continuously, instead of doing so one day in four.

Farmer Raynes devoted the rest of his time to going round and gathering stores,—provender and forage of every kind that would be necessary,—and his wagons seemed to be always coming or going across the drawbridge; while vaults and chambers in the castle which had remained unused for generations were now packed as store-rooms and granaries.

“Never mind the farm, Master Roy,” said the bluff fellow, one day; “it isn’t quite going backward.”

“But the crops?” said Master Pawson, anxiously, for he was present.

“Well, Master Pawson, they won’t be so good as they should be, of course, but they’ll grow whether I’m there or no, and Sir Granby won’t mind. He’s a rich gentleman with a beautiful estate.”

“Yes, yes,” said Master Pawson; “it is a beautiful estate.”

He looked quickly from the farmer to Roy, and back, as if he thought he had said too much.

“Ay, sir, it is a fine estate, and he’s a lucky man who holds it. He won’t mind a few things going wrong, so long as we take care to save it from some of the crop-eared rascals who’ll be on the lookout to try and take possession. I’ll be bound to say that there’s some of ’em smelling about already, and making up their minds to make a grab at it if the king’s crown goes down.”

“Surely—surely not, Master Raynes,” cried the secretary.

“That’s what I think, sir. There’s them here wouldn’t be above taking possession of a pig, or a sack of my oats or barley; and there’s bigger rogues who like bigger things, and would give their ears to get Sir Granby’s fine estate. You mark my words, Master Roy; you’ll see.”

Roy did mark those words, thinking deeply of them during the following busy month, by which time the castle was in a fine state of defence, its little garrison of twelve or fourteen men, who kept watch and ward in regular military style, being relieved every day; while at the first bad news of danger, Roy was ready to summon his whole force from farm and mill, hoist the drawbridge, drop the portcullis, and with his stores of provisions set any beleaguering force at defiance, whether large or small.

“There, sir,” said Ben one morning, “I begin to feel now as if I could breathe. There’s a lot as wants doing yet, and I should dearly like to do away with that garden as spoils the court-yard, so as I could have a proper march round; but they won’t come and catch us quite asleep.”

“No, Ben; you’ve done splendidly. It’s wonderful to see what smart fellows you have made of the men.”

“Ay, and don’t they know it too, sir?” said Ben, chuckling. “See the way they all marched past her ladyship this morning? There wasn’t a man as didn’tfeelas if he was twice as big as he was a month or two ago. And see those big lads looking on?”

“Yes; there were forty or fifty across the moat.”

“Ay, looking on as hungry as could be. Look here, Master Roy, I’m thinking a deal of getting say forty of ’em together—picked ones—as soon as I’ve more time, and knocking them into shape.”

“I think it would be wise, Ben. They’d do well to work the guns.”

“They would, sir; but we’ll see. Any more news?”

“No, Ben; only rumours.”

“Master Pawson heard anything?”

“No, not for a long time past. But look here, Ben, we have got the place in good order now, yet nothing has been done to see if there is any truth in the story about the secret passage leading into the old chapel.”

Ben gave his head a punch.

“No, sir; and yet I think of it every night just before I go off to sleep. It ought to be done, for it’s of no use to keep polishing up a pot that’s got a big hole somewhere in the bottom.”

“Of course it is not,” said Roy. “Look here; when will you begin to search?”

“Let’s hit while the iron’s hot; sir, eh? You and I will go round and visit all the sentinels to-night, and then, as we shall have a lantern, we’ll begin.”

“Where?”

“Down under the north-west tower, sir.”

“And ask Master Pawson to go with us?”

“Nay, sir; we’ll keep it all to ourselves.”

“But he will hear us about the steps, and opening and shutting doors.”

“But he mustn’t, sir. I’ll oil all the locks and the keys I have, and we must smuggle our light under a big cloak. No, sir, we don’t want Master Pawson with us; let him study his chirurgery and sewing of cuts, and stopping up bullet-holes. That’ll do for him. This is a job for the castellan and his head-sergeant, sir; and, if you’ll take my advice, that’s the order for the night.”

“Very well, Ben; that is the order for the night.”

“One word, sir. How is my lady getting on with the flag? That old one is so tender like, I’m afraid it’ll blow to pieces first time it’s hoisted.”

“Getting on splendidly.”

“Big as the old one, sir?”

“Half as big again, Ben.”

“That’ll do, sir. I believe in a big flag. It gives the men courage, and bullies the enemy. Now I really do begin to feel as if I could breathe.”

Chapter Sixteen.The Passage that is too Secret.“Going, Roy?” said Lady Royland to her son, as he rose from his seat in the library that night about an hour after Master Pawson had gone to his room, retiring early on the plea of a bad headache.“Yes, mother; I’m going my rounds.”Lady Royland sighed.“It seems very hard on you, my boy—all this work and watching.”“Oh, I don’t mind,” said the lad, smiling; “I’ve got used to it already. It makes everything go so regularly, and I feel sure that I have done everything to make the place safe.”“But it is hard upon the sentries, who, but for this, would be peacefully sleeping in their beds.”“Do us all good, mother. Good-night.”There was an affectionate embrace, and Roy went to his room, buckled on his sword, put on his helmet, threw a large cloak over his shoulders, and then went down to the guard-room door in the great lower gate-way, to be challenged at once, and forced to give the word.A faint light shone out from the open door upon the military figure on duty, and Roy recognised in him one of the men from the mill, completely transformed from the heavy plodding fellow who had come in to take service.But the challenge had brought out the old sergeant, also in a cloak, although it was a hot night, and within it he swung a lighted lantern.The drawbridge was up and the portcullis down, making the entrance look black and strange, and shutting off the outer gate, from which the day guard was withdrawn, though this had not been accomplished without trouble and persuasion, for old Jenkin had protested.“Like giving up the whole castle to the enemy, Master Roy,” he said, with a full sense of the importance of his little square tower, and quite ignoring the fact that in the event of trouble he would be entirely cut off from his fellows if the drawbridge was raised.But the old man gave in.“Sodger’s dooty is to ’bey orders,” he said; and with the full understanding that he was to go back to his gate in the morning, he came into the guard-room to sleep on a bench every night.“How is old Jenk?” said Roy.“Fast asleep in his reg’lar place,” replied Ben, and he led the way back into the gloomy stone guard-room, where he held up the lantern over the venerable old fellow’s face, and Roy looked at him thoughtfully.“Seems hard to understand it, Master Roy, don’t it?” said Ben; “but if we lives, you and me’ll grow to be as old as that. I expect to find some morning as he’s gone off too fast ever to wake up again.”“Poor old fellow!” said Roy, laying his gloved band gently on the grey head. “How fond he always was of getting me to his room when I could only just toddle, and taking me to the moat to throw bread to the carp.”“Fished you out one day, didn’t he, Master Roy!”“To be sure, yes; I had almost forgotten that. I had escaped from the nurse and tumbled in.”“Ah! he’s been a fine old fellow,” said Ben. “I used to think he was a great worry sticking out for doing this and doing that, when he wasn’t a bit of good and only in the way; but somehow, Master Roy, I began to feel that some day I might be just as old and stupid and no more use, and that made me fancy something else.”“What was that, Ben?” said Roy, for the old soldier had paused.“Well, sir, I began to think that I was growing into a vain old fool after all, or else I should have seen that old Jenk was perhaps of more use here than I am. Can’t you see, Master Roy?”“I can’t see what you mean, Ben.”“Why, that old chap’s about the finest sample of a reg’lar soldier that these young fellows can have. I believe if the enemy did come, that old man would draw the sword that shakes in his weak old hand, and march right away to meet ’em as bravely as the best here.”“I’m sure he would, Ben,” said Roy, warmly.“Then he’s one of our best men still, sir. Come on—I mean give the order, sir, and let’s go our rounds.”Then, in the silence of the dark night, Roy led the way to the winding stair, and mounted silently to the ramparts, closely followed by Ben with the blinded lantern, and on reaching the top, they walked on to the left to the south-west tower; but before they could reach it a firm voice challenged them from the top. Then after giving the pass they went on through the tower and out onto the western ramparts, turning now to where the north-west tower loomed up all in darkness.“Master Pawson’s abed, sir,” whispered Ben.“Yes; not well,” was the reply, in the same low tone.But there was no challenge from here, and Roy walked silently in at the arched door-way, passed the secretary’s door, and mounted the stair to severely admonish the sentry who was not keenly on the alert.“Don’t let him off easy, Master Roy,” whispered Ben; “we might have been an enemy, sir, for aught he could tell.”This was spoken with the sergeant’s lips to his young master’s ear, and a few moments later Roy was at the top of the little turret, and stood there in the door-way ready to pounce upon the man whom he expected to find asleep.But to his great satisfaction the sentry was well on the alert, for he was kneeling at one of the crenelles, reaching out as far as he could, and evidently watching something away to the north, while all was so still and dark that the movement of a fish or water-rat in the deep moat below sounded loud and strange.Roy stepped out silently, crossed the narrow leads, andstood looking in the same direction as the sentinel; but he could make out nothing, and he was about to speak when the man, who had suddenly divined his presence, sprang up and clapped his hand to his sword.“Stand!” he cried, hoarsely.Roy gave the word, and Ben stepped out of the door-way to his side.“Why, sir, you quite scared me,” faltered the man; “I didn’t hear you come.”“You should have heard,” said Roy, sternly. “What were you watching there?”“That’s what I don’t know, sir. I see a light out yonder somewheres about where them old stones is on the hill. And then I thought I heard talking, but that’s quarter of an hour ago.”Both Roy and his companion had a good long look, but there was nothing to see or hear; and after admonishing the man to keep an eye upon the place, they descended and visited the sentries on the north-east and south-east towers, to find them well upon thequi vive.After this they descended, and Ben led the way to the armoury, where he set the lantern on the table, took a spare candle from a box, and a bunch of keys from a drawer.“May mean nothing, Master Roy; but I don’t understand what light there could be up nigh the old chapel ruins, nor who could be talking there at this time of night.”“Not likely to be anything wrong, Ben, because if they had been enemies, they would not have shown a light.”“Signal perhaps, sir.”“Well, they wouldn’t have talked aloud.”“Don’t suppose they did, sir. Sound runs in a still, dark night like this. Well, anyways it seems to me as it’s quite time we had a good look round to see if there’s a hole anywhere in the bottom of the pot, so if you’re ready, so am I. Only say the word.”“Forward!” cried Roy; and, going first with the lantern, Ben led the way along the corridor to the head of a flight of stone steps, down which they went to the underground passage, which with groined roof ran right along all four sides of the castle. The dark place seemed full of whispering echoes, as they went on past door after door leading into cellar and dungeon, all now turned into stores; for the great mass of provender brought in by Farmer Raynes’s wagons had here been carefully packed away, the contents of each place being signified by a white, neatly painted number, duly recorded in a book where the account of what number so-and-so indicated was carefully written in Master Pawson’s best hand, since he had eagerly undertaken the duties of clerk.At each corner of the castle basement, the passage expanded into a circular crypt with a huge stone pillar, many feet in diameter, in the middle, from which radiated massive arches to rest on eight smaller pillars. This radial series of arches supported one of the towers, and, after passing the one to the north-east, Ben led on with his lantern along the passage running to the tower at the north-west corner, the dim light casting strange shadows behind, which seemed to be moving in pursuit of the two silent figures, urged on by the whispering echoes of their steps.The pavement was smooth and perfectly dry, as were the massive stone walls; and as they went on, Roy fell into a musing fit, and thought of what a strongly built place Royland castle was, and how in times of emergency, if a garrison were hard pressed and had to yield rampart and tower to a powerful enemy, they would still have these passages and crypts as a place of refuge from which, if a bold defence were made, it would be impossible to dislodge them.Apparently mind does influence mind under certain circumstances, for, just as Roy had arrived at this point, Ben stopped short and turned.“Look here, Master Roy,” he said, “you ought, now we’re getting in pretty good order, to do two things.”“Yes; what are they?”“Have that there stone gallows on the ramparts put a bit in order. It wants a few stones and some mortar.”“Why should I have that put in order?” said Roy, shortly.“Case you want to hang any traitors, sir, for giving notice to the enemy of what we’re doing, or trying to open the gates to ’em.”“I shall never want to hang any traitors,” said Roy, sternly.“I don’t s’pose you will, sir; but it’s just as well to let people see that you could if you wanted to. Might keep us from having any.”“I will not let the garrison see that I could have any such mistrust of the men who have come bravely up to help to protect my father’s property.”“Well, Master Roy, that sounds handsome, and I like the idea of it: it’s cheering-like to a man who tries to do his best. But all people don’t think same as we do, and whenever we hear of a castle being attacked and defended, there were always people outside trying to make traitors of those who were in, and temptation’s a nasty, cunning, ’sinuating sort of a thing. But you’re castellan, and you ought to do as you please.”“I will, Ben, over that, at all events. Fancy what my mother would think if I were to be making preparations for such a horror.”“Hum! yes, sir. What would she think? That’s a queer thing, Master Roy, isn’t it, what a deal mothers have to do with how a man does, whether he’s a boy or whether he’s growed up?”“Why, of course they have. It is natural.”“Yes, sir; I suppose it is,” said the old soldier, as he went on. “You wouldn’t think it, perhaps, of such a rough ’un as me, and at my time o’ life, but I never quite get my old woman out of my head.”“I don’t see how any one could ever forget his mother,” said Roy, flushing a little.“He can’t, sir,” said Ben, sharply; “what she taught him and said always sticks to the worst of us. The pity of it is, that we get stoopid and ashamed of it all—nay, not all, for it comes back, and does a lot of good sometimes, and—pst!—pst!—if we talk so loud we shall be waking Master Pawson. But I say, Master Roy, it won’t do, really. Look at that now!”They were close to the circular crypt beneath the north-west tower, and Ben was holding up his lantern towards the curve of the arches on his left.“Roots! coming through between the stones.”“Yes, sir, that’s it. Only the trees her ladyship had planted, and that’s the beginning of pulling this corner of the castle down. There’s nothing like roots for that job. Cannon-balls’ll do it, and pretty quickly too; but give a tree time, and it’ll shake stone away from stone, and let the water come in, and then the frost freezes it, and soon it’s all over with the strongest tower ever made. Do ’ee now ask her to have ’em cut down, and the roots burned.”“I’m not going to ask anything of the sort, Ben,” said Roy, shortly. “Now about this passage. You think it must run somewhere from here.”“Yes, sir,” replied the old soldier, as he stood now under one of the arches of the crypt and raised his lantern to open a door. “There, now we can see a bit better. If there is such a place, it starts, I suppose, from somewhere here.”He walked slowly round the place, holding the lantern into the recesses, eight of which appeared between the pillars surrounding that in the centre.“But there’s plenty of room here for storing sacks or anything else, and you can have doors made to those two that haven’t got any, if you like.”Roy walked into one of these recesses—cellar-like places of horse-shoe curve, going in a dozen feet, and then ending in a flat wall.“Which way am I looking here, Ben?” said Roy.“Out’ards, sir; you’re standing about level with the bottom of the moat, or pretty nigh thereabouts. You’re—yes—that’s where you are, just at the nor’-west corner, and the moat turns there.”“Then the places on each side here face the moat, one to the north, the other to the west.”“Well, not exactly, sir, but nearly.”“Then the secret passage can’t begin at the end of either of these, and been built up.”“I dunno, sir. Folk in the past as had to do with them passages did all they could to make ’em cunning.”“But they couldn’t have made a passage through the moat.”“Of course not, sir; it must have gone under it.”“Then it couldn’t have started from here.”“Why not, sir?” said Ben, with a low laugh; “what’s to prevent there being another dungeon like this on the other side of the wall there, one with a trap-door in it leading down ever so many steps into another place, and the passage begin ten or twenty foot deeper.”“Something like the powder-magazine is made?”“That’s it, sir. We’re in the lower part of a big round tower, and we know there’s those floors above us one on top of the other, and we don’t know that the old Roylands who built this place mayn’t have dug down and down before they started it, and made one, two, or three floors below where we stand.”“What? Dug right down? Impossible!”“They dug down that time as deep into the old stone to make the big well, sir.”“Of course; then it is possible.”“Possible, sir? Oh yes; look at the secret passages there are in some old walls, made just in the thickness, and doors leading into ’em just where you wouldn’t expect ’em to be. Up a chimney, perhaps, or a side of a window. I heered tell of one as was quite a narrow door, just big enough for a man to pass through, and you didn’t walk into it, because it wasn’t upright; but you got into it by crawling through a square hole with a thin stone door which fell back after you were through. Then you stood up, and could go half round the old house it was in.”“Well,” said Roy, “if there is such a passage, we must find it; but if it has been built up, we might have to pull half the place down.”“Yes, sir; but first of all, we’ll have a good look in these cellars, for it mayn’t have been built up, and we may find it easily enough. Begin then, and let’s try.”Ben trimmed the candle with his forefinger and thumb, making the flame brighter, and then holding the light close to the flat face of the wall, they examined stone after stone; but as far as they could make out, they had not been tampered with since the day the masons concluded their task.Then the curved walls right and left were examined quickly, as they were little likely to contain a concealed opening; lastly, the flags on the floor, and, finally, Ben drew his sword and softly tapped each in turn.But not one gave forth a hollow sound. Everything was solid, even the walls at the back.“Let’s try the other open one, sir,” said Ben, and they continued their investigations in this place, which was precisely similar to the first, and yielded the same results.Then the keys of the great bunch Ben carried were tried on one fast-closed door of oak, studded with square nails much corroded by rust, but it was not until the last key had been thrust in that with a harsh creaking the bolt of the ponderous lock shot back; and then it required the united efforts of both to get the door to turn upon the rusty hinges.Here they were met by precisely the same appearances, and the search was made, and ended by sounding with the sword pommel.“No, sir; there’s nothing here.”“I’m afraid not,” said Roy; “everything sounds solid.”“Ay, sir, and solid it is.”“But if you tap so hard, Master Pawson will hear you,” whispered Roy, as the old soldier tried the floor again.“Maybe not, sir; but if he do, he do. Let’s hope now he’s fast asleep; you see, he’s three floors higher up.”“But knocking sounds travel a long distance, Ben, and I’d rather he did not know.”“Me too, sir. Well, this is only three. Let’s try the others.”“I hope you are not going to have so much work with the finding of the key,” said Roy; “it hinders us so.”“Plenty of time before morning, sir,” replied Ben, coolly; and after relocking the heavy low door, he tried the key he had just withdrawn upon the next door, and, to the surprise of both, it yielded easily, and was thrown open.Again the same clean, swept-out place, with plenty of grey cobwebs; but that was all.Upon sounding the stones, however, at the back, they fancied that they detected a suggestion of hollowness, still not enough to make Roy determine to have the wall torn down.This place was locked and the next tried, the only satisfactory part of the business being that the key before used evidently opened all the locks in the basement of this tower; and so it proved, as one after the other the dungeons or cellars were tried with the same unsatisfactory results, for none of the eight afforded the slightest trace of the clew they sought.At last, pretty well tired out and covered with cobwebs, they stood in the crypt while Ben lit a fresh candle, the first having burned down into the socket, with the wick swimming in molten fat, and Roy said, with a yawn—“I wonder whether there is a passage after all, or whether it is some old woman’s tale.”“Nay, sir, there is,” said the old soldier, solemnly. “Your father said there was, and he must have known.”“Well, then, where is the door?” said Roy, peevishly.“Ah! that’s what we’ve got to find out, sir. You’re tired now, and no wonder. So let’s try another night. You’re not going to give a thing up because you didn’t do it the first time.”“I hope not,” said Roy, with another yawn; “but I am a bit tired now. I say, Ben, though, think it’s in one of the places we’ve filled up with stores?”“I hope not, sir; that would be making too hard a job of it.”“Stop a moment,” cried Roy, brightening up; “I have it.”“You know where it is, sir?” cried Ben, eagerly.“Not this end,” said Roy, laughing, “but the other.”“What, in the old ruins? Of course.”“Well, why not go and find that, and then trace it down to here. It would be the easiest way.”“There is something in that, sir, certainly,” said the old soldier, thoughtfully; “ever been there, sir?”“Once, blackberrying; but of course I never saw anything; only a rabbit or two.”“Then if we can’t find it here after a good try or two, sir, we’ll have a walk over there some evening, though I don’t feel to like the idea of leaving the place, specially as all the gentry seem so unfriendly. Not a soul, you see, has been to see her ladyship. Looks bad, Master Roy, and as if there was more going on than we know of round about us.”“Ah, well, never mind that,” said Roy; “let’s get back out of this chilly, echoing place. I’m fagged.”“We’ll go back this way, sir,” said Ben; and he went on first with the lantern, till he came to one of the flights of stone steps leading up to the ground level.“Let’s go on here, Ben,” said Roy; and, upon their reaching the corridor above, the boy looked back along it towards where the stairs went up into the corner tower, beneath which they had been so busy.“Wonder whether Master Pawson heard us, Ben.”“Can’t say, sir. I should fancy not, or he’d have been on the stir to know what was the matter.”“Mightn’t have cared to stir in the dark, Ben. I say, I should like to know. Look here, he went off early to bed, because he said he was unwell. I’ll go and ask how he is. That’s a good excuse for seeing.”“Well, so it is, sir,” said Ben, rubbing his ear; “and if he did hear anything, he’d be pretty sure to speak.”“Of course. Then I will go. Come and light me.” Roy hurried along back with Ben following and casting the boy’s shadow before him, till they reached the arched door-way, where they went up the few stone steps in the spiral staircase, reached the oaken door leading into the apartments, felt for the latch, raised it, and gave it a loud click; but the door did not yield to the boy’s pressure, and he tried it again, and then gave it a shake. “Why, he has locked himself in, Ben!”“Has he, sir? Didn’t want to be ’sturbed, maybe.”“Perhaps he was frightened by the noise we made, and then fastened himself in,” said Roy, with a laugh.Ben chuckled at the idea.“Well, sir, not the first time we’ve frightened him, eh?”“Hush! I want to let him know who it is now knocking,” said Roy; “it is startling to be woke up in the middle of the night. Master Pawson—Master Pawson!” he said, gently; and he tapped lightly with his fingers.But there was no reply, and Roy tapped and called again, but still without result.“He’s too fast asleep to hear you, sir.”“Well, he ought to bear that,” said Roy, giving the door a good rattle, and then tapping loudly.“One would think so, sir; but he don’t seem to have his ears very wide open, or else he’s too much scared to stir.”“Master Pawson! Master Pawson!” cried Roy, loudly now; and he once more rattled the door. “How are you?”“Fast as a church, sir,” said Ben; “and I wouldn’t rattle no more, because you’ll be having the sentry up atop after us. Better go and speak to him, or he’ll be raising the guard.”Ben went up on the winding stair, and spoke to the sentry, who challenged him as he reached the top, and was much relieved on hearing his sergeant’s voice.“Didn’t know what to make of it,” he said; “and I should have fired, only my piece wouldn’t go off.”“Well, let this be a lesson to you, my lad, to keep your firelock in order.”“Yes, sergeant; I will in future.”“We might have been the enemy coming. See any more of that light, or hear any more noise over yonder?”“No, nothing.”“Not heard nothing from Master Pawson, I suppose?”“Not since he came up and spoke to me before he went to bed. Said his head was queer or something—spoke mighty pleasant, and that he was sorry for me who had to watch all night.”“Well?”“That was all; only I said I was sorry for him having such a bad head.”Ben went down to where Roy was waiting in the secretary’s door-way.“Can’t wake him, Ben. Come along; I am tired now.”“Feel as if an hour’s sleep wouldn’t do me much harm, sir,” said the old soldier; and they went on along the corridor, whose windows looked out upon the pleasaunce. “Master Pawson’s in the right of it. Once a man’s well asleep, it’s a woundy, tiresome thing to be wakened up. Good-night, sir.”“Good-morning, you mean, Ben,” said Roy, laughing.“Oh, I calls it all night till the sun’s up again, sir. You and me’ll have to try the old ruins, I s’pose, though I don’t expect we shall find anything there.”Roy went straight to his room, half undressed, and threw himself upon the bed, to begin dreaming directly that he had discovered the entrance to the secret passage at the other end, but it was so blocked up with stones and tree-roots that there was no way in, and would not be until he had persuaded his mother to do away with the garden, cut down the trees, and turn the place back into a regular court-yard such as old Ben wished.

“Going, Roy?” said Lady Royland to her son, as he rose from his seat in the library that night about an hour after Master Pawson had gone to his room, retiring early on the plea of a bad headache.

“Yes, mother; I’m going my rounds.”

Lady Royland sighed.

“It seems very hard on you, my boy—all this work and watching.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said the lad, smiling; “I’ve got used to it already. It makes everything go so regularly, and I feel sure that I have done everything to make the place safe.”

“But it is hard upon the sentries, who, but for this, would be peacefully sleeping in their beds.”

“Do us all good, mother. Good-night.”

There was an affectionate embrace, and Roy went to his room, buckled on his sword, put on his helmet, threw a large cloak over his shoulders, and then went down to the guard-room door in the great lower gate-way, to be challenged at once, and forced to give the word.

A faint light shone out from the open door upon the military figure on duty, and Roy recognised in him one of the men from the mill, completely transformed from the heavy plodding fellow who had come in to take service.

But the challenge had brought out the old sergeant, also in a cloak, although it was a hot night, and within it he swung a lighted lantern.

The drawbridge was up and the portcullis down, making the entrance look black and strange, and shutting off the outer gate, from which the day guard was withdrawn, though this had not been accomplished without trouble and persuasion, for old Jenkin had protested.

“Like giving up the whole castle to the enemy, Master Roy,” he said, with a full sense of the importance of his little square tower, and quite ignoring the fact that in the event of trouble he would be entirely cut off from his fellows if the drawbridge was raised.

But the old man gave in.

“Sodger’s dooty is to ’bey orders,” he said; and with the full understanding that he was to go back to his gate in the morning, he came into the guard-room to sleep on a bench every night.

“How is old Jenk?” said Roy.

“Fast asleep in his reg’lar place,” replied Ben, and he led the way back into the gloomy stone guard-room, where he held up the lantern over the venerable old fellow’s face, and Roy looked at him thoughtfully.

“Seems hard to understand it, Master Roy, don’t it?” said Ben; “but if we lives, you and me’ll grow to be as old as that. I expect to find some morning as he’s gone off too fast ever to wake up again.”

“Poor old fellow!” said Roy, laying his gloved band gently on the grey head. “How fond he always was of getting me to his room when I could only just toddle, and taking me to the moat to throw bread to the carp.”

“Fished you out one day, didn’t he, Master Roy!”

“To be sure, yes; I had almost forgotten that. I had escaped from the nurse and tumbled in.”

“Ah! he’s been a fine old fellow,” said Ben. “I used to think he was a great worry sticking out for doing this and doing that, when he wasn’t a bit of good and only in the way; but somehow, Master Roy, I began to feel that some day I might be just as old and stupid and no more use, and that made me fancy something else.”

“What was that, Ben?” said Roy, for the old soldier had paused.

“Well, sir, I began to think that I was growing into a vain old fool after all, or else I should have seen that old Jenk was perhaps of more use here than I am. Can’t you see, Master Roy?”

“I can’t see what you mean, Ben.”

“Why, that old chap’s about the finest sample of a reg’lar soldier that these young fellows can have. I believe if the enemy did come, that old man would draw the sword that shakes in his weak old hand, and march right away to meet ’em as bravely as the best here.”

“I’m sure he would, Ben,” said Roy, warmly.

“Then he’s one of our best men still, sir. Come on—I mean give the order, sir, and let’s go our rounds.”

Then, in the silence of the dark night, Roy led the way to the winding stair, and mounted silently to the ramparts, closely followed by Ben with the blinded lantern, and on reaching the top, they walked on to the left to the south-west tower; but before they could reach it a firm voice challenged them from the top. Then after giving the pass they went on through the tower and out onto the western ramparts, turning now to where the north-west tower loomed up all in darkness.

“Master Pawson’s abed, sir,” whispered Ben.

“Yes; not well,” was the reply, in the same low tone.

But there was no challenge from here, and Roy walked silently in at the arched door-way, passed the secretary’s door, and mounted the stair to severely admonish the sentry who was not keenly on the alert.

“Don’t let him off easy, Master Roy,” whispered Ben; “we might have been an enemy, sir, for aught he could tell.”

This was spoken with the sergeant’s lips to his young master’s ear, and a few moments later Roy was at the top of the little turret, and stood there in the door-way ready to pounce upon the man whom he expected to find asleep.

But to his great satisfaction the sentry was well on the alert, for he was kneeling at one of the crenelles, reaching out as far as he could, and evidently watching something away to the north, while all was so still and dark that the movement of a fish or water-rat in the deep moat below sounded loud and strange.

Roy stepped out silently, crossed the narrow leads, andstood looking in the same direction as the sentinel; but he could make out nothing, and he was about to speak when the man, who had suddenly divined his presence, sprang up and clapped his hand to his sword.

“Stand!” he cried, hoarsely.

Roy gave the word, and Ben stepped out of the door-way to his side.

“Why, sir, you quite scared me,” faltered the man; “I didn’t hear you come.”

“You should have heard,” said Roy, sternly. “What were you watching there?”

“That’s what I don’t know, sir. I see a light out yonder somewheres about where them old stones is on the hill. And then I thought I heard talking, but that’s quarter of an hour ago.”

Both Roy and his companion had a good long look, but there was nothing to see or hear; and after admonishing the man to keep an eye upon the place, they descended and visited the sentries on the north-east and south-east towers, to find them well upon thequi vive.

After this they descended, and Ben led the way to the armoury, where he set the lantern on the table, took a spare candle from a box, and a bunch of keys from a drawer.

“May mean nothing, Master Roy; but I don’t understand what light there could be up nigh the old chapel ruins, nor who could be talking there at this time of night.”

“Not likely to be anything wrong, Ben, because if they had been enemies, they would not have shown a light.”

“Signal perhaps, sir.”

“Well, they wouldn’t have talked aloud.”

“Don’t suppose they did, sir. Sound runs in a still, dark night like this. Well, anyways it seems to me as it’s quite time we had a good look round to see if there’s a hole anywhere in the bottom of the pot, so if you’re ready, so am I. Only say the word.”

“Forward!” cried Roy; and, going first with the lantern, Ben led the way along the corridor to the head of a flight of stone steps, down which they went to the underground passage, which with groined roof ran right along all four sides of the castle. The dark place seemed full of whispering echoes, as they went on past door after door leading into cellar and dungeon, all now turned into stores; for the great mass of provender brought in by Farmer Raynes’s wagons had here been carefully packed away, the contents of each place being signified by a white, neatly painted number, duly recorded in a book where the account of what number so-and-so indicated was carefully written in Master Pawson’s best hand, since he had eagerly undertaken the duties of clerk.

At each corner of the castle basement, the passage expanded into a circular crypt with a huge stone pillar, many feet in diameter, in the middle, from which radiated massive arches to rest on eight smaller pillars. This radial series of arches supported one of the towers, and, after passing the one to the north-east, Ben led on with his lantern along the passage running to the tower at the north-west corner, the dim light casting strange shadows behind, which seemed to be moving in pursuit of the two silent figures, urged on by the whispering echoes of their steps.

The pavement was smooth and perfectly dry, as were the massive stone walls; and as they went on, Roy fell into a musing fit, and thought of what a strongly built place Royland castle was, and how in times of emergency, if a garrison were hard pressed and had to yield rampart and tower to a powerful enemy, they would still have these passages and crypts as a place of refuge from which, if a bold defence were made, it would be impossible to dislodge them.

Apparently mind does influence mind under certain circumstances, for, just as Roy had arrived at this point, Ben stopped short and turned.

“Look here, Master Roy,” he said, “you ought, now we’re getting in pretty good order, to do two things.”

“Yes; what are they?”

“Have that there stone gallows on the ramparts put a bit in order. It wants a few stones and some mortar.”

“Why should I have that put in order?” said Roy, shortly.

“Case you want to hang any traitors, sir, for giving notice to the enemy of what we’re doing, or trying to open the gates to ’em.”

“I shall never want to hang any traitors,” said Roy, sternly.

“I don’t s’pose you will, sir; but it’s just as well to let people see that you could if you wanted to. Might keep us from having any.”

“I will not let the garrison see that I could have any such mistrust of the men who have come bravely up to help to protect my father’s property.”

“Well, Master Roy, that sounds handsome, and I like the idea of it: it’s cheering-like to a man who tries to do his best. But all people don’t think same as we do, and whenever we hear of a castle being attacked and defended, there were always people outside trying to make traitors of those who were in, and temptation’s a nasty, cunning, ’sinuating sort of a thing. But you’re castellan, and you ought to do as you please.”

“I will, Ben, over that, at all events. Fancy what my mother would think if I were to be making preparations for such a horror.”

“Hum! yes, sir. What would she think? That’s a queer thing, Master Roy, isn’t it, what a deal mothers have to do with how a man does, whether he’s a boy or whether he’s growed up?”

“Why, of course they have. It is natural.”

“Yes, sir; I suppose it is,” said the old soldier, as he went on. “You wouldn’t think it, perhaps, of such a rough ’un as me, and at my time o’ life, but I never quite get my old woman out of my head.”

“I don’t see how any one could ever forget his mother,” said Roy, flushing a little.

“He can’t, sir,” said Ben, sharply; “what she taught him and said always sticks to the worst of us. The pity of it is, that we get stoopid and ashamed of it all—nay, not all, for it comes back, and does a lot of good sometimes, and—pst!—pst!—if we talk so loud we shall be waking Master Pawson. But I say, Master Roy, it won’t do, really. Look at that now!”

They were close to the circular crypt beneath the north-west tower, and Ben was holding up his lantern towards the curve of the arches on his left.

“Roots! coming through between the stones.”

“Yes, sir, that’s it. Only the trees her ladyship had planted, and that’s the beginning of pulling this corner of the castle down. There’s nothing like roots for that job. Cannon-balls’ll do it, and pretty quickly too; but give a tree time, and it’ll shake stone away from stone, and let the water come in, and then the frost freezes it, and soon it’s all over with the strongest tower ever made. Do ’ee now ask her to have ’em cut down, and the roots burned.”

“I’m not going to ask anything of the sort, Ben,” said Roy, shortly. “Now about this passage. You think it must run somewhere from here.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the old soldier, as he stood now under one of the arches of the crypt and raised his lantern to open a door. “There, now we can see a bit better. If there is such a place, it starts, I suppose, from somewhere here.”

He walked slowly round the place, holding the lantern into the recesses, eight of which appeared between the pillars surrounding that in the centre.

“But there’s plenty of room here for storing sacks or anything else, and you can have doors made to those two that haven’t got any, if you like.”

Roy walked into one of these recesses—cellar-like places of horse-shoe curve, going in a dozen feet, and then ending in a flat wall.

“Which way am I looking here, Ben?” said Roy.

“Out’ards, sir; you’re standing about level with the bottom of the moat, or pretty nigh thereabouts. You’re—yes—that’s where you are, just at the nor’-west corner, and the moat turns there.”

“Then the places on each side here face the moat, one to the north, the other to the west.”

“Well, not exactly, sir, but nearly.”

“Then the secret passage can’t begin at the end of either of these, and been built up.”

“I dunno, sir. Folk in the past as had to do with them passages did all they could to make ’em cunning.”

“But they couldn’t have made a passage through the moat.”

“Of course not, sir; it must have gone under it.”

“Then it couldn’t have started from here.”

“Why not, sir?” said Ben, with a low laugh; “what’s to prevent there being another dungeon like this on the other side of the wall there, one with a trap-door in it leading down ever so many steps into another place, and the passage begin ten or twenty foot deeper.”

“Something like the powder-magazine is made?”

“That’s it, sir. We’re in the lower part of a big round tower, and we know there’s those floors above us one on top of the other, and we don’t know that the old Roylands who built this place mayn’t have dug down and down before they started it, and made one, two, or three floors below where we stand.”

“What? Dug right down? Impossible!”

“They dug down that time as deep into the old stone to make the big well, sir.”

“Of course; then it is possible.”

“Possible, sir? Oh yes; look at the secret passages there are in some old walls, made just in the thickness, and doors leading into ’em just where you wouldn’t expect ’em to be. Up a chimney, perhaps, or a side of a window. I heered tell of one as was quite a narrow door, just big enough for a man to pass through, and you didn’t walk into it, because it wasn’t upright; but you got into it by crawling through a square hole with a thin stone door which fell back after you were through. Then you stood up, and could go half round the old house it was in.”

“Well,” said Roy, “if there is such a passage, we must find it; but if it has been built up, we might have to pull half the place down.”

“Yes, sir; but first of all, we’ll have a good look in these cellars, for it mayn’t have been built up, and we may find it easily enough. Begin then, and let’s try.”

Ben trimmed the candle with his forefinger and thumb, making the flame brighter, and then holding the light close to the flat face of the wall, they examined stone after stone; but as far as they could make out, they had not been tampered with since the day the masons concluded their task.

Then the curved walls right and left were examined quickly, as they were little likely to contain a concealed opening; lastly, the flags on the floor, and, finally, Ben drew his sword and softly tapped each in turn.

But not one gave forth a hollow sound. Everything was solid, even the walls at the back.

“Let’s try the other open one, sir,” said Ben, and they continued their investigations in this place, which was precisely similar to the first, and yielded the same results.

Then the keys of the great bunch Ben carried were tried on one fast-closed door of oak, studded with square nails much corroded by rust, but it was not until the last key had been thrust in that with a harsh creaking the bolt of the ponderous lock shot back; and then it required the united efforts of both to get the door to turn upon the rusty hinges.

Here they were met by precisely the same appearances, and the search was made, and ended by sounding with the sword pommel.

“No, sir; there’s nothing here.”

“I’m afraid not,” said Roy; “everything sounds solid.”

“Ay, sir, and solid it is.”

“But if you tap so hard, Master Pawson will hear you,” whispered Roy, as the old soldier tried the floor again.

“Maybe not, sir; but if he do, he do. Let’s hope now he’s fast asleep; you see, he’s three floors higher up.”

“But knocking sounds travel a long distance, Ben, and I’d rather he did not know.”

“Me too, sir. Well, this is only three. Let’s try the others.”

“I hope you are not going to have so much work with the finding of the key,” said Roy; “it hinders us so.”

“Plenty of time before morning, sir,” replied Ben, coolly; and after relocking the heavy low door, he tried the key he had just withdrawn upon the next door, and, to the surprise of both, it yielded easily, and was thrown open.

Again the same clean, swept-out place, with plenty of grey cobwebs; but that was all.

Upon sounding the stones, however, at the back, they fancied that they detected a suggestion of hollowness, still not enough to make Roy determine to have the wall torn down.

This place was locked and the next tried, the only satisfactory part of the business being that the key before used evidently opened all the locks in the basement of this tower; and so it proved, as one after the other the dungeons or cellars were tried with the same unsatisfactory results, for none of the eight afforded the slightest trace of the clew they sought.

At last, pretty well tired out and covered with cobwebs, they stood in the crypt while Ben lit a fresh candle, the first having burned down into the socket, with the wick swimming in molten fat, and Roy said, with a yawn—

“I wonder whether there is a passage after all, or whether it is some old woman’s tale.”

“Nay, sir, there is,” said the old soldier, solemnly. “Your father said there was, and he must have known.”

“Well, then, where is the door?” said Roy, peevishly.

“Ah! that’s what we’ve got to find out, sir. You’re tired now, and no wonder. So let’s try another night. You’re not going to give a thing up because you didn’t do it the first time.”

“I hope not,” said Roy, with another yawn; “but I am a bit tired now. I say, Ben, though, think it’s in one of the places we’ve filled up with stores?”

“I hope not, sir; that would be making too hard a job of it.”

“Stop a moment,” cried Roy, brightening up; “I have it.”

“You know where it is, sir?” cried Ben, eagerly.

“Not this end,” said Roy, laughing, “but the other.”

“What, in the old ruins? Of course.”

“Well, why not go and find that, and then trace it down to here. It would be the easiest way.”

“There is something in that, sir, certainly,” said the old soldier, thoughtfully; “ever been there, sir?”

“Once, blackberrying; but of course I never saw anything; only a rabbit or two.”

“Then if we can’t find it here after a good try or two, sir, we’ll have a walk over there some evening, though I don’t feel to like the idea of leaving the place, specially as all the gentry seem so unfriendly. Not a soul, you see, has been to see her ladyship. Looks bad, Master Roy, and as if there was more going on than we know of round about us.”

“Ah, well, never mind that,” said Roy; “let’s get back out of this chilly, echoing place. I’m fagged.”

“We’ll go back this way, sir,” said Ben; and he went on first with the lantern, till he came to one of the flights of stone steps leading up to the ground level.

“Let’s go on here, Ben,” said Roy; and, upon their reaching the corridor above, the boy looked back along it towards where the stairs went up into the corner tower, beneath which they had been so busy.

“Wonder whether Master Pawson heard us, Ben.”

“Can’t say, sir. I should fancy not, or he’d have been on the stir to know what was the matter.”

“Mightn’t have cared to stir in the dark, Ben. I say, I should like to know. Look here, he went off early to bed, because he said he was unwell. I’ll go and ask how he is. That’s a good excuse for seeing.”

“Well, so it is, sir,” said Ben, rubbing his ear; “and if he did hear anything, he’d be pretty sure to speak.”

“Of course. Then I will go. Come and light me.” Roy hurried along back with Ben following and casting the boy’s shadow before him, till they reached the arched door-way, where they went up the few stone steps in the spiral staircase, reached the oaken door leading into the apartments, felt for the latch, raised it, and gave it a loud click; but the door did not yield to the boy’s pressure, and he tried it again, and then gave it a shake. “Why, he has locked himself in, Ben!”

“Has he, sir? Didn’t want to be ’sturbed, maybe.”

“Perhaps he was frightened by the noise we made, and then fastened himself in,” said Roy, with a laugh.

Ben chuckled at the idea.

“Well, sir, not the first time we’ve frightened him, eh?”

“Hush! I want to let him know who it is now knocking,” said Roy; “it is startling to be woke up in the middle of the night. Master Pawson—Master Pawson!” he said, gently; and he tapped lightly with his fingers.

But there was no reply, and Roy tapped and called again, but still without result.

“He’s too fast asleep to hear you, sir.”

“Well, he ought to bear that,” said Roy, giving the door a good rattle, and then tapping loudly.

“One would think so, sir; but he don’t seem to have his ears very wide open, or else he’s too much scared to stir.”

“Master Pawson! Master Pawson!” cried Roy, loudly now; and he once more rattled the door. “How are you?”

“Fast as a church, sir,” said Ben; “and I wouldn’t rattle no more, because you’ll be having the sentry up atop after us. Better go and speak to him, or he’ll be raising the guard.”

Ben went up on the winding stair, and spoke to the sentry, who challenged him as he reached the top, and was much relieved on hearing his sergeant’s voice.

“Didn’t know what to make of it,” he said; “and I should have fired, only my piece wouldn’t go off.”

“Well, let this be a lesson to you, my lad, to keep your firelock in order.”

“Yes, sergeant; I will in future.”

“We might have been the enemy coming. See any more of that light, or hear any more noise over yonder?”

“No, nothing.”

“Not heard nothing from Master Pawson, I suppose?”

“Not since he came up and spoke to me before he went to bed. Said his head was queer or something—spoke mighty pleasant, and that he was sorry for me who had to watch all night.”

“Well?”

“That was all; only I said I was sorry for him having such a bad head.”

Ben went down to where Roy was waiting in the secretary’s door-way.

“Can’t wake him, Ben. Come along; I am tired now.”

“Feel as if an hour’s sleep wouldn’t do me much harm, sir,” said the old soldier; and they went on along the corridor, whose windows looked out upon the pleasaunce. “Master Pawson’s in the right of it. Once a man’s well asleep, it’s a woundy, tiresome thing to be wakened up. Good-night, sir.”

“Good-morning, you mean, Ben,” said Roy, laughing.

“Oh, I calls it all night till the sun’s up again, sir. You and me’ll have to try the old ruins, I s’pose, though I don’t expect we shall find anything there.”

Roy went straight to his room, half undressed, and threw himself upon the bed, to begin dreaming directly that he had discovered the entrance to the secret passage at the other end, but it was so blocked up with stones and tree-roots that there was no way in, and would not be until he had persuaded his mother to do away with the garden, cut down the trees, and turn the place back into a regular court-yard such as old Ben wished.

Chapter Seventeen.Farmer Raynes brings News.It was the loud blast of a trumpet which roused Roy from his slumbers to find that it was a gloriously clear morning, and that the call was bringing the little garrison together for the early parade.The trumpeter was the youngest of the three men from his father’s regiment, and consequently the call rang out in the true martial style, echoing through the garden court, and sounding exhilarating to the boy as he sprang off his bed and began to dress.It roused the jackdaws, too, from their resting-places, and sent them sailing about in the clear sunny air, their black forms reflected from the moat, and their sharp, petulant cries sounding like protests against this disturbance.For they had had a hard time of it lately. Under Ben’s superintendence every loop-hole had been cleared, every collection of nesting ruins carefully removed, and they had no other married quarters but the holes in the walls, half-shaded by the green pellitory which rooted and flourished in company with the moss, that acted as sponges to retain enough moisture for its sustenance.Roy was not long in dressing, buckling on his sword, and hurrying down to the tiny parade ground, for in his character of castellan he liked to be present every morning when the men who were to relieve the garrison assembled at the gate-way, across the moat, and waited for permission to march in.All this was rigorously carried out in true military style by the old sergeant’s management; and as Roy descended, it was to find the little garrison drawn up fully armed under Ben’s command, he and the three troopers forming the regular staff who never left the castle.Ben looked as fresh as if he had not made a night’s rest out of two hours on a form in the guard-room; and giving the word as Roy appeared, there was the twinkling and glittering of headpiece and weapon as the men presented arms, and then stood again at attention as it was carried out some two hundred and fifty years ago.Then a short inspection by the castellan followed, orders were given, and four men marched to the door-way, tramped up the staircase, and a few minutes later the ponderous drawbridge began to descend, till it spanned the moat; and at a word the men fresh from their homes marched across, to halt by the portcullis, which then began to rise slowly, the capstans creaking and cracking, till the row of spikes alone was visible as they hung like iron stalactites overhead.Another sharp order rang out, and the new-comers filed into the guard-room, from whence came the clashing of metal and the buzzing of voices as the men assumed their arms and came out one by one to fall in opposite to those whose places they were to take, and who would, in a few minutes, go into the guard-room to deposit their arms in the racks, and then be free till their short term of service recommenced, but of course ready to hurry to the castle at the first summons should a necessity arise.Everything went on according to the regular routine; the fresh men were all drawn up now, armed, the order given, and the relieved tramped into the guard-room and soon began to straggle out again, eager to troop over to a kind of buttery-hatch by the great kitchen, where a mug of milk and a hunch of bread for a refresher would be waiting for distribution, by Lady Royland’s orders, for every man.All this went on then as usual, and the old warder Jenkin had just come tottering out of the guard-room, to go and take up his customary post at the gate, the trumpeter had raised his instrument to his lips to blow a blast, and the new-comers were ready to march off to their several duties of mounting guard, drilling at the guns, and cleaning accoutrements, when there was the sound of hoofs rapidly beating the road across the moat, and directly after a figure, mounted upon a heavy cart-horse, came into sight, thundering along at full gallop. At the first glimpse it seemed as if the horse had run away with his bareheaded rider; but directly after it became plain that, though only riding saddleless, and with no rein but a halter, the big man was urging the horse forward with all his might.“Why, it must mean news!” said Roy, excitedly, as he advanced towards the drawbridge.“Ay, there’s something wrong, sir,” said Ben, gravely. “That we shall soon hear.”The armed men stood fast on one side, and those disarmed in a group on the other, waiting excitedly to see what this new thing meant.“It’s Farmer Raynes!” cried Roy.“Ay, sir, that’s who it be. He was coming with a wainload of oats this morning, and he wants help, for he has broken down, I should say.”The next minute the rider dashed up to the far gate, but did not draw rein, for he sent his horse thundering across the drawbridge before he checked the panting beast with a loud “woho!” and then threw himself off.“What’s the matter, Master Raynes?” cried Roy.“They’re here, sir,” whispered the bluff farmer, excitedly. “I’d got a wagon loaded with oats last night, and was taking ’em from Dendry Town to the farm ready for bringing on here i’ morning, when at a turn of the lane I come upon a troop of horse who surrounded the wagon at once, and a couple of ’em led me, whip and all, up to their officer, a lank-looking, yellow-faced fellow, who was sitting on his horse just under a tree.“‘Where are you taking that grain?’ says he.“‘On the king’s service,’ says I. ‘To Royland Castle.’“His yellow wrinkly face grinned all over, and he turned and gave orders to an officer by him; and then I knew I’d made a mistake. For they were all well-mounted, and in a regular trooper’s uniform, and I thought I’d happened upon one of the king’s regiments, instead of which they were a pack of Roundhead rabble; and I had to drive the team back with the oats to their headquarters at Dendry Town. There they made me open a sack to feed their horses; and after that I was told I was a prisoner, and that my wagon and team was taken for the use of the state.”“Dendry Town—ten miles away,” said Roy, thoughtfully.“Many on ’em?” said Ben, sourly.“There was about fifty as took me,” said the farmer; “and I should say there were seven or eight hundred in the town swarming all over the place.”“But how did you get away, Raynes?”“Left it till this morning, sir, when I was feeding my horses, after emptying a couple of sacks for theirs. Waited till there was a chance, and then I jumped on old Ball here, who can go like fun when he gets warm, and galloped off. They shot at me, and I heard the bullets whistle, and then about a dozen came in pursuit, galloping after me till we got within sight of the towers; and then they drew back, and here I am. I thought you ought to know somehow that the enemy was so near.”“Then they’re not a mere rabble of men?”“Not they, sir. Reg’lar soldiers, and they’ve got big guns in the market-place. Quite a little army.”“Thank you, Raynes,” said Roy, gravely. “It was very good and brave of you to bring the news like this. Halt there, men. Take your arms again. We shall perhaps have some work to do.” Then briefly giving his orders, which had long enough before been arranged between him and Ben, the latter led one little party to the south-west tower, and the corporal took another to the north-west, while Roy himself mounted with a party into the gate tower, where at his word of command the portcullis dropped with a loud clang, and directly after the drawbridge began to rise till it was back in the position it always occupied by night.This part of the business of preparation for unwelcome visitors being accomplished, Roy mounted to the leads, where he placed a sentry to keep a good lookout, and then turned to see if his men were ready.They stood in a group on each tower waiting, Ben and the corporal swinging a port-fire from time to time to keep it well in a glow; and then standing on the breastwork above the machicolations, Roy looked out as far as he could see in search of enemies, where, however, all looked beautiful and at peace.But it could be no false alarm. The time for action had come; and, turning to the right, he waved his hands, turned to the left, and did likewise; and directly after a puff of grey smoke darted out from the top of each tower, followed by two rapidly succeeding peals like thunder, which echoed through the castle, making the jackdaws fly out of their resting-places to wheel round, crying vociferously.“Now,” said Roy to himself, “the staff is ready. It’s time to raise the king’s flag.”But the flag was still in Lady Royland’s hands, and the boy descended to cross to her private apartments and fetch it away.But half-way across the pleasaunce he encountered Master Pawson, looking wild-eyed, pale, and strange.“What is the matter?” he cried. “What is that firing for?”“The enemy are near, Master Pawson,” said Roy, quietly; “and I suppose that before long they will pay us a visit.”“But the guns—why were the guns fired?”“As a signal, of course, for our men to gather, and for such of the village people as like to take refuge here. I thought you knew.”“I? No. I did not know. But the people will not come,” said the secretary, with undue excitement; and he now looked very pale indeed.“It will be rather hard, though, if they do not, after all this drilling and teaching.”“Oh! those men may,” said the secretary, hastily. “I meant the people from the village.”“Well, we shall see,” said Roy.“But what makes you say that the enemy are near?” said the secretary, giving him a searching look.“The messenger who brought the news. Farmer Raynes.”“Farmer Raynes?”“Yes; he was taken and escaped.”At that moment Ben came up with a grim look of satisfaction upon his countenance.“Morning, sir,” he said to the secretary. “You see the enemy have found us out. Ready for them?”“I? What do you mean?”“Ready to doctor some of us as gets our heads and legs knocked off by cannon-balls. I beg pardon, Master Roy, sir, her ladyship’s a-signalling to you yonder. What does she say to the enemy coming?”“My mother!” said Roy, excitedly, as he caught sight of her at one of the corridor windows. “I have not seen her yet.”

It was the loud blast of a trumpet which roused Roy from his slumbers to find that it was a gloriously clear morning, and that the call was bringing the little garrison together for the early parade.

The trumpeter was the youngest of the three men from his father’s regiment, and consequently the call rang out in the true martial style, echoing through the garden court, and sounding exhilarating to the boy as he sprang off his bed and began to dress.

It roused the jackdaws, too, from their resting-places, and sent them sailing about in the clear sunny air, their black forms reflected from the moat, and their sharp, petulant cries sounding like protests against this disturbance.

For they had had a hard time of it lately. Under Ben’s superintendence every loop-hole had been cleared, every collection of nesting ruins carefully removed, and they had no other married quarters but the holes in the walls, half-shaded by the green pellitory which rooted and flourished in company with the moss, that acted as sponges to retain enough moisture for its sustenance.

Roy was not long in dressing, buckling on his sword, and hurrying down to the tiny parade ground, for in his character of castellan he liked to be present every morning when the men who were to relieve the garrison assembled at the gate-way, across the moat, and waited for permission to march in.

All this was rigorously carried out in true military style by the old sergeant’s management; and as Roy descended, it was to find the little garrison drawn up fully armed under Ben’s command, he and the three troopers forming the regular staff who never left the castle.

Ben looked as fresh as if he had not made a night’s rest out of two hours on a form in the guard-room; and giving the word as Roy appeared, there was the twinkling and glittering of headpiece and weapon as the men presented arms, and then stood again at attention as it was carried out some two hundred and fifty years ago.

Then a short inspection by the castellan followed, orders were given, and four men marched to the door-way, tramped up the staircase, and a few minutes later the ponderous drawbridge began to descend, till it spanned the moat; and at a word the men fresh from their homes marched across, to halt by the portcullis, which then began to rise slowly, the capstans creaking and cracking, till the row of spikes alone was visible as they hung like iron stalactites overhead.

Another sharp order rang out, and the new-comers filed into the guard-room, from whence came the clashing of metal and the buzzing of voices as the men assumed their arms and came out one by one to fall in opposite to those whose places they were to take, and who would, in a few minutes, go into the guard-room to deposit their arms in the racks, and then be free till their short term of service recommenced, but of course ready to hurry to the castle at the first summons should a necessity arise.

Everything went on according to the regular routine; the fresh men were all drawn up now, armed, the order given, and the relieved tramped into the guard-room and soon began to straggle out again, eager to troop over to a kind of buttery-hatch by the great kitchen, where a mug of milk and a hunch of bread for a refresher would be waiting for distribution, by Lady Royland’s orders, for every man.

All this went on then as usual, and the old warder Jenkin had just come tottering out of the guard-room, to go and take up his customary post at the gate, the trumpeter had raised his instrument to his lips to blow a blast, and the new-comers were ready to march off to their several duties of mounting guard, drilling at the guns, and cleaning accoutrements, when there was the sound of hoofs rapidly beating the road across the moat, and directly after a figure, mounted upon a heavy cart-horse, came into sight, thundering along at full gallop. At the first glimpse it seemed as if the horse had run away with his bareheaded rider; but directly after it became plain that, though only riding saddleless, and with no rein but a halter, the big man was urging the horse forward with all his might.

“Why, it must mean news!” said Roy, excitedly, as he advanced towards the drawbridge.

“Ay, there’s something wrong, sir,” said Ben, gravely. “That we shall soon hear.”

The armed men stood fast on one side, and those disarmed in a group on the other, waiting excitedly to see what this new thing meant.

“It’s Farmer Raynes!” cried Roy.

“Ay, sir, that’s who it be. He was coming with a wainload of oats this morning, and he wants help, for he has broken down, I should say.”

The next minute the rider dashed up to the far gate, but did not draw rein, for he sent his horse thundering across the drawbridge before he checked the panting beast with a loud “woho!” and then threw himself off.

“What’s the matter, Master Raynes?” cried Roy.

“They’re here, sir,” whispered the bluff farmer, excitedly. “I’d got a wagon loaded with oats last night, and was taking ’em from Dendry Town to the farm ready for bringing on here i’ morning, when at a turn of the lane I come upon a troop of horse who surrounded the wagon at once, and a couple of ’em led me, whip and all, up to their officer, a lank-looking, yellow-faced fellow, who was sitting on his horse just under a tree.

“‘Where are you taking that grain?’ says he.

“‘On the king’s service,’ says I. ‘To Royland Castle.’

“His yellow wrinkly face grinned all over, and he turned and gave orders to an officer by him; and then I knew I’d made a mistake. For they were all well-mounted, and in a regular trooper’s uniform, and I thought I’d happened upon one of the king’s regiments, instead of which they were a pack of Roundhead rabble; and I had to drive the team back with the oats to their headquarters at Dendry Town. There they made me open a sack to feed their horses; and after that I was told I was a prisoner, and that my wagon and team was taken for the use of the state.”

“Dendry Town—ten miles away,” said Roy, thoughtfully.

“Many on ’em?” said Ben, sourly.

“There was about fifty as took me,” said the farmer; “and I should say there were seven or eight hundred in the town swarming all over the place.”

“But how did you get away, Raynes?”

“Left it till this morning, sir, when I was feeding my horses, after emptying a couple of sacks for theirs. Waited till there was a chance, and then I jumped on old Ball here, who can go like fun when he gets warm, and galloped off. They shot at me, and I heard the bullets whistle, and then about a dozen came in pursuit, galloping after me till we got within sight of the towers; and then they drew back, and here I am. I thought you ought to know somehow that the enemy was so near.”

“Then they’re not a mere rabble of men?”

“Not they, sir. Reg’lar soldiers, and they’ve got big guns in the market-place. Quite a little army.”

“Thank you, Raynes,” said Roy, gravely. “It was very good and brave of you to bring the news like this. Halt there, men. Take your arms again. We shall perhaps have some work to do.” Then briefly giving his orders, which had long enough before been arranged between him and Ben, the latter led one little party to the south-west tower, and the corporal took another to the north-west, while Roy himself mounted with a party into the gate tower, where at his word of command the portcullis dropped with a loud clang, and directly after the drawbridge began to rise till it was back in the position it always occupied by night.

This part of the business of preparation for unwelcome visitors being accomplished, Roy mounted to the leads, where he placed a sentry to keep a good lookout, and then turned to see if his men were ready.

They stood in a group on each tower waiting, Ben and the corporal swinging a port-fire from time to time to keep it well in a glow; and then standing on the breastwork above the machicolations, Roy looked out as far as he could see in search of enemies, where, however, all looked beautiful and at peace.

But it could be no false alarm. The time for action had come; and, turning to the right, he waved his hands, turned to the left, and did likewise; and directly after a puff of grey smoke darted out from the top of each tower, followed by two rapidly succeeding peals like thunder, which echoed through the castle, making the jackdaws fly out of their resting-places to wheel round, crying vociferously.

“Now,” said Roy to himself, “the staff is ready. It’s time to raise the king’s flag.”

But the flag was still in Lady Royland’s hands, and the boy descended to cross to her private apartments and fetch it away.

But half-way across the pleasaunce he encountered Master Pawson, looking wild-eyed, pale, and strange.

“What is the matter?” he cried. “What is that firing for?”

“The enemy are near, Master Pawson,” said Roy, quietly; “and I suppose that before long they will pay us a visit.”

“But the guns—why were the guns fired?”

“As a signal, of course, for our men to gather, and for such of the village people as like to take refuge here. I thought you knew.”

“I? No. I did not know. But the people will not come,” said the secretary, with undue excitement; and he now looked very pale indeed.

“It will be rather hard, though, if they do not, after all this drilling and teaching.”

“Oh! those men may,” said the secretary, hastily. “I meant the people from the village.”

“Well, we shall see,” said Roy.

“But what makes you say that the enemy are near?” said the secretary, giving him a searching look.

“The messenger who brought the news. Farmer Raynes.”

“Farmer Raynes?”

“Yes; he was taken and escaped.”

At that moment Ben came up with a grim look of satisfaction upon his countenance.

“Morning, sir,” he said to the secretary. “You see the enemy have found us out. Ready for them?”

“I? What do you mean?”

“Ready to doctor some of us as gets our heads and legs knocked off by cannon-balls. I beg pardon, Master Roy, sir, her ladyship’s a-signalling to you yonder. What does she say to the enemy coming?”

“My mother!” said Roy, excitedly, as he caught sight of her at one of the corridor windows. “I have not seen her yet.”

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