The day passed anxiously on, and it was getting well towards sunset, but
there was no sign of the farm men, neither did the enemy appear in
sight. Farmer Raynes appealed to Roy again and again for permission to
go in search of his people; but, anxious as the young castellan was for
news, he could not risk losing one of the strongest and most dependable
men he had.
"They may get here yet, Master Raynes," he said; "and I'd give anything
to see them; but I'd rather lose the swords of all ten than lose yours."
"Mean that, Master Roy?" said the bluff farmer, looking at him
searchingly.
"Mean it? Of course!"
"Thank ye, sir. Then I'll stop; but I feel as if I'd failed you at a
pinch by only coming alone."
"Then don't think so again," said Roy, "but help me all you can with the
men, for I'm afraid we are going to have a hard fight to save the
place."
"Oh, we'll save it, sir. Don't you fear about that," said Raynes; and
he went away to join Ben and talk about the chances of the party
reaching the castle.
In the guard-room the matter was also eagerly discussed; for the help of
ten sturdy lads was badly needed, as all knew. Sam Donny, who was
rather inflated by the success which had attended him and his companions
that day, gave it as his opinion that the labourers had been taken
prisoners solely because they had not thought to go down and crawl as he
and his companions had that day.
Roy had hurriedly snatched a couple of meals, and tried to cheer his
mother about their prospects, but to his surprise, he found that she was
ready to try and console him about the loss of ten good strong men.
"But do you think they have thought better of it, and are afraid to come
in?" said Master Pawson at their hurried dinner.
"No, I do not," said Roy. "I will not insult the poor fellows by
thinking they could be such curs."
"Quite right, Roy," said the secretary, eagerly. "I was wrong. I'm
afraid I understand books better than I do men. Yes; they must have
been taken prisoners, I'm afraid."
The evening meal had just been commenced when there was a shout from one
of the towers.
Roy hurried out, full of hope that the ten men had been descried; but he
was soon undeceived, for on mounting to his favourite post of
observation it was to see that a long line of horseman was approaching
from the direction of Dendry Town, the orange sunlight making their arms
glitter as they came gently on, spreading out to a great length, till at
last Ben gave it as his opinion that there were at least five hundred
men.
Hardly had he come to this conclusion when another body of men was
descried approaching from the east, and in the face of this danger the
drawbridge was raised, the portcullis lowered, and a trumpet-call
summoned the men to the guns.
"They mean it then to-night, Ben," said Roy, whose heart now beat fast,
and he turned to the old soldier, who, with a grim look of pride in his
face, was affixing the silken flag to the rope, ready for hauling up
when the enemy drew near.
Before Ben could reply, to Roy's surprise, Lady Royland came up the
spiral stairs, and stepped out upon the leads, followed by Master
Pawson, who looked sallow of aspect, but perfectly calm.
"You here, mother?"
"Yes, my boy; and why should I not be? I am visiting all the towers to
thank the men for their brave conduct in coming here for our defence.
How many do you muster now?"
"Thirty-six only," replied Roy.
"Well, thirty-six brave men are better than five hundred cowards.--How
many men do you think there are coming against us, Martlet?"
"Seven or eight hundred, my lady."
"And will they attack this evening?"
"No, my lady; they don't come to attack strongholds with mounted men.
They're coming to call upon us to throw open the gates and surrender the
place; and this is the answer, I think, my lady, is it not?" and he
pointed to the flag.
"Yes, Martlet," said Lady Royland, flushing; "that is our answer to such
an insolent demand."
She turned and left the tower, attended by Master Pawson, and Roy
remained there watching the long line of mounted men approaching with
their arms glittering in the light. "Seven or eight hundred," he said,
half aloud, "against thirty-six."
"Haven't counted the guns, Master Roy, nor the moat, nor the towers, nor
all the other strong things we have. Pah! what's a regiment of horse
against a place like this? But they know, and they're only coming to
bully us, sir."
"I hope you are right, Ben," said the lad, seriously; and he waited for
the approach of the men till they were halted about a couple of hundred
yards away from the tower on which he stood, forming up in squadrons;
and after a time an officer, bearing a little white flag, advanced,
followed at a short distance by a couple of troopers. Roy's heart beat
fast, for he felt that a crucial time had come.
"You'll have to go down, Master Roy; and we must lower the bridge for
you to go out and meet him and hear what he has to say."
"Must I, Ben?"
"Of course, sir; and, if you give the order, the corporal and I will
come behind you as your guard."
"And suppose, when the bridge is down, the others make a rush?"
"Flag o' truce, sir. But if they did, our guns would sweep 'em away."
"And what about us, Ben?"
"Well, sir," said the old fellow, drily, "we should be swep' away too."
"I say, Ben!"
"Yes, sir, sounds nasty; but soldiers has to take their chance o' that
sort o' thing, and look at the honour and glory of it all. Ready, sir?"
"Yes," said Roy, in a husky voice; and a minute later he stood with the
two martial-looking figures behind, and the drawbridge slowly descended
in front. The two guns were manned, a small guard of three was behind
each, and the port-fires sparkled and shot tiny little flashes of fire
as if eager to burst out into flame.
Just then, as Roy was watching the heads of the three mounted men coming
slowly forward, and, as the end of the bridge sank, seeing their chests,
the horses' heads, and finally their legs come into sight, Ben leaned
towards him, and said, in a whisper--
"They don't know how young you are, sir. Let 'em hear my dear old
colonel speaking with your lips."
"Yes," said Roy, huskily; "but what am I to say, Ben?"
"You don't want no telling, sir. Advance now."
The officer had halted his men about fifty yards from the outer gate,
and rode forward a few paces before drawing rein and waiting for some
action on the part of those he had come to see; and he looked rather
surprised as they stepped forward now, crossed the bridge, and advanced
to meet him. For he had not anticipated to find such careful
preparations, nor to see the personage who came to meet him in so
perfect a military trim, and supported by a couple of soldiers whose
bearing was regular to a degree.
The officer was a grim, stern, hard-looking, middle-aged man, and his
garb and breastplate were of the commonest and plainest description. He
seemed to glance with something like contempt at the elegantly fluted
and embossed armour the boy was wearing, and, above all, at the gay sash
Lady Royland's loving hands had fastened across his breast. But his
attention was keen as he scanned the soldierly bearing of Ben and the
corporal, and a feeling of envy filled his breast as he compared them
with his own rough following. Perhaps he would not have thought so much
if he had seen the rest of the garrison, but they were too distant.
Roy saluted the officer, and drew a deep breath as he tried to string up
his nerves till they were stretched like a bow. For Ben's words had
gone home, and he felt fully how big a part he had to play.
The officer saluted in response in a quick, abrupt manner, and said
shortly:
"I come from the general commanding the army here in the west, to demand
that you give up peaceable possession of this castle, once the property
of the rebel, Sir Granby Royland, who is now in arms against the
Parliament of England."
Roy gave a start at the word "rebel," and felt the hot blood rise to his
cheeks. That insult acted like a spur. The nervous trepidation had
gone, for there was no room for it alongside of the anger which flashed
through him. Ben was right: the boy knew what to say. It was there
ready, and only wanted bringing out.
"Look here, sir!" he cried, sharply; "you come here under a flag of
truce to deliver a message, but that does not warrant insolence."
"Insolence?" said the officer, sternly.
"Yes. I hold no parley with a man who dares to call my father, King
Charles's faithful servant, a rebel."
"Then go back, boy, and send your mother to make the arrangement for
handing over the keys of the castle," said the officer, with a smile of
contempt, "for I suppose the Dame Royland is here."
"Lady Royland is here, sir; and I, her son, tell you to inform your
rebel general that we here recognise no authority but that of his
majesty the king, and that we consider it a piece of insolent
braggadocio for him to send such a demand."
"Indeed!" said the officer, laughing. "Well crowed, young game-cock!"
"Yes," muttered Ben; "and you mind his spurs."
"Have you anything more to say?" cried Roy.
"Yes; a good deal, my boy, and I will not notice your young, hot-blooded
words. You have allowed your men to perform an act this morning that
may mean serious consequences for you."
"I do not understand your meaning, sir."
"Yes, you do, boy," said the officer, sternly. "You allowed your men to
fire upon a picket of our cavalry."
"Of course. You allowed your cavalry, as you term them, to try and ride
down six unarmed men on their way to the castle, and I gave orders for
them to be stopped, and they were stopped."
"I have no time to argue these things with you, sir. I have only this
to say: if you give up the keys to me at once, your people can disperse
unharmed to their homes, and Dame Royland and her son can depart with
such personal effects as she desires, to go wherever she pleases, and an
escort will be provided for her protection."
"And, if she declines this offer, sir, as my father's steward of his
estates and possessions?"
"Your father has neither estate nor possessions now, my boy; he is a
proclaimed rebel. If this kindly offer is refused, and you are both so
weak and vain as to resist, the place will be battered down and left in
ruins, while the sufferings and slaughter of your people will be at your
door. Now, sir, briefly, what message am I to take back to the
commanding officer?"
"God save the king!" cried Roy, warmly.
"That is no answer, sir--only the vain cry of an enthusiastic, misled
boy. What am I to say to the general in chief?"
"That Lady Royland will hold Royland Castle in the king's name as long
as one stone stands upon another, and she has a brave following to
fight."
The officer raised his hand in salute, turned his horse and rode back,
while Roy stood there with his heart throbbing as he watched the three
figures depart, and wondered whether it was really he who had spoken, or
all this scene in the deepening evening were part of a feverish dream.
He was brought back to the present by the deep gruff voice of Ben.
"There, sir," he said, with a look of pride at the boy in whose training
he had had so large a share, "I knew you could."
At the same moment Roy glanced at the corporal, who smiled and saluted
him proudly.
"I only wish, sir," he said, "that the colonel had been here."
Roy turned to recross the bridge, feeling as if, in spite of all, this
was part of a dream, when something on high began to flutter over the
great gate tower, and glancing up, it was to see there in front, gazing
down at them as she leaned forward in one of the embrasures, Lady
Royland.
"What is it to be, Roy?" she cried, as he came closer. "Peace or war?"
"War!" he replied, sternly; and the sound seemed to be whispered in many
tones through the great archway as the portcullis fell with its heavy
clang and the drawbridge began to rise.