The dawn came, and Lady Royland still knelt by the couch where her son
slept heavily. She did not stir till the sun rose, and then she rose
softly to go to the narrow slit in the massive wall, reach as far as she
could into the deep splay, and gaze out.
She sighed, for far-away in the distance she could see mounted men with
the sun flashing from their armour.
She turned back, for she had learned all she wished to know--the enemy
was still there; and, wondering what that day might bring forth, she
went and sat down now by her son's head to watch him as he slept.
The time crept on with the sounds of the awakening household mingled
with the clangour of the morning calls and the tramp of armed men
floating in through the window; but the watcher did not stir till the
door was opened, and a couple of the maids appeared, to start back in
affright, after a wondering glance at the untouched meal upon the table,
for Lady Royland rose quickly with a gesture to them to be silent.
They crept away, and she followed to the door.
"Prepare the breakfast in the library," she said, and then returned to
her seat.
The clock chimed and struck again and again, but Roy did not wake; and
at last one of the maids came and tapped very softly.
"Breakfast is quite ready, my lady," she whispered.
"I am not coming till my son wakes," replied Lady Royland. "Ask Master
Pawson not to wait."
"He's not down yet, my lady," said the woman.
"Very well: ask him not to wait when he does come. The gentlemen are
weary after the troubles of a very anxious night."
The woman went away, and Lady Royland returned to her seat, to bend over
her son again as he lay there breathing evenly, still plunged in his
deep sleep; and then at its stated intervals, the clock in the gate-way
chimed, and chimed, and struck, and struck again, to mark off the second
hour before there was another tap at the door, and the maid announced in
a whisper that Sergeant Martlet was asking for Captain Roy.
"Send him here," said her ladyship, "and bid him come in gently."
"Yes, my lady," said the woman; "and, if you please, my lady, Master
Pawson has just come down, and is having his breakfast."
"Very good," said Lady Royland, coldly, and the maid retired.
Five minutes later, the old soldier, fully armed, came softly to the
door, was admitted, and stood upon the thick carpet, saluting his lady.
She pointed to the couch, and a grim smile of satisfaction crossed the
soldier's deeply-lined face.
"He was quite worn-out and exhausted," said Lady Royland, in a whisper,
as she crossed to where Ben stood,--"too faint and troubled with the
cares and anxieties of this weary business even to eat."
"But he has slept, my lady?" whispered Ben.
"Ever since."
"Let him sleep, then, till he wakes, and he'll be right enough again."
"I hope so; but he was very low and despondent last night. He feels the
responsibility of his position so much."
"Course he does, my lady. That's his breed. His father always did.
Used to make as much fuss over one of us as went down or got a wound as
if we'd been his own children. But you let him sleep, my lady; he'll be
like a new man when he gets up. He's a wonder, my lady; that he is."
"He was afraid that the men were disposed to smile at him because he is
so young."
"I should just like to ketch one on 'em a-doing it," growled Ben. "But
it aren't true, my lady," he continued, excitedly. "They smiles when he
comes up, o' course, but it's because he seems to do 'em good, and they
can't help it, they're so pleased to see him. Why, if you'll believe
me, my lady, from Sir Granby's corporal o' dragoons down to Isaiah
Wiggens, as got nigh upon drowned being pulled across the moat last
night, my lady--"
"Oh, how horrible!"
"Horrid? Not it, my lady--begging your pardon. Sarve him right! Great
big hulking lubberly chap like that, and not able to swim!"
"But is he ill this morning?"
"Not he, my lady. He was so roasted in the guard-room after, that he
got up at daylight and went into the moat again 's morning to begin to
larn."
"But tell me, what news?"
"They're all padrolling us, my lady, same as they were last night. They
got the oats from Farmer Raynes, and they think they're going to starve
us by stopping everything else from coming in; but we can afford to
laugh at 'em for about three months; and at the end of that time, if Sir
Granby don't come and raise the siege, I've got an idee for trapping
enough meat for the men."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, my lady," said Ben, with a grin. "Only to lower the drawbridge
and hyste the portcullis, to let a whole court-yard-full ride in. Then
drop the grating behind 'em, and they're trapped. After that we can
make 'em lay down their arms, turn 'em out, and keep their horses.
They'll do to feed the men. I've eaten horse, and Sir Granby too, at a
pinch, and it aren't so bad; but o' course I'd rather have beef."
"Then there is nothing to fear for the present?"
"Aren't nothing to fear at all, past, present, or futur', my lady, so
don't you be uncomfortable. And as for Master Roy, he needn't go
thinking no nonsense o' that sort about the men, for they just worship
him, all of 'em, and that's the honest truth."
"I believe it, Martlet. Have you breakfasted this morning?"
"Had a chunk o' bread and a mug o' milk, my lady."
"That is not enough for a busy man like you are. Sit down to that
table, and eat."
"What, here, my lady! Oh, no, I couldn't presume!"
"Hush! Do not speak so loud," said Lady Royland, smiling. "These are
not times for standing upon ceremony, Martlet. We women cannot fight;
but we can help in other ways, above all in attending to our brave
defenders, and seeing that they have all that is necessary. And if the
worst comes to the worst, and--"
"Yes; I know what your ladyship means," said the old soldier, for Lady
Royland had paused, "and to be plain, the men have been talking a bit
about that same, and what they were to do if they were hurt and no
doctor here. I said--"
It was the sergeant's turn to be silent now, and he stopped as if the
words would not come.
"And what did you say?"
"Well, my lady, I took the liberty of saying that your ladyship was
training up the women, and that when one of us was lucky enough to get
wounded in the service of his king and country, he'd be carried into one
of the big rooms o' the east side, as would be turned into a hospital,
and there tied up and put to bed, and souped and jellied and pastied,
and made so much of, that he'd be sorry for the poor comrades who were
only working the guns and doing the fighting."
"You were quite right, Martlet," said Lady Royland. "Tell the men that
the wounded shall each be treated as if he were my own son."
"Begging your ladyship's pardon, that's just what I did tell 'em, only I
put a few flourishes to it, and I won't say it again, because it may
make 'em rash and wanting to get wounded for the sake of being carried
into the snug quarters, and--"
"Sit down, Martlet, and eat," said Lady Royland, pushing a chair towards
the table.
"With your ladyship's permission, I'd rather cut off a bit o' something,
and go and sit on one of the guns to eat it, and look out too. I should
enjoy it better."
"Do as you wish," said Lady Royland. "There, take that fowl and loaf."
"Thank you kindly, my lady, and--Morning, Master Roy, sir. Had a good
sleep?"
For at that moment Roy sprang from the couch and looked excitedly round.
"What is it?" he cried. "What's the matter? Morning! Surely I have
not--"
"Yes, Roy, soundly and well, all night. Come, you must be ready for
breakfast."
"Yes, yes, mother," cried the boy, impatiently.--"But tell me, Ben--Oh,
you ought not to have let me sleep all night. Here, what has happened?"
"Nothing at all, sir, or I should have sent for you," said the old
soldier, who had taken out a handkerchief, given it a shake, and spread
it upon the carpet, placed in it the roast chicken and loaf, sprinkled
all liberally with salt, and now proceeded to tie the ends of the
handkerchief across, to make a bundle. "They're a-padrolling round and
round, just as they have been all night, and keeping well out of
gunshot. Wouldn't like me to send a ball hopping along the ground to
try the range, would you, sir?"
"No, not unless they attack," said Roy, quickly.
"Thought you wouldn't, sir, when I spoke.--Thank ye for this snack, my
lady. I'll go back now to the ramparts.--P'raps you'll jyne me there,
Master Roy, when you've had your breakfast. All's well, sir; and them
ten farmers are ready to stand on their heads with joy at getting
through the enemy's ranks."
"Ah! how was it?"
"Only kept back by the sentries watching 'em; so they all went home as
if they'd done work, and agreed to crawl to our place after dark, and
creep to the gates."
"But no one was hurt?"
"No, sir; nothing worse happened to 'em than a wetting in the moat, and
that don't count, because they were well wet before with crawling
through the grass and damp ditches. See you in 'bout an hour's time
then, sir?"
Roy nodded shortly, and the man left the room with his bundle; while
Roy, uneasy still in mind, turned to his mother, who embraced him
tenderly.
"You will not be long, Roy, my dear?" she said. "I want my breakfast,
too."
"But surely, mother, you have not been sitting up all night while I
slept?"
"Indeed, yes," she said, merrily. "And many a time before last night,
when you were a tiny thing and could not sleep. Last night you could,
peacefully and well, to awake this morning strong mentally and bodily,
to do your duty like my brave son."
Roy winced; but there was something in his mother's look which told him
that his words of the past night were as if uttered only to himself, and
that the subject of their conversation must be buried in the past.
"You will not be long?" said Lady Royland, as she went to the door.
"No, mother; not above ten minutes. Quite enough for a soldier's
toilet," he said, cheerily. And she nodded and went off; while he
hurried to his own room, and after plunging his face in the fresh cold
water felt such a healthy glow coming through his veins, that he was
ready to wonder at the previous night's depression.
"What a glorious morning!" he muttered. "Couldn't have been well last
night.--Hope my mother didn't think me stupid.--What a shame to let her
sit up there all night!--Why, how hungry I do feel!--And only to think
of our getting those fellows in quite safe after all.--Ha, ha, ha! how
mad the enemy must have felt."
Roy was standing before a mirror combing his wet locks as he burst out
into a hearty laugh, full of enjoyment; but he checked it directly, and
stood staring at himself in wonder as the thoughts of the past night
intruded, and he remained for a few moments puzzled to account for the
change that a long rest had wrought in him.
The next minute he was hurrying with his sword and belt under his arm to
the breakfast-room, where he found his mother waiting, and Master
Pawson, who looked very pale, in conversation with her.
"Good-morning, Roy," he said. "I congratulate you upon the accession to
the strength of the garrison. The men are all in the highest spirits,
and full of praise of the gallant way in which you drove the enemy
back."
"Then I shall have to undeceive them, Master Pawson," replied Roy, as he
joined his mother at the table. "It was in the dark, and they could not
see. All Ben Martlet's doing from beginning to end."
"I'm afraid you are too modest," said the secretary, smiling, as Roy
began his breakfast with a splendid appetite. "And tell me," he
continued, anxiously--"I ought not to ask, perhaps, but I take such
interest in the proceedings--you will not listen to any proposals for
surrender, even on good terms, which may come from the enemy?"
"What capital ham, mother," said Roy. Then turning to the secretary: "I
wouldn't have listened to any proposals for surrender without those ten
men, Master Pawson. When all the guns are disabled and the powder done,
and nearly everybody wounded, I won't surrender; for you'll put on a
helmet and back-piece then, and come and help the maids throw down
stones upon their heads, and--yes, we shall have to use the
machicolations then; but it shall be hot water for the enemy, not hot
lead. The women can manage the boiling water better than the metal.
Surrender! Bah! I say, sit down and have some more breakfast. I'm too
busy to talk."
"Ah! what a spirit you have," cried the secretary, with a look of
admiration in the lad's face. "But you are right. No surrender upon
any terms; and if you talk much more like this, Roy, you will inspire
me. I, too, shall want to fight, or at least help to load the guns."
"I hope you won't," thought Roy; "for I'd a great deal rather you would
stop away."
Ten minutes later he was buckling on his sword, without a trace of the
last night's emotion visible on his countenance.
"I'll go down to the great gate," said the secretary. "You will join me
there?"
"Yes, directly. But I say, Master Pawson, I hope you managed to make
shift at your new bedroom."
"Don't mention it. I shall be all right.--For the present, Lady
Royland!" And the secretary left the room.
"No surrender, Roy, my boy."
"No, mother; and--and--last night, I--"
"Was tired out, and no wonder. No--hush! Not another word. Some day
when all is at peace once more, I will reopen the subject in your
father's presence. Till then, it is our mutual confidence. There, go
and show yourself to the men, and see how they will greet you on this
bonnie, sunny day."
The boy hurried out with burning cheeks, and they seemed to scorch as he
found his mother's flower-beds trampled down, and the whole strength of
the garrison on parade; for the moment he appeared, discipline seemed to
be at an end, swords and muskets, adorned with steel caps, were waving
in the air, while the flag flew out bravely from the great tower
overhead, as if fluttered by the wind of the great hearty cheer which
arose as he marched to the front, saluting as he went.
"Ah!" he sighed to himself, as his blood seemed to effervesce, and a
thrill ran through his nerves, "who could be a coward at a time like
this?"