Two days passed before Roy was able to ask what he wanted. For during
this interval General Hepburn seemed too much immersed in affairs to
more than give him a friendly nod when they met at meals. Men were
being constantly sent out with despatches, and others came. Then the
cavalry regiment was always going and coming, "sweeping the country,"
Ben said, when Roy sat talking by the old soldier, who was more injured
than he would own to, and spent most of his time on a stone seat in the
sun.
"Tchah! not I, sir," he said, peevishly. "My lady's got her hands full
enough. We chaps know how to manage with clean water, fresh bit o'
linen, and keep quiet in the sunshine, and natur' does all the rest.
We're getting on right enough.--Eh, comrades?"
"Couldn't be better," said the corporal. "Soon be ready to begin again,
Master Roy, when you see your chance."
Words like these, and a hint or two again and again from the sick men in
the hospital, could not fail to set ideas growing in Roy's brain; but
everything was confused and misty yet, and the time went on. Poor old
Jenk crept up to the four men, and always had the sunniest spot in the
corner given to him, and here he would settle himself, nursing his sword
in his lap, and go fast asleep.
"Yes, sir," said Ben, one day; "you see he's so very old. I believe
after all he's a hundred, and it's a honour to him, I say. Mean to live
to a hundred myself if I can. But see how he sleeps; I don't believe
he's quite awake more than three hours a day, and I dessay he'll just
come to an end some time in his sleep."
"Poor old fellow," said Roy, softly, as he laid his fresh young hand
upon the gnarled and withered fingers that rested upon the sword across
the old man's knees.
"Ah, he has been a good soldier in his day, Master Roy, but it's rum how
he can't see that he's not a fine strong man now! Why, you might really
nigh blow him over, and all the time he keeps on talking about what he's
going to do to Master Fiddler as soon as he gets a chance."
"What! he doesn't threaten to attack him?"
"Don't threaten, sir?" said Ben with a chuckle. "But he just do; and
then he's going to retake the castle singlehanded."
"But he mustn't have a sword; he'll be making some trouble."
"Well, if he makes an end to Master Pawson, sir, I think he may just lie
down and die at once like a regular hero, for he'll have done the finest
thing he ever did in his life."
"Oh, nonsense, Ben! You and all of you must mind the poor old fellow
does nothing foolish."
Ben growled and shook his head, for his ideas were not at all in
accordance with his young master's.
"You need not look so sour, Ben," Roy hastened to say. "Master Pawson
will get his deserts some day."
"Yes, sir," said the old soldier, sourly; "his sort generally seem to in
this precious world. His deserts seem to be your father's fine old
property to wallow in, and get fatter and rounder-faced every day. He'd
better not go and sit and read big books belonging to your father atop
of either of the towers when I'm nigh, sir, for I'll pitch him off as
sure as he plays the fiddle."
The men laughed.
"Oh, you may grin," said Ben, "but I mean it. You know, I s'pose,
Master Roy, as they've emptied his room and carried everything into your
father's library,--fiddle and all. Oh, how I should like to smash that
caterwaulin' thing!"
"I did not know it, Ben," said Roy, thoughtfully. "I keep away from
there as much as I can. But I say, Ben," he continued, smiling, as he
laid his hand upon the old soldier's knee, "your wound is hurting you a
good deal to-day."
"Awful, my lad, awful; it's getting better, but it feels as if a hungry
dog was gnawing the bone."
"I thought so."
"Why, how did you know, my lad?" said Ben, innocently.
"Only by your manner. But look here," continued Roy, "I want very badly
to see that place where the enemy got in."
"Ay, and so do I, sir. I've lain awake at nights with that place
worrying me more than my big chop as ought to ha' been well by this
time. I don't understand it yet, only I expect as he let 'em in. So he
filled all the long underground passages with the men, and got 'em there
ready to go up the towers when the signal was given? I daresay he give
it with his miserable squeak of a pipe."
"I'm going to ask General Hepburn to let me see the place."
"And he won't let you, of course. You'll have to give the sentries
something, and perhaps they may."
"No; I'm not going to do anything underhanded, Ben. I shall ask the
general himself."
"Oh come, I like that, sir," said Ben, derisively. "He didn't do
anything underhanded along with Fiddler Pawson, did he?"
"Wound shooting, Ben?" said Roy, drily.
The old soldier chuckled, and the boy rose and went straight to the
general's snug quarters in a little place adjoining the dining-room to
prefer his request.