Roy looked back from the window-splay.
"Friends!" he panted. "Ben, up with you, and lower the bridge;" and as
the old sergeant sprang to the staircase, followed by five more, the
others seized the capstan-bars and began to hoist the portcullis; while,
sword in hand, Roy stood on the narrow stair, determined to die sooner
than an enemy should pass.
But the next minute the bridge was down, with the defenders in ignorance
of what was going on; the first knowledge they had of what was to come
being given by the thunder of the horses' hoofs, and a deafening cheer
as the Cavaliers dashed in.
That charge decided the fight, for in less than five minutes, in spite
of the officer's desperate valour, the defenders broke and fled, to take
refuge in corridor and chamber, from whence they could fire upon their
enemies.
But, half-mad now with excitement, and flushed by the certainty of
victory, the Cavaliers, headed by Sir Granby Royland, went in pursuit,
chasing the Parliamentary party through the passages, never giving them
time to combine, capturing knot after knot, and forcibly driving the
rest below, where, feeling that all was over, their captain ended the
carnage by offering to surrender. Then the triumphant Cavaliers
gathered in the court-yard, waving hat and sword in the bright light of
the burning building, and raising the echoes with their shouts.
It was about this time that Roy, followed by his little party, sought
out his father, to find him at last, busy, like the careful soldier he
was, stationing men at the towers, and then arranging for a proper
defence of the great gap in the castle side, though temporarily it was
now well defended by a line of flames that no man could pass.
Roy gazed in dismay at the blackened, blood-stained man, bleeding from
two fresh wounds, and was ready to wonder whether this was the gallant,
handsome cavalier who had left the castle to go on the king's service so
short a time before.
"Ah! my brave, true boy!" cried Sir Granby, catching him by the
shoulders; "old Martlet tells me how you led them to open a way for our
friends. It was the work of a good soldier, Roy. You'll be a general
yet. What do you say?" he continued, with a laugh; "as I am now?
There, everything is safe for the present. Where is your mother? Am I
fit to see her, though?"
Roy said nothing, but clung to the hand that grasped his; and a few
minutes later Sir Granby was locked in his wife's arms.
By this time a strong party had been formed to attack the flames; and as
there was an abundance of water from the moat, the day broke upon the
quenching of the last burst of fire, and revealed a sad scene of
desolation, the side of the castle on the east being one long hollow
range of burnt-out buildings, saving the hospital-room, which had
escaped, with a wide gap of tottering and piled-up ruins where the
magazine had exploded, hurling great masses of stone into the court-yard
and the moat.
The fire mastered, Sir Granby commenced forming a rough breastwork of
the stones, using for the most part all that could be dragged from the
moat, the Cavaliers wading in and working like labourers to strengthen
the breach, which towards evening began to look strong with the rough
platforms made for the enemy's three heavy guns. The work was so far
completed none too soon, for just at dusk a body of men was seen
approaching in the distance, and General Hepburn soon after appeared, to
find that he had been outwitted in turn, and that a long siege would be
necessary before he could hope to be master of the place again.
That long siege followed; and at last, weakened by loss of men and
reduced from want of food, the Cavaliers were unable to combat the
terrible assault delivered by the little army that had gradually been
gathered about the walls, and the castle fell once more into the hands
of the Parliamentarians, who were generous enough to treat the gallant
defenders with the honours they deserved.
"But they would never have taken it, Roy," said Sir Granby, "if that gap
had not been blown out. I'd give something to know how it occurred.
Could it have been done by that villain Pawson out of despite?"
It was long before the truth was known, when, after years of exile with
his wife and son, Sir Granby Royland returned to take possession of his
ruined castle and estate. For the young king had ridden into London,
and his father's defenders were being made welcome to their homes.
It happened during the excavating that went on, while the masons were at
work digging out and cleaning all the stones which would be available
for rebuilding the shattered side, that Sir Granby wrote a letter to
Captain Roy Royland, the young officer in the body-guard of his majesty,
King Charles the Second. The letter was full of congratulations to the
young man on his promotion, and towards the end Sir Granby said--
"I have kept your mother away from the work going on, for I have been
afraid that the digging would mean the turning over of plenty of sad
mementoes of that terrible time; but, strangely enough, these
discoveries have been confined to two. You remember how we wondered
that Master Palgrave Pawson never showed himself again, to take
possession of the place he schemed to win, and how often we wondered
what became of poor old Jenk. Well, in one day, Roy, the men came upon
the poor old man crouched up in a corner of the vault, close to the
magazine. From what we could judge, the powder must have exerted its
force upward, for several of the places where the stones were cleared
out were almost uninjured, and this was especially so where they found
old Jenk. The poor fellow must have been striking his blow against his
master's enemies, for, when the stones were removed, he lay there with a
lantern and a coil of slow-match beneath, showing what his object must
have been in going down to the magazine. The other discovery was that
of the remains of my scoundrel of a secretary. They came upon him
crushed beneath the stones which fell upon the east rampart, where,
perhaps you remember, there was a little shelter for the guard. Master
Pawson must have been on the ramparts that night, and perished in the
explosion.
"Come home soon, Roy, my lad; we want to see you again. They ought to
give you leave of absence now, and by the time you get here, I hope to
have the old garden restored, and looking something like itself once
more. The building will, however, take another year.
"Roy, my boy, they bury soldiers, as you know, generally where they
fall; and your mother and I thought that if poor old Jenk could have
chosen his resting-place, it might have been where we laid him. As you
remember, the old sun-dial in the middle of the court was levelled by
the explosion. It has been restored to its place, and it is beneath the
stones that your grandfather's faithful old servant lies at rest.
"Ben Martlet begs me to remember him to you, and says it will do his
eyes good to see you again; and your mother, who writes to you as well,
says you must come now. My wounds worry me a good deal at times, and I
don't feel so young as I was; but there, as your mother says, what does
it matter now we can rest in peace? for we live again in another, our
own son--Roy."