THE FLAG GOES DOWN--AND UP
On the sixth day of the siege Dick noticed that his lieutenant looked
unwontedly serious.
"What is it, Giles?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"
Giles shrugged his shoulders.
"Little Captain," he said, "why don't our friends, the enemy, go away
or attack us?"
"Go away?" Dick asked, for it had not struck him that cavalry might
be better employed than in camping before a castle into which they
could not seemingly get.
"I admit," Giles went on in his jesting way, "that the situation is
salubrious, that the plain is well watered, and that the pasture for
cattle is excellent. The view, too, of yonder hills is delightful,
for men who have seen neither the Alps nor the Pyrenees. Your
honour's cows, too, give excellent milk. Hark to the clatter of the
pails in the hands of the Puritan dairymen! But, notwithstanding, to
an unprejudiced, leisurely observer, it seems, in these tumults, our
friends there might seek something more suiting their
profession--unless, to be sure," he added, "the troopers are
recruiting their health."
Dick drummed on the stones with his shoe-heels.
"I wish they'd attack us," he said.
"I want--" said Giles. "I know what I want, little Captain--"
"What do you want?" asked Dick.
"A man--one of those men," said Giles, stretching his hands towards
the camp as if he would have picked up one of the Puritan soldiers
that they could see in the meadow below. "Now, if I want a bird for
the pot, I go out and shoot him."
Dick caught his hand.
"Let's go out and shoot a MAN!" he cried.
"We can't," Giles said with a despairing gesture. "How can we? Why,
your little body wouldn't hold the bullets they'd send us."
Dick sighed.
"Bear up," said Giles, patting his captain's shoulder. "I'll load a
musket there is in the hall, and go sit me in the room over the gate.
Who knows, some carping pig of a Puritan may come past to bid us
good-day."
He ran down the turret-stairs humming a tune, and Dick watched him
presently cross the courtyard. There were two windows in the little
room over the portcullis arch in the gate-house--one narrow slit,
with an iron bar down the middle, looked over the moat, and one
looked over the yard, and had a view of the leads and the flagstaff.
Giles had sung two Cavalier songs to himself, and had, I think,
almost forgotten why he was sitting there with a gun across his
knees, when he became aware of a man crouching behind a low wall that
flanked the castle orchard on the far side of the moat, well within
range.
He had scarcely marked him before he heard a report, then a loud cry
from the leads. Darting to the other window, he saw the flag
drooping from the broken rope. The wind caught it, held it straight
out for a moment, then down it came at a run, and sank out of sight
behind the battlements. From down the meadow he heard a cheer.
"For which we will have payment," he said grimly. He sprang up the
steps to the roof. The Puritan trooper had stepped out of cover, and
stood mocking, waving his hand to the bare pole.
"He laughs best who laughs last," shouted Giles, with his gun at his
shoulder. He fired, and the man fell as he laughed. Giles turned in
time to see the flag fluttering up to the staff-head gaily. Dick had
knotted the rope, and, looking across at a group of Puritans who were
watching, he waved his hat to them, bowed--in careful imitation of
the stableman's manner--and stepped out of sight.
"Of the right stuff," was Giles's comment, and he went down to meet
his commander. "Of course," he thought, "he will absolutely require
to tell me how he did it."
When Dick joined him, all he said was:
"Giles, what think you? They shot at our flag!"
"Very insolent, on my word!" Giles responded, and waited.
"But it's up still," said Dick, and he slipped his hand through
Giles's arm, and smiled to himself.
"I saw," said Giles quietly. "It was well done. You're a captain
for a man to serve under, Dick."
For a minute Dick was silent. Then he looked up.
"I've been thinking, Giles," he said, "that it is very foolish of me
to lord it over you here. You've served in the wars, Giles, and you
know so much more than I. It seems a great piece of absurdity. So
here, I resign. And--let me see. Yes. Have this." He unbuckled
his dagger. "It's all I've got, Giles. Let me fasten it on for you.
What's the matter? Did I prick you with the point?"
Giles's eyes were suddenly lowered--almost shut, in fact--but Dick
was sure he had seen something very curious about them. And it
seemed impossible to find Giles's middle amongst his rags, for his
hands were in Giles's hands; and--anyhow, between them, the dagger
fell to the ground.
"Dick, I'd serve under you to the end of time!" Giles said gaily. "I
wouldn't have you resign for an empire! Nay, don't talk of
resigning. Zounds! my dear little fellow, I'm more proud of serving
under you than under any one of my kings and dukes and great barons!"
Dick was convinced of the utter impossibility of giving up his post.
Giles promised to help, to advise, to suggest; but command, no!
"But I'll keep your dagger for a keepsake, sir."
"Call me Dick," the boy cried affectionately.
"I'll keep it in memory of this day, Dick, then, and some day,
perhaps, I'll give you something in exchange."
And there never was a more devoted, attached, considerate, unselfish
couple of officers anywhere in the world. And if, forgetting his
mightiness, the captain at times waited on the lieutenant, and the
lieutenant at times rated the captain, and if they both laughed
loudly at each other's jests, and played each other desperate
practical jokes, there was no one to complain. They were prepared to
stand by each other, living, in the face of every foe; and Dick, for
one, had no higher ambition than to die in the esteem and affection
of his lieutenant and stableman Giles.