"Very well," said Roy.

"Don't you be afraid, sir; let us have your order sharp, whatever it is, and we'll do it."

"Then don't stand chattering there, sir!" cried Roy, fiercely. "Can't you see those three men are waiting for you at the bottom of the tower?

Forward!"

"Ck!"

It was an unspeakable e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n which came from the old soldier's throat as he turned sharply and marched off to the men, chuckling to himself and shaking his shoulders as he went.

"He'll do," he muttered; and then aloud, "Up with you, my lads!"

Ben followed the men, and Roy came last, and, as he entered the door-way, he thought of the journey down to the powder-magazine, and felt a little shame at his nervousness.

Then up and up past the two floors and on towards the roof. As he reached the door-way leading out on to the battlements, he stood in the gloomy interior, and looked along the roof of the untenanted portion towards the north-west tower, wondering what Master Pawson was doing.

He was not left in doubt, for he could just see the secretary standing back from one of the narrow windows scanning the tower he was in, evidently having seen them enter, and watching to see what they were about to do.

A bit of boyishness entered into Roy just then, brought about by the business he was upon and the work he had been engaged in.

"I should like to startle him," he said to himself, as he gave his mischievous thought play. "One might load and train one of the guns, and fire the blank charge aimed just over his head. It would startle him."

The thought pa.s.sed away directly, and he went up to the roof, where the four men were together upon the platform examining the two guns facing the embrasures.

These were not quite so big as the two standing now beneath the gate-way, but, for the date, they were of a pretty good size, and having the wood-work of the mounting in excellent condition.

"Well, how do they look?" Roy asked.

"Better than I thought, sir. They'll do. Only want a good cleaning.

If you think a charge or two ought to be fired, sir, as was talked about, shall it be with one of these?"

"If--yes; fire them both," said Roy; and then he felt astonished at the fact that what he had imagined in mischief was really to be carried out.

"Next order, sir?" said Ben, gazing in his captain's face.

"See to the other guns on the north-east and south-west towers."

"Yes, sir. What's to be done with the two as was slung down when Master Pawson's rooms was furnished?"

"Sling them up again," cried Roy, promptly. "It is necessary now."

Ben gave his leg a slap and looked his satisfaction.

"Wouldn't like the two big guns hoisted over the gate-way, sir, I s'pose?"

"No, certainly not," cried Roy; "they will be of more value to sweep the approach of the castle. I'll have them kept there. Plenty of room to fire on each side of the drawbridge if it's up, and the muzzles would run through the square openings in the portcullis."

Old Ben stared at him round eyed, and shook his head; then he chuckled softly, and, muttering to himself his former words, "He'll do," he led the men to the south-west tower, upon whose platform three bra.s.s guns were mounted, and then to the north-east, where there were three more.

Twelve guns in all for the defence of the castle; but the question was, would the ammunition be of any use? b.a.l.l.s there were in abundance, for, in addition to piles standing pyramidally at the foot of each tower, half-covered now by flowers and shrubs, there were similar piles close to the carriage of each gun. But the vital force of the gun, the energy that should set the ball whizzing through the air, was the question, and to prove this, Ben asked for an order, and then walked with his young captain to the armoury, where he opened the great closet. One of the kegs was brought out and set down upon the broad oak table.

"I've been thinking, sir, that perhaps it would be best to fire the big guns under the gate-way to-night."

"Why?" asked Roy.

"Because we know their carriages are right, and I'm a bit doubtful about those upon the tower."

"Very well; try the powder in those."

"Yes, I hope I shall," said Ben; "but I'm a bit scared, sir."

"What! about the danger of opening the keg?"

"Tchah! no, sir. I can open that safely enough. It only means loosening the two hoops at the end, and then the heading will slip out.

I mean this--the barrels have been down there no one knows how long, and what I want to know is, will it be powder after all?"

"Not powder after all!" cried Roy in astonishment, as his active mind began to question what liquor it could be there that was stored up so carefully as if it were a treasure indeed.

"I'm afraid it won't be, sir--very much afraid."

"Then what do you think it is?"

"Solid blocks o' stony stuff, sir, I should say."

"But they don't put stony stuff in kegs like these."

"No, sir, powder; but perhaps it has got damp with time and hardened so as it won't be of any use."

"Not if it's dried and ground up again."

"Don't know, sir; can't say; but we'll soon see." There was no hesitation shown. Ben tapped the two top hoops a little, and they soon grew loose and were worked up the staves; the top one withdrawn, and the next brought up into its place, having the wooden disc which formed the head free to be lifted out.

"I thought so, sir," said Ben with a sigh, as he looked in. "Just solid black, and nothing else."

He thumped the top of the contents with his knuckles, and then tapping the lower hoops they glided down and the staves fell apart, leaving a black block standing upon the table.

"Oh, this is bad luck, sir! horribly bad luck!" groaned Ben. "We shall have to get some powder from somewhere, Plymouth or--yes, Bristol's the most likely place."

"Fetch out the other keg, and open that, Ben," said Roy. "To be sure, sir," said Ben, and he turned to the closet and bore the second keg to the table. "If this is all right," he went on, "there's some hope for us, because we may find some more; but if it has gone bad from both sides it's all over with us: we can only stand well on the towers and throw stones down at whoever comes."

Ben's fingers were as busy as his tongue, and in a few minutes he had the head out of the second keg, looked in, and tapped it with his knuckles.

"Just the same, sir, just the same."

"Look here, Ben! I'll have one of these blocks chopped up, and then ground up fine, and we'll try it with a musket."

"Good, sir! that's the right thing to do; but after being wet once, I'm afraid it'll fizz off now like a firework."