"Are you going to be drilled too?"

Roy glanced sharply round, but the secretary spoke earnestly, and with no suggestion of a sneer.

"Yes, sir, me and my men must come and support my landlord, spite of all that Parson Meldew may say."

"Does he object?"

"Yes, sir; and pretty strongly, too. If I was him, I don't think I should say quite so much, for he may be hearing of it again."

"But I hope all we hear is but exaggerated rumour, Master Raynes, for everybody's sake. If it were half so bad as you all say, I don't know what would happen."

"Ah well, sir, nothing shall happen here if me and my lads can prevent it. There, I won't waste time. The lads shall be over here in a couple of hours, Master Roy, and I'll be getting off to market."

The farmer went away, and Roy felt comparatively happy with his tutor, for Master Pawson seemed to have put aside the petty feeling of annoyance, and to wish to let the trouble over the firing be quite forgotten, so careful was he about avoiding any allusion to the guns.

"I can't help," he said, smiling; "only to look on. I was never meant for a fighting man. What a change, though, you seem to be producing, Roy."

This was sufficient to make Roy, with his natural boyish frankness, begin talking freely about his plans, for he was growing enthusiastic, and he even began to ask the secretary's opinion about two or three minor matters.

"Oh, don't ask me," said his companion, laughing, and with an air of protest; "you might just as well expect me to begin wearing armour. No.

You must do all the defending if trouble does come, and I beg you will give particular orders to your men-at-arms to take the greatest care of the secretary, for you must not have him hurt. I suppose, then, that there will be no more studies for the present?"

"No, not for the present," said Roy, rather importantly; "I have so much to do."

"Very well, man o' war; the man o' peace will go back to his music and his books, but if you want me to do anything that I can do, send for me at once."

Master Pawson put his hands behind him and walked thoughtfully through the garden towards the door-way leading to the ramparts, and from thence to the north-west tower, by the green gra.s.s and flowers seeming to him a more attractive way than through the long corridor and past the occupied rooms; while Roy made for the armoury, which seemed to be his study now.

Ben was there, busy, and he looked up and nodded. "Master Pawson's soon settled down then, sir?" he said.

"Oh, yes, Ben; he's good-tempered enough now."

"Good job for him, sir. Can't have quarrelling in a garrison. I began to think he was going to mutiny outright, and if he'd shown his teeth any more, I suppose I should have had to remind him that there were some deep, dark dungeons underground as a first dose, and the stone gallows up at the far corner of the ramparts for the very worst cases."

"But do you think that stone bar thing was ever used for executing people?"

"Sure of it, sir; and there's the opening underneath leading down to that square patch beneath the walls."

"But it may have been to hoist food or other things up during a siege."

"Ah, it may have been, sir," said Ben, grimly; "but I don't quite see why they should have chosen to make it just over the bit of a patch of ground between the walls and the moat where you couldn't get the forage to without a boat, and when there were a gate-way and bridge. 'Sides, too, why should they pick the old burying-place of the castle?"

"But that was not the old burying-place, surely, Ben?"

"You ask d.i.c.k Grey, gardener, what he found when her ladyship wanted the ivy planted there to cover that bit o' wall. It was full of 'em."

Roy shuddered.

"That's so, sir. I expect in the old fighting days they used to bury 'em there; and as it's just under that there gallows, why, of course, it was used for traitors or spies as well. That reminds me, sir, as a lot of that ivy ought to be cut away. We don't want any one to make a ladder of it for getting into the place."

"Leave it for the present. It could be torn down in an hour if there was any need."

"Ay, sir, that's the way you take it over such things. That there garden ought to be turned into a drilling-ground; you know it ought."

"If there does come any need for it, the garden can go," said Roy, "but not until the very last."

"That's right, sir. Only, if we're besieged, it will have to go. Now, let me see--that makes nine buff coats, and one more's ten, for Farmer Raynes's lot. Ought to give the farmer something a bit smarter, oughtn't I, as he'll expect to be a sergeant, won't he?"

"He'll like to be over his men."

"But, you see, he's a big one, and there's a buff coat would suit him exact. I'll tell you what, sir, if he has the same as the others, and a scarf, and a feather in his cap, he'll be satisfied."

"I should say so, Ben."

"Then scarf and feather it shall be, sir. I'll have all their arms and things ready for to-night; then they can have 'em in the morning when they come, and it'll put all them straw-whopping fellows in a good temper, and make 'em easy to drill. I want to pick out so many fellows for the big guns that we must have some more in soon. But it's better to go gently. Saves a lot of confusion."

"What's the next thing to do, Ben?"

"Everything, sir. Powder-bags to fill. Stores to get in. We must have a new flag. Place cleared out for garrison quarters. Something done to the two old guard-rooms on each side of the gate. We've months of work to do, sir, try how we may, but we're going to do it, Master Roy, and-- Oh," continued the old fellow, pausing for a few moments in his task of taking down belts and swords to lay one on each buff coat below the steel caps just set out ready, "there's that other thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"What other thing, Ben?"

"I was up atop of the great tower this morning."

"I know. I saw you there."

"I was looking at the furnace and thinking that must be touched up a bit, and a good supply of wood and charcoal carried to it. There is plenty of lead at the foot of the north-east tower."

"Ugh! We don't want to do any of those barbarous things, Ben; they're too horrible. Fancy pouring molten lead down on people's heads."

"We don't want to pour no molten lead down on people's heads, sir,"

protested the old soldier. "All we says to 'em is, we've got a whole lot of hot silver soup up here, and we shall pour it down on you if you come hanging about our place, and trying to get in. Let 'em stop away, and then they won't be hurt."

"But it's too horrible, Ben. I will not have that got ready."

"Very well, sir. I don't know that it much matters, for they've got to cross the moat first, and I don't think we'll let 'em do that. The only way the enemy will get in here will be through traitors in the camp."

"And we shall not have any of them, Ben."

"Hope not, sir."

"So if we are to fight, let it be in a fair, manly, chivalrous way."

"Yes, sir, and hang all spies and traitors."

"Don't let's imagine that such people are possible," said Roy. "But was that what you wanted to talk about, sergeant?"

"No, captain, it wasn't. I got thinking this morning, as I was looking round for weak points in our defences, that there's the old tale about that there underground pa.s.sage; the little chapel on the hill made me think of it first."

"But do you believe it's possible, Ben?"