."

"I begin to fear that as soon as they begin to fire they will batter it
all to pieces, Ben."

"Dessay they'll damage it a bit, sir; but if they do, we must mend it;
and every night we work, we can get it stronger and more earthy.
Nothing like soil to swallow balls. Of course it's no use as a defence,
because the enemy could come round either end; but it'll do what's
wanted, sir--stop the shot from hitting the bridge-chains and smashing
through the grating. Hello! what's that?"

_That_ was a challenge, followed by a shot, and the rush of feet as the
sentries thrown out ran back. This was followed by the trampling of
hoofs, and the shouting of orders, as a small body of horse made a dash
at the working-party, sweeping by the gate, but only to be received by a
scattered volley as they were dimly seen riding out of the black
darkness and disappearing again. But not without coming to the closest
of close quarters, for there was the clashing noise of swords striking
against steel, and, in the brief time occupied by their passing, blows
were returned amidst angry shouting, and several dull thuds told that
the blows had taken effect on horse or man.

It was merely the work of moments, the charge having been delivered from
the left by a party of mounted men who had evidently been reconnoitring
along by the edge of the moat, and came up at a slow walk unheard by the
sentries on the walls. Then, finding the working-party before them,
they had charged and galloped clear.

Roy fully expected another attack, for which he was now well prepared,
the workers having seized their weapons; but all was still, and he was
arguing with himself as to whether it would not be as well to work on
till daybreak, when a voice from out of the darkness said, faintly--

"Will some 'un come and lend me a hand?"

"Sam Donny!" cried Roy, and, in company with Ben, he ran forward for
quite forty yards before they came upon the man lying prone upon the
earth.

"Why, Sam!" cried Roy; "are you hurt?"

"Well, it's only a scratch, sir; but it do hurt, and it's a-bleeding
like hooroar. One on 'em chopped at me with his sword. I'd only got a
pick, you see; but I hit at him with that, and somehow it got stuck, and
I was dragged ever so far before I had to let go. He's got the pick in
his big saddle, I think. But I'll pay for it, sir, or get you a new
one."

"Never mind the pick, Sam. Where are you hurt?"

"Oh, down here, on my right leg,