and her old assistant as Roy made
for the couch, expecting to see a painful sight of agony and terror;
but, as he approached, the man's countenance expanded into a broad grin.

"Don't be hard on a poor fellow, captain," he said, just as Roy was
ready with a prepared speech about being sorry to see the man in so
grievous a condition.

"Hard upon you, Sam! What for?"

"Sneaking out o' all the fun like this here! 'Taren't my fault, you
know. I didn't want to stop in bed; but my lady says I must, and that
she'll report me to you if I don't obey orders. I say, let me get up,
sir. It's just foolishness me lying here."

"Foolishness! What! with that bad wound?"

"Bad, sir? Why, you don't call that bad. If he'd cut my head off, I'd
ha' said it was."

"How?" cried Roy, unable to repress a smile.

"How, sir? Why--oh! o' course not. Didn't think o' that; I s'pose I
couldn't then. But I say, Master Roy, sir--I mean cap'n, I'm just
ashamed o' myself letting her ladyship wait on the likes o' me!"

"Why should you be, Sam? Haven't you been risking your life to defend
us?"

"Me? No, sir, not as I knows on," said the man, staring.

"Well, I do know; and now you are not to talk."

"Oh, sir! If I'm to be here I must talk."

"You must not, Sam. There, I came to see how you were."

"Quite well, thank ye kindly, sir."

"You are not. You have a bad wound."

"But I aren't, Master Roy. It's on'y a bit cut; and I want to have a
stick and come up on the tower in case we have to work that gun."

"If you want to help to work that gun again, Sam, you will have to lie
still and let your wound heal."

"Master Roy!--I mean oh, cap'n--it's worse than the wound to hear that."

"We can't help it. Tell me, are you in much pain?"

"Oh, it hurts a bit, sir; but if I was busy I should forget that, and--"

_Crash_!--_Boom_!

A strange breaking sound, and the rattling of the windows as a heavy
report followed directly after, and Roy sprang from the chair he had
taken by the wounded man's couch.

"On'y hark, sir--that was my gun atop o' the gate tower begun firing,
and me not there."

"Be patient, Sam," cried Roy, excitedly. "It was not one of our guns,
but the enemy's, and the fight has begun in earnest. Good-bye, and lie
still."

He was half across the room as he said this, and the door opened to
admit Lady Royland, looking deadly pale.

"Roy, my boy," she cried, in a low, pained voice, as she caught his
han