mary state, for, in spite of the tremendous singing and
cracking going on, he heard the order given to the men to stop the
vents, sponge, and begin to reload.

"Just a shade more up," said Ben; "and yours wants a bit more than mine,
corporal.--See where the shot hit, sir?"

"I? No," said Roy.

"Both on 'em just in front of their works, and covered 'em with earth
and stones. They all bolted out. Look, they're coming back again, and
they'll give us something directly."

"Yes," said the corporal, as the men went on loading; "and those shots
have shown 'em what we can do. Look, sir."

"Why, they're drawing off those two troops of horse."

"Yes, sir," said the corporal; "and if Sir Granby Royland had been in
command they'd never have been there."

"No," said Ben, with his lips pinched together; "we could have bowled
over two or three of 'em with the guns, but I thought the captain would
like to have a try at the earthwork first.--For they're not soldiers,
Master Roy.--Are they, corporal?"

The trooper laughed.

"Just a mob of men scratched together, and put into jerkins and
headpieces, and with swords stuck in their fisties. Why, there aren't
many of 'em as can ride," continued Ben.

The thought occurred to Roy that his own garrison was composed of
extremely raw material, but he said nothing, and Ben went grumbling on:

"I don't say but what they could be made into decent soldiers in time;
but they don't seem to have anybody much over them."

Just then a couple of shots were fired by the enemy, one of which struck
the tower with a tremendous crash, sending splinters of stone flying,
and a tiny cloud of dust rose slowly. The other shot went whizzing
overhead.

"I wouldn't get looking over the edge, Master Roy, sir," whispered Ben.
"Some of those chips of stone might give you an ugly scratch. But that
just shows what I say's right. They haven't got the right man there or
he'd soon change things. You see they've brought up their guns with
orders to batter down our drawbridge and smash the portcullis, thinking
they'll make you surrender. Don't seem to come into their thick heads
that if they did manage to smash the bridge, they'd be no nearer to us
than before, because we should soon pile up a good breastwork, and pitch
every man back into the moat who swam across. But, as I was going to
say, they've got their orders to batter down the bridge, and they keep
at it. We've been hit up here, but only by a