nother week at least, first," said Roy. "Only too glad to have you
all back."

Roy stayed till it was dark, and he was descending to the court-yard
when a loud shouting below took his attention, and upon running out he
found a knot of men eagerly talking and looking up at the gate tower.

"What is it? What's wrong?" said the boy, excitedly.

"The flag, sir," cried Farmer Raynes. "Did you order it to be pulled
down?"

"I? No!" cried Roy, excitedly. "I said it was to be kept up night and
day. Who has dared to do this?"

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

BY A TRAITOR'S HAND.

The last words were spoken as he hurried across to the door-way in the
gate tower; and before he reached the platform at the top, he could hear
Ben Martlet storming and shouting at the men, who were very silent; but
from the noise of footsteps it was evident that they were running to and
fro.

As Roy reached the top of the stairs, it was to find his exit on to the
platform blocked by Ben and the corporal, the former being decked with
the flag hanging over his shoulder like a mantle. They were evidently
busy with the halyards at the little opening, down beside which the
flag-pole butt was fixed in iron loops, and through which window the
flag was hoisted and the halyards secured.

"What's the meaning of this?" cried Roy, breathlessly. "The enemy will
think we have surrendered."

"Let 'em come, then, sir, and we'll show 'em we haven't," roared Ben,
fiercely.

"But why was the flag hauled down?"

"Wasn't hauled down, sir. Come down with a run right on to the leads."

"What! Did the line break?"

"I wish it had broke, sir. You just look at that!" And he held out an
end of the thin, strong hempen cord which ran through a pulley at the
top of the pole, and to which the flag was always attached.

"Cut?" cried Roy.

"Yes, sir; cut. Some one has sawed through it with a sharp knife; and I
want to know who it was."

"Some one up here on the platform?"

"No, sir; I'll answer for that," said the corporal.

"Some one then in the ammunition chamber?"

"Nay; I don't believe any one there would do it, sir," growled Ben, who
was now busy splicing the line, which came swinging down by the window.

"How's that?" said Roy, eagerly.

"What--that rope, sir? One of the lads has swarmed up the flag-staff,
and run it over the wheel again," cried Ben, who now re-attached the
flag, well above the splice, and began to haul it up again, the fold