carefully again.

The man turned to go, and just then his horse fell heavily, the blood
gushed from its nostrils as it gave a few convulsive struggles, and then
lay dead.

The messenger went to its head, sank upon one knee, as Roy joined the
group around, bent lower, kissed the poor animal's brow. Then he drew
his sword, cut off a piece of its forelock, thrust it into his wallet,
and amidst perfect silence, followed one of the men to the guard-room,
hanging his head, while Roy longed to go and shake him by the hand.

The next moment the silence was broken by the loud blare of a trumpet,
and a gun was fired from the gate tower.

Roy had directly after a specimen of the general's military capacity,
for by the time the court was filling with armed men, one of the
sentinels on the north-west tower announced the coming of the squadron
of horse that had been camping by and in the ruined chapel; while,
within half an hour, the troop in the castle rode out, each bearing a
foot-soldier upon the crupper of his saddle,--the squadron without
waiting to take on an equal number themselves. The general meanwhile
sat upon his charger conversing in a low tone with the officer he was
about to leave in command.

Just then, looking very weak and ill, the messenger came hurrying out of
the guard-room, putting on his steel cap.

He waited till the general approached, and Roy was near enough to hear
what was now said, the man speaking in a husky voice.

"Beg pardon, general; will you give orders for me to be supplied with a
fresh horse?"

"What for?" said General Hepburn, turning on him sharply.

"To go with you and join my regiment."

"No; stay here. Captain Ramsay, if there is any ruse being practised,
as soon as you hear that disaster has come to nay party, place that man
against the wall and have him shot."

The dragoon raised his hand to his cap in salute; and as soon as the
general had ridden out, he staggered more than walked to where the dead
horse lay, and took its head into his lap, to sit gazing sorrowfully
into its reproachful-looking, glazing eyes.

"I'm a tough old chap, Master Roy," whispered Ben, "but my eyes are so
watery I can hardly see; and if that orderly warn't an enemy, I'd just
go and shake him by the fist."

Unconsciously the old sergeant had exactly expressed Roy's own feelings;
but the next minute all show of weakness and sentiment had passed away.
The trooper turned from the lookers-on, giving t