d
outburst of sharp, harsh cries, for there upon the leads, and holding on
by the little turret which covered the door-way of the spiral staircase,
stood Master Pawson.

"Feels like I do, I suppose," thought Roy, as the secretary cast his
eyes round the old building, particularly watchful of the pleasaunce,
but keeping right back by the outer crenelles as if not wishing to be
seen.

At first Roy felt that the secretary saw him, and as his eyes roved on
and he made no sign, the boy's hand went to his pocket in search of his
handkerchief to wave to him. He did not withdraw it, but lay lazily
watching while the secretary now turned his back and stood gazing right
away.

"Never saw him do anything of that kind before," thought Roy. "What's
he looking after? I shouldn't have thought he had ever been up there in
his life."

Roy lay quite still, with his eyes half closed, and all at once the
secretary drew out his white laced handkerchief, wiped his forehead
three times with a good deal of flourish, and returned it, after which
he slowly stepped into the turret opening and backed out of sight.

"Mind you don't slip," said Roy, tauntingly, but quite conscious of the
fact that his words could not be heard. "Why, he has gone down like a
bear--backward. I could run down those stairs as fast as I came up."

Perhaps it was the warm sunshine, perhaps it was from laziness, but,
whatever the cause, Roy Royland went off fast asleep, and remained so
for quite a couple of hours, when, starting up wonderingly, and not
quite conscious of the reason why he was there, he looked about him, and
finally over the great parapet, to see the secretary beyond the farther
end of the drawbridge, talking in a very benign way to the old porter,
who stood with bent head listening to his words.

"Why, it seems only a few moments ago that I saw him on the leads over
his chamber staring out across country, and he must have been down
since, and had a walk.--How time does go when you're snoozing," thought
Roy, "and how stupid it is to go to sleep in the daytime! I won't do it
again."

CHAPTER FOUR.

THE USE OF A SWORD.

Several days passed away, but Lady Royland always put off sending in
search of news, and seemed to be more cheerful, so that Roy soon forgot
his anxiety in the many things he had to think about,--amusements,
studies, and the like. But he had a few words with his father's old
follower on the subject of the absence of new