A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
"List to me, mistress," I said, stilling my leaping pulse, for our peril
was near. "Do you bring all the women and children to this place, and
when I have descended, bolt the door upon me. You and they will be safe
here, while we beat off the enemy below."
She nodded her head, and fled away, coming back a while after with the
beldam and the rest of the women, young and old, all huddling like silly
sheep, moaning and crying, spite of the rebukes of their high-hearted
mistress. I bade her good-bye and sped down the stairs, hearing the
grating of the bolt behind me, and came to the courtyard, where the men
were assembled expecting me.
I had already resolved upon my plan of defence. Our chiefest danger, as
I saw, was that the enemy, when they had crossed the lake, would by some
means mount the ruinous wall of the courtyard, that rose but three men’s
height above the water, and so swarm upon us. This wall was upwards of
two hundred ells in circuit, not of a perfect roundure, but irregular,
according to the shape of the rock whereon the castle was built. With
my few men it would go hard with us to hold so long a line, and I
foresaw that if the enemy pushed us with any vigour, we must needs give
way before them. But I had determined upon resisting them at the wall so
long time as we might, and when we could no longer withstand them, we
should withdraw ourselves into the keep, where even with a handful I
deemed it possible to fend them off and endure if need be a long siege.
When I had posted my men at divers points along the wall, suddenly I
bethought me of the water-gate, which gave entrance directly into the
courtyard. I remembered that the portcullis was raised, and had the
look of being immovable; but ’twas madness to leave the gate utterly
without defence, and so I called Stubbs to my side, and bade him find
tools wherewith we might endeavour to remedy this discommodity. While he
was gone about this quest, I looked around, and beheld with no little
indignation the Lady Sheila standing at the postern of the keep,
watching me.
"Get you up to the roof, mistress," I said peremptorily, hasting to her.
"This is no place for you."
"How now!" she cried. "Am I a maid-servant to be commanded hither and
thither? Mistress of this castle I stay, sir, and go where I will."
"Must I e’en carry you?" I said, very foolishly, not knowing thoroughly
the quality of the maid.
"Sirrah, you were best not try," she said, and when I, still in my folly
(and yet ’twas for her good), stretched out my hands to do as I had
said, she fetched me a buffet that sent me reeling.
"Virago!" I cried, my ear stinging with the blow.
"Upstart!" she made answer, and then with a swift change she said
meekly: "I pray you, good Master Rudd, let me stay."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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