They crossed the courtyard, and went up the spiral staircase that led to the gate-house. The messenger with the white flag had just arrived opposite, and was reining in his horse. Giles lifted his old hat with a bow, and Dick, being nervous, copied the action. "In whose hands is this castle?" asked the Puritan. "In mine," Dick shouted back, feeling his own voice very weak and small after the thundering bass of the soldier. "You!" said the latter, shielding his eyes from the sun with a gauntleted hand. "What are you, prithee?" "Sir Richard Chester," said Dick proudly. He looked a gallant little figure as he stood up, straight as a ramrod, his dark curls blown out like a streamer behind him, and his hand on the hilt of his dagger. As Captain of Dent he had thought it expedient to don his best suit of black velvet, with the lace collar and cuffs, when he had thrown off his wet clothes before dinner. His shoes had steel buckles, and his hat a black plume. He was in mourning for his father, and the only colour about him was the red-leather sheath of his dagger. The Puritan looked up at him grimly. "Who is in command here?" he asked. "I am." The Puritan laughed. "Come you down, my manikin," he jeered, "and open the door." Dick flushed with anger, and was about to fling a retort at the officer, when Giles spoke to him. "It's about time, your honour, that His Majesty's name came into the conversation. Suppose you say this place is held for him?" "Dent is held for the King," Dick shouted, and Giles lifted his hat again. "What is that?" asked the Puritan, pointing to the tattered figure at Dick's elbow. "A scarer of crows?" "And of bigger things than crows," Giles said smiling. Dick could not help noticing that though Giles did not seem to lift his voice, it rang out in the stillness, every word clear and vibrating. By the Puritan's his own voice had seemed a mere shrill squeal, but by Giles's the Puritan's was a roar, hoarse and unmusical. "Well, you'll have to come out of that," he said. "The general will come up and talk to you in person." "A thousand thanks," Giles said, and it seemed to Dick, who was struggling in a chaos of half-formed threats, that the stableman dropped the words over the battlements right into the Puritan's face, for he started and looked up sharply. Then he shook his head and galloped off. "If we'd a musket I'd put a bullet in him as he rides off," said Dick savagely. Giles turned on him with such a blaze of anger in his eyes that Dick fell back a step or two. "Fire on a flag of truce! Fire at a man's back!" Giles said. "Upon my soul, Richard Chester, you want shooting yourself!" He laid a heavy hand on Dick's collar, and lifted the other. "You hold a castle for His Majesty! You little dastardly puppy!" He swung Dick round, shook him till his teeth chattered, and let him drop. Dick was choking with anger. He struck at Giles blindly and silently. Giles moved away.