“Just the shadow of one,” said Dick thoughtfully; “but give me time. Let’s do what there is to do, and then go and wash and change. I’m horrible with blood.” “And I with gunpowder,” said Wyatt. “Well, there is nothing more to do. We shall have no further attack to-night; the sentries are doubled, and we may as well try for a bit of sleep. This is my delicious night’s rest!” “Yes, it horrible.” “We’ll go and see the wounded again, and then look how Stubbs has managed, and go to our room.” The doctor said that the two servants were badly hurt, but not dangerously, and he and Hulton were going to stay and watch them till morning. Wyatt protested but Hulton was firm. “Let me have my own way,” he said. “I can be of use over this, and I’ve been of little enough lately.” So the two officers went down to the yard, visiting posts on their way, and upon reaching the room used as a magazine, it was to find that Stubbs and a squad of gunners had moved everything to an inner chamber on the ground-floor, where it would be far more difficult for an attack to be made. Stubbs was just locking up as Wyatt and Dick approached, and triumphantly showed them the key. “It’s just under Mr Darrell’s bedchamber, gentlemen,” he said; “but I suppose he won’t mind.” “Oh, no; not at all,” said Dick, with a queer smile, which looked to be absolutely without mirth. “Only,” he added, “I should not have chosen my sleeping-place there.” “I didn’t think of it, sir, till I’d got nearly everything in; but I’ll see what we can do to-morrow.” “No,” said Wyatt shortly, and to Dick’s great discomposure; “it is a capital place for it, Stubbs, and it shall stay.—But there are two ways of looking at such things, Darrell,” he continued. “I’ll be hanged if I’m going to sleep over a powder-magazine that our enemies are trying to blow up, and I certainly won’t let you.” “Enemies, sir!” said Stubbs. “Then you feel that it is the work of the enemy?” “Certainly, Stubbs,” replied Wyatt; “and of some one high in power.” Chapter XXIX. “Hot Boiled Beans.” It was about half-an-hour later that, after a refreshing wash, the two officers sat together, partly dressed, talking in the room where the tulwar still hung, and with the pleasant knowledge that if, after all, a smouldering cartridge-cover had been accidentally taken into the fresh magazine, they might at any moment be blown up piecemeal. “Yes, it is a nice idea,” said Wyatt in reply to a remark made by Dick. “It has stopped me, too, from having a ‘hubble-bubble’ to smoke. But never mind; we must chance it for one night.” “Or morning,” said Dick. “Eh? Yes, it must be getting late, and I want a sleep for an hour or two, even if it is with a bag of powder for a pillow. So now to business. You have some idea of how the attacks are made?” “I have thought of one,” replied Dick, “but it sounds so silly and romantic that I don’t like to tell you.”