“He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. Are ye so deaf? The very loop holes of that idolatrous castle, of that high-place of iniquity, condemned by the Psalmist, take in my words. My master, Cromwell, in the name of the Parliament of England, demands you to surrender the castle, else it shall be razed to the ground, and there shall not be one stone left upon another, which shall not be thrown down. Last night, when I had retired to sleep, in the midst of my meditations, I heard an angel flying through the sky, and crying with a loud voice ‘Babylon is fallen, Lancaster Castle is no more.’” At this moment a ball whizzed over the head of Obadiah. “Is that the angel which flew through the sky?” inquired the sentinel, who had discharged it, and who, with curses regretted that it had not gone a little nearer in order that the herald might have known more accurately. “Darest thou?” exclaimed the governor, as he turned to the sentinel. “Another time, thou receivest thy punishment.” The herald continued,-- “You are cut off from all provisions, you shall soon be compelled to eat your wives, your little ones, and yourselves. Then surrender in time.” “Not so,” replied the governor, with a laugh, “we have better dainties than that. We have as good ale, as ever Oliver himself brewed at Huntingdon. Nay, I should like to have a chat with him, over some of it. Sentinel, throw Obadiah a loaf.” The herald, who did not seem by any means over-fed, caught the descending bread, and stowed it about his person. “Now, fool, return and tell Oliver that we despise his vengeance, and laugh at his mercy.” “Then,” exclaimed the angry and indignant messenger, “a voice against Lancaster, a voice against the Castle, a voice against--” “Yourself. A voice against yourself,” and a well aimed ball, from the governor’s pistol, brought him to the ground, from off his steed. The report could not have been heard from the hill, where Cromwell’s troops were posted, but the herald’s fall must have been noticed, as instantly active preparations for the attack seemed to be making, and soon several pieces of cannon opened their fire upon the castle in close volley. From the upper batteries it was returned, and from the loop holes over the strong arched gateway, muskets were fired upon those of the Roundhead soldiers, who had broken down the gates of the town, and were advancing furiously. “Prevent them,” cried the governor, “from recovering the dead body of their comrade. Let him at least be useful in his death, and be a meal to the crows and the vultures.” But although the musketry wrought havock among the Roundheads who approached, they bore off Obadiah, whilst they put to the sword all the inhabitants whom they met scouring the streets in their fear. They returned reinforced, in spite of the cannon, which was now also turned against them, and they entered the church, and from the broken windows took aim at the besieged with their muskets.