Well, she did not breathe a word, of course, for she had given her promise. It must have been Captain Norris himself that had the news spread abroad at Monksfield. At any rate, inside an hour every soul in the garrison knew that they were likely to be attacked at daybreak. That night at supper, you may be sure, nothing was talked of among the Monksfield officers but the numbers and the strength of the enemy. "So one of my lord Caversham's sons is of the attacking party?" asked Nick Slanning. "What would you?" said Captain Brooke, who still was very brown of face, for he had found the walnut stain hard to wash off. "They are all rank rebels, the whole house of Caversham," he went on. "His Lordship, old Rob Fowell, the white-haired hypocrite, is in command for the Parliament at Ryeborough. And did he not give his eldest daughter in marriage to that arrant Roundhead, Peter Hatcher? 'Tis but in nature that one of my lord's hopeful sons should march against us at Hatcher's right hand." "By chance, do you know which one of Caversham's sons it is that cometh with Hatcher?" Lieutenant Digby looked up suddenly to ask. "'Tis the third son, Dick Fowell," Captain Brooke made answer. "Dick Fowell?" cried Digby, and flushed dully. "Heaven be thanked for good luck!" "You know him?" asked Slanning. "At home I dwell a neighbor to Lord Caversham," Digby answered. "Yes, I know Dick Fowell, and if we meet in the fight, by this hand! he'll have good cause to know me." As he spoke, Digby laughed, and when he left the room, he still was laughing. But in his laughter there was something that made a dry place come in Merrylips' throat and an emptiness at the pit of her stomach. Hastily she pulled out her pistol, and she went and sat by the fire, and rubbed it with a rag, just as she had seen Rupert clean his carabine. But while she seemed so busy, she could not help hearing Captain Brooke and Cornet Slanning, who were left alone at table, speak together. She knew that it was of her that they spoke. "'Twere better," said Slanning, "that Captain Norris had ventured it, after all, and sent the little rogue hence a week agone." "Not to be thought on!" Captain Brooke replied. "You know well that the ways were straitly laid. And who'd 'a' dreamed the assault would be made so soon!" Merrylips could not keep from glancing up. Then, when they saw that she was listening, the two men instantly laid off their grave looks, and began to chaff her. "What dost thou think to do with that murderous pistol, eh, Rittmeister?" said Slanning. Merrylips ran to him, and leaning against his shoulder, said:-- "Good Cornet Slanning, I could do far more, an you gave me a carabine, such as Rupert Hinkel hath, and a flask of powder, and a touch-box, and a pouch, and a piece of match as long as my arm." "That's a gallant lad!" said Captain Brooke. "I see well, Tibbott, that thou art not afraid."