Harry was sick at heart when he came to examine his losses. Three of his men were dead, nine badly wounded, there was not one but bore marks, in bruise or cut or strain, of the desperate strife in which they had played such manful parts. He arranged for the burial of the three gallant troopers; then, heavy-hearted as he was, set to work with indomitable pluck to repair the damage done to the defences. The prisoners were pressed into the service; the barricade was restored, and another mine was dug, though from the crack that showed in the masonry of the archway Harry feared that a second explosion would bring half the keep tumbling about his ears. Having done all that could be done, and shared a meal with his devoted men, Harry went with Fanshawe and Buckley to the top of the keep to discuss the future. "Our state is parlous, Fanshawe," he said. "Another assault will wipe us out." "We have a breathing-space. The brigands have had enough for the present. Their ill-success must have daunted them." "But Aglionby will not give up yet. He is playing for a high stake.—What is doing yonder?" In the distance he saw two wagons and a band of some fifty men making their way across the hills towards the copse in which the enemy were encamped. "Reinforcements, it appears," said Buckley. "Perhaps food; they will raid every farmhouse round." "We must say nothing of this to the men," said Harry. "’Twould dishearten them." "It seems you have no choice but surrender," remarked Buckley. "Never—unless you and Fanshawe as my superior officers take the responsibility." "Not I," said Fanshawe. "’Tis absurd to think of! The men are devoted to you; and Prince Eugene put you in command; you have done wonders, and whatever be the end, we’d be fools to interfere—eh, Buckley?" "Certainly." "Then I won’t surrender. Say we make terms, think you the enemy would hold to them, finding the prince not here? They would wreak vengeance on us for their disappointment and their losses. They are in the main freebooters, the scum of the French and Bavarian armies, as near savages as men can be. We could expect no mercy at their hands. Besides, Aglionby will by and by discover, if he have not already done so, that I am here; and he has too many scores to pay off to deal very tenderly with me or my men. We can but hold out to the last, and hope that help may come in time." "The prince must by this be in our camp," said Fanshawe. "What if we tell the enemy they are on the wrong scent?" "’Twould avail us nothing. Aglionby would not believe the story, or, if he believed it, would scout it publicly so as to keep his men together. He would be the more deeply embittered against us." "You are in the right," said Fanshawe. "Pray God help comes to us, then." "We can still hold the keep," said Harry. "One man on the winding stair can hold many at bay; we must fight against time."