"Now, all together, my brave boys," cried Purlrose; "a good run, and down goes the door. Off!" The order answered for Dummy as well as the men, and feeling now that he had waited too long, the boy swung the bag over the battlement. The passage through the air increased the sparkling of the fuse, and before it touched the pavement, a few feet in front of the men starting for their run, there was a wondrous flash of light, a fierce wind drove the two lads backward, and then came a deafening roar, mingled with the breaking of glass, a yell of horror, and as the roof still quivered beneath the lads' feet they heard the rush of men through the gateway, across the next court, and through the outer opening on to the bridge, and then down the first slope. "Come on!" cried Dummy, running to the low doorway of the gate-tower, where he picked up the other powder-bag, and, hardly knowing what he did, Mark followed him down the winding stair into the gateway. "Come on!" cried Dummy again, and Mark still followed, across the outer court and the first gateway, grasping the pick from his belt, feeling that they were about to charge the rear of the flying enemy. "Come on," shouted Dummy, for the third time, and they crossed the narrow space, which brought them to the little tower and gateway by the natural bridge, where, as Mark closed up, he could hear the babble and growl of voices from the bottom of the first slope. "Shied it too soon," growled the boy. "I don't believe it's killed one." "They're coming back, Dummy," cried Mark, "and the gate's broken away from the hinges." "Then they shall have it this time," cried the lad, and cutting a hole with his knife in one corner of the powder-bag, he held it down at one side behind the massive wall of the little tower, and striding his legs, walked slowly forward till he reached the middle of the bridge, where he plumped the powder-bag down, after leaving a little train of the black grains behind him where he walked. Then carefully avoiding it, he stepped quickly back to where Mark was standing, and took out and handed him the flint and steel. "You do it this time," he said. "We shall be in shelter here. I'll watch and say when." Mark took the rough implements, and knelt down by the commencement of the train. "Hold it close down, quite steady, and give one good nick, and it will set the powder off." "Come on, you cowardly dogs," cried a now familiar voice. "There's everything that's good in there, and the place will be ours, I tell you. What, going to be scared by a puff of smoke? The place is our own now. All here?" "Ay," came in a growl. "Form in good order, three abreast, and charge right across and into the yard. Halt! Steady! To think of running for a flash in the pan!" "You ran too," growled a voice. "You won't be happy till you're strung up, Hez Bingham," cried the captain. "Now then: swords. Steady! Forward!"