This order was obeyed as the next was given, and headed by Sir Edward and his son, the party made steadily for the wall, at first slowly and gradually increasing the pace, till Sir Edward cried, "Charge!" and they broke into a trot, the fastest speed to be attained to upon such a slope. Then, amidst shouts of hatred and mocking defiance from the marauders, there was the clash of steel, and the heavy rattling noise made by the pike-staves, as, thrusting and stabbing, the attacking party strove to win their way over the wall. Sir Edward led his men bravely, while, in a wild fit of excitement, Mark, young as he was, strove to show the Darley men that he was worthy to be their leader. A fierce rage filled these men, fresh from the ruined home, and half mad with desire to revenge themselves upon those who had given them their wounds; but all along it was the same; they were at a terrible disadvantage in their approach, their enemies having their undefended bodies as marks for their weapons, while they had only head and shoulders to strike at, the rest of their bodies being safe, behind the strong breastwork. Then, too, feeling secure in this approach to their stronghold, the marauders stood firm, waiting their opportunities, and then thrusting home, with the result that several of their assailants went down, and at the end of five minutes' vain attack, Sir Edward ordered the men to draw back a few yards, and with some difficulty he and his son, by rushing before them, and thrusting up their pikes, induced them to obey. "This is useless, Mark," he said anxiously. "They are too strong for us. Take the extreme right next time we advance, and I will take the left. Then as soon as they are well engaged in front, you, with two men must try to get in over your end, and drop over amongst them from the side, and I will do the same. Do you dare to do that?" "I feel as if it is horribly risky," replied the boy, "but I'll try." "Then you will do it," said Sir Edward quietly. "Choose your men, and I will do the same." Five minutes later, amidst the mocking jeers of the men behind the breastwork, a fresh attack was made, and as Mark reached the front, he ducked down to avoid a thrust from a lance, crept close to the wall and, followed by Nick Garth and Ram Jennings, turned the end of the stones, climbed on, and reached the stone-strewn cliffs behind. Then, knowing that the two men, in their fierce energy and hate, would be quite close, Mark turned suddenly, drew himself up, sword in hand-- his followers letting their pikes slip through their hands, and holding them close up to the heads--and leaped down inside the breastwork, his father simultaneously coming over at the other flank. There was not much force in either attack, but it proved effectual by its suddenness, throwing the defenders into confusion.