A moment later, as if it were an answer to her prayer, a voice, softened by the distance, was heard from the ramparts somewhere above uttering the familiar reply to a challenge-- "All's well!" CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. ROY GETS OVER HIS FIT. The dawn came, and Lady Royland still knelt by the couch where her son slept heavily. She did not stir till the sun rose, and then she rose softly to go to the narrow slit in the massive wall, reach as far as she could into the deep splay, and gaze out. She sighed, for far-away in the distance she could see mounted men with the sun flashing from their armour. She turned back, for she had learned all she wished to know--the enemy was still there; and, wondering what that day might bring forth, she went and sat down now by her son's head to watch him as he slept. The time crept on with the sounds of the awakening household mingled with the clangour of the morning calls and the tramp of armed men floating in through the window; but the watcher did not stir till the door was opened, and a couple of the maids appeared, to start back in affright, after a wondering glance at the untouched meal upon the table, for Lady Royland rose quickly with a gesture to them to be silent. They crept away, and she followed to the door. "Prepare the breakfast in the library," she said, and then returned to her seat. The clock chimed and struck again and again, but Roy did not wake; and at last one of the maids came and tapped very softly. "Breakfast is quite ready, my lady," she whispered. "I am not coming till my son wakes," replied Lady Royland. "Ask Master Pawson not to wait." "He's not down yet, my lady," said the woman. "Very well: ask him not to wait when he does come. The gentlemen are weary after the troubles of a very anxious night." The woman went away, and Lady Royland returned to her seat, to bend over her son again as he lay there breathing evenly, still plunged in his deep sleep; and then at its stated intervals, the clock in the gate-way chimed, and chimed, and struck, and struck again, to mark off the second hour before there was another tap at the door, and the maid announced in a whisper that Sergeant Martlet was asking for Captain Roy. "Send him here," said her ladyship, "and bid him come in gently." "Yes, my lady," said the woman; "and, if you please, my lady, Master Pawson has just come down, and is having his breakfast." "Very good," said Lady Royland, coldly, and the maid retired. Five minutes later, the old soldier, fully armed, came softly to the door, was admitted, and stood upon the thick carpet, saluting his lady. She pointed to the couch, and a grim smile of satisfaction crossed the soldier's deeply-lined face. "He was quite worn-out and exhausted," said Lady Royland, in a whisper, as she crossed to where Ben stood,--"too faint and troubled with the cares and anxieties of this weary business even to eat." "But he has slept, my lady?" whispered Ben. "Ever since."