"But I aren't, Master Roy. It's on'y a bit cut; and I want to have a stick and come up on the tower in case we have to work that gun." "If you want to help to work that gun again, Sam, you will have to lie still and let your wound heal." "Master Roy!--I mean oh, cap'n--it's worse than the wound to hear that." "We can't help it. Tell me, are you in much pain?" "Oh, it hurts a bit, sir; but if I was busy I should forget that, and--" _Crash_!--_Boom_! A strange breaking sound, and the rattling of the windows as a heavy report followed directly after, and Roy sprang from the chair he had taken by the wounded man's couch. "On'y hark, sir--that was my gun atop o' the gate tower begun firing, and me not there." "Be patient, Sam," cried Roy, excitedly. "It was not one of our guns, but the enemy's, and the fight has begun in earnest. Good-bye, and lie still." He was half across the room as he said this, and the door opened to admit Lady Royland, looking deadly pale. "Roy, my boy," she cried, in a low, pained voice, as she caught his hands; "they are firing." "Yes, mother; and so will we," cried the lad, excitedly. "You--you will not expose yourself rashly," she whispered; "you will take care?" "I'm going to try not to do anything foolish, mother," he said; "but I must be with the men." She clung to him wildly, and her lips trembled as she tried to speak; but no words came, and Roy bent forward, kissed her, and tried to withdraw his hands, but they were too tightly held. _Boom_! came another report following closely upon a peculiar whizzing sound, apparently over the open window. "Another gun from the enemy, and we're doing nothing," said Roy, impatiently. "Mother, don't stop me; they will think I'm afraid. I must be with the men." Lady Royland drew a deep breath, and her face became fixed and firm once more, though the pallor seemed intensified. "Yes," she said, quickly, as she threw her arms about her son for a brief embrace; "you must be with your men, Roy. Go, and remember my prayers are with you always. Good-bye!" "Just for a while," he cried. "You shall soon have news of how we are going on." CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. GOING UNDER FIRE. Roy ran out of the room, leaving the old housekeeper, who was waiting outside, to close the door, and dashed down the few stairs and out into the court-yard, where the greater part of their little force was drawn up on either side of the gate-way, looking very serious and troubled; but as soon as he appeared they burst into a cheer, to which Roy answered by waving his hand. "The game has begun," he cried. "Yes, sir," said one of the troopers, who with Farmer Raynes was in command of the men; "first shot struck the tower full, and splintered down some stone. Better mind how you cross the gate-way." "Yes," said Roy, quickly; "I will." And he ran across to the door-way at the foot of the big spiral, reaching it just as a shot came whizzing overhead, and a heavy report followed.