The Young Castellan: A Tale of the English Civil WarFenn, George Manville
History
The Young Castellan: A Tale of the English Civil War
Fenn, George Manville
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
"Sergeant Martlet, corporal, Raynes, all of you, we have done our duty,
and it is hopeless to fight longer. You are the only men left. To
resist is to give all your lives for nothing. March out and throw down
your arms."
A groan rose from within, and a figure came to the door-way.
"Don't say that, Master Roy," cried Ben, hoarsely. "Couldn't we do it
if we held out?"
"No; they will blow the place up. The powder is waiting. I am your
captain; I order you to surrender now."
"Master Roy! Master Roy!" cried the old soldier in a piteous voice; "it
was no doing of mine. I was on the alert. Don't think it was any fault
of mine."
"Fault of yours, Ben?" cried Roy. "No, nor mine neither."
"But how did they get in, sir?"
"By the secret passage that we could not find."
"But how? Where can it be?"
"I've been thinking, Ben. I don't know for certain; but it must open
into Master Pawson's room."
"And he let 'em through?"
"Yes; filling the corridors silently with troops while I slept."
"The traitor! Then that was the signal, boy. Oh, my lad, my lad, why
didn't I kill him when I thought it must be he? What about repairing
the stone gallows now?"
"I--don't understand you."
"The lowering of the flag, sir--the lowering of the flag."
"Yes," said the officer, who had advanced to them unobserved in the
gloom of the archway; "that was the signal, sergeant. You were betrayed
from within. Step out now with your men, like the brave fellow you are.
Give me your hand; and let me tell you that I don't believe I could
have taken the place without."
"Am I to surrender, Master Roy?" said the old fellow, bitterly.
"Yes, Ben; it is all over now."
The hilt of a sword was thrust out as the old soldier held it to the
officer by the blade.
"Shake hands with that, sir," he said, bitterly. "I'm a king's man
still.--Forward!"
This to his brave companions; and as they marched slowly out and gave up
their arms, a tremendous roar arose from all assembled in the
court-yard.
It was no derisive cry, no jeer at the conquered, but a full-throated
cheer of admiration for the brave little party, blood-stained, bandaged
roughly, three of them hardly able to keep their feet; and Roy's heart
once more swelled within him in spite of his despair, for he noticed in
the gloom that the officer in command took off his helmet as the men
marched by into the court; and then, as he replaced it, he said quietly
to Roy--
"All this is not necessary, sir.--Quick, one of you; untie this
gentleman's hands."
For the first time that night, Roy felt giddy and sick with pain. But
he roused himself directly, for Master Pawson came up, and spoke quickly
in a low voice to the officer, who replied coldly, and with a ring of
contempt in all as he said, loudly--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account