"Yes, sir, I s'pose you did; and this here's a world o' trouble, and the longer you lives in it the more you finds out as you can't do what you like, so you grins and bears it; but the grinning's about the hardest part o' the job. You're 'bliged to bear it, but you aren't 'bliged to grin; and, when the grins do come, you never has a looking-glass afore you, but you allus feels as if you never looked so ugly afore in your life." "But you'll have to help me in other things, Ben." "Shall I, sir? Don't seem to me as there's anything else as I can help you over." "Oh, but there is,--while the war keeps my father away." "War, sir? Nonsense! You don't call a bit of a riot got up by some ragged Jacks war." "No; but this is getting to be a very serious affair, according to what Master Pawson told my mother this morning." "Master Pawson, sir! Why, what does he know about it?" "A good deal, it seems. Some friends of his in London send him news, and they said it is going to be a terrible civil war." "And me not up there with Sir Granby!" groaned the man. "Oh, dear! oh, dear! it's a wicked, rusty old world!" "But I've promised to help my mother all I can, Ben, and you must promise to help me." "Of course, sir; that you know. But say, sir, war breaking out, and we all rusted up like this! We ought to be ready for anything." "So I thought, Ben; but my mother says there's not likely to be trouble in this out-of-the-way place." "Then bless my dear lady's innocence! says Ben Martlet, and that's me, sir. Why, you never knows where a spark may drop and the fire begin to run." "No, Ben." "And if this is sure to be such a peaceful spot, why did the old Roylands build the castle and make a moat and drawbridge, and all the rest of it? They didn't mean the moat for nothing else, sir, but carp, tench, and eels." "And pike, Ben." "No, sir. They thought of very different kind of pikes, sir, I can tell you,--same as they I've got on the walls yonder in sheaves. But there; her ladyship gives the word to you, and you gives it to me, and I shouldn't be worth calling a soldier if I didn't do as I was ordered, and directly, too, and--Hark!" The old soldier held up his hand. "Horses!" cried Roy, excitedly. "Why, who's coming here?" CHAPTER SEVEN. NEWS FROM THE WAR. Roy and the old soldier hurried to a slit which gave on the road, and the latter began to breathe hard with excitement as his eyes rested upon three dusty-looking horsemen, well-mounted, and from whose round-topped, spiked steel caps the sun flashed from time to time. "Why, they're dragoons!" cried the old fellow, excitedly. "Enemies, perhaps, and we're without a drawbridge as'll pull up. Here, quick, take a sword, Master Roy. Here's mine. Let's make a show. They won't know but what there's dozens of us."