Roy followed the old soldier's commands, and, buckling on the sword, hurried with him down to the outer gate, just as the venerable old retainer slammed it to with a heavy, jarring sound, and challenged the horsemen, whom he could hardly see, to halt. "Well done, old man!" muttered Ben. "The right stuff, Master Roy, though he is ninety-four." "What is it?" cried Roy, as he reached the gate, where the men were dismounting and patting their weary troop-horses. "Despatches for Lady Royland," said one, who seemed to be the leader. "Are you Master Roy, Sir Granby's son?" "Yes. Have you come from my father?" "Yes, sir, and made all the haste we could; but we've left two brave lads on the road." "What! their horses broke down?" "No, sir," said the man, significantly; "but they did." He took off his cap as he spoke, and displayed a bandage round his forehead. "My mate there's got his shoulder ploughed, too, by a bullet." "Open the gates, Jenks," cried Roy. "One moment, sir," whispered Ben. "Get the despatches and see if they're in your father's writing." "Right," whispered back Roy. "Here!--your despatches." "No, sir," said the man, firmly. "That's what they asked who barred the way. Sir Granby's orders were to place 'em in his lady's hands." "Quite right," said Roy. "But show them to me and let me see my father's hand and seal." "Yes, that's right enough, sir," said the man. "We might be enemies;" and he unstrapped a wallet slung from his right shoulder, took out a great letter tied with silk and sealed, and held it out, first on one side, then upon the other, for the boy to see. "Yes," cried Roy, eagerly, "that's my father's writing, and it is his seal. Open the gate, Jenkin, and let them in. Why, my lads, you look worn-out." "Not quite, sir; but we've had a rough time of it. The country's full of crop-ears, and we've had our work cut out to get here safe." "Full of what?" said Roy, staring, as the troopers led in their horses, and he walked beside the man who bore the despatches. "Crop-ears, sir,--Parliamentary men." "Is it so bad as that?" "Bad? Yes, sir." "But my father--how is he?" "Well and hearty when he sent us off, sir." "Come quickly then," cried Roy, hurrying the men along to the great drawbridge, over which the horses' hoofs began to rattle loudly. But they had not gone half-way across the moat before there was the rustle of a dress in front, and, looking ghastly pale and her eyes wild with excitement, Lady Royland came hurrying to meet them. Roy sprang to her, crying-- "Letters from father, and he is quite well!" He caught his mother in his arms, for her eyes closed and she reeled and would have fallen; but the next minute she had recovered her composure, and held out her hand for the packet the trooper had taken from his wallet.