MASTER PAWSON GIVES HIS OPINIONS. "You're quite turning everything into military style, Ben," said Roy, as they left the armoury. "Yes, sir; nothing like it. Keep the men up to the mark." "But isn't it comic to speak of the people as the troops?" "No, sir; not a bit. Troops are troops whether there's many or few. It's serious work is fighting, and, with due respect to you, sir, there's nothing comic in treating our new levies as if they were seasoned men." All the same, though, Roy felt that he could not agree with his companion, when they reached the great gate-way, now, for the time being, made the parade ground. To his eyes the aspect of the place was decidedly comic, and his first impulse upon seeing the familiar figures of butler, footman, grooms, and gardeners, looking stiff and awkward in their heavy buff coats, creased and angular for want of use, was to burst out laughing. But he did not even smile, for he could see that the men were glancing at him consciously, and he knew that any such display of mirth at their personal appearance would have had a most disastrous effect. As it was, he behaved very wisely, for when Ben shouted out an order for them to fall into line, Roy advanced to the men at once with a few encouraging remarks. "The accoutrements and things have been lying by so long," he said, "that they must be very uncomfortable and stiff." "Yes, sir, they really are," said the butler, shaking his head. "You feel as if you can't move in them; and my steel cap is terribly heavy." "You'll find them grow more easy to wear after a bit," said Roy, at a venture. "I see you are pretty well fitted, and--What's that, Ben?" For voices came from the gate-way beyond the drawbridge, a hundred yards from where they were standing. "I'll see, sir," said Ben, importantly, as he drew himself to the salute. "Beg pardon, sir," he added in a low tone; "be better now if you'd make everything soldierly and speak to me as sergeant. Don't see why my old rank shouldn't tell now, and it will help me with the three troopers, for one of 'em's a corporal." Roy nodded, and directly after followed his sergeant, for he began to have an inkling of what was going on. As he crossed the drawbridge, it was in time to hear Master Pawson say, in his high-pitched voice and in a tone of anger that was quite new-- "Oh, there you are, Martlet! What is the meaning of all this folly? Rogers dressed up, and telling me I can't come in without an order from her ladyship." "Quite right, sir," said Ben, steadily; "only he didn't know he was to let in any one belonging to the place." "But what does it mean? I've been out since morning, and I return to find the gate locked, and a man playing at being a sentry. Why, Roy, my dear boy, surely this is not some bad joke of yours?" "Unfasten the gate, Rogers, and let Master Pawson in," said Roy, with his face turning scarlet; and, seeing his look of confusion, the secretary continued--