"But you should ha' stopped by us when the gun was fired, Master Roy," protested Ben. "I see them three chaps wink at each other, as much as to say, `He won't stand fire,' and it hurt me, sir, and seemed to be undoing all I did afore. I didn't think it of you." "I should like to kick you for thinking me such a coward," cried Roy, fiercely, for his encounter with the secretary had set his temper on edge. "How dare you! You had no business to fire till I came back. I did not want my mother to hear the report without some warning.--Here, corporal, give me that light." The man stepped up with it, and Roy took it out of his hand. "Going to fire this one, sir?" said Ben, eagerly. "Of course. Stand aside!" And Roy applied the sparkling port-fire to the bit of prepared oakum standing out of the touch-hole, with the result that it, too, began to sparkle and fume. "There," he said; "I hope Master Pawson won't come back and be frightened by this one." He had hardly uttered the words when the secretary reappeared. "Where are all the servants?" he cried, angrily. "I want some one to come and brush my clothes." "Stand aside!" shouted Ben. "She'll run right back." But the secretary did not understand what was meant, and turned haughtily upon the speaker, totally unconscious of the fact that he was exactly behind the breech of the piece, whose recoil might have produced fatal results. It was no time for uttering warnings, and Roy knew it. He glanced once at the tiny sparkling going on at the touch-hole of the gun, and sprang right at the secretary, driving him backward and falling heavily with him to the ground. It was none too soon, for the gun went off with a tremendous roar, leaping up from the paving and running back on its low wheels right over the spot where the secretary had just stood. "Guns is guns, and always was," said Ben, very grimly; "and them as has to do with 'em wants to know all their little ways. I have know'd a man's arm took off by the recoil, and, if you don't take care, their breeches is as dangerous to them as fires 'em as is their muzzles." "Hurt, sir?" cried Roy, offering his hand after gaining his own feet, ready to help the tutor to rise. Master Pawson made no reply, neither did he take the extended hand, but rose and walked away limping, going right down through the pleasaunce so as to reach his own room without having to pass through the corridor. "Bit rusty, I s'pose, sir," said Ben, quietly. "I am afraid so, Ben," was the reply. "But I don't think there's much doubt about the powder." "Doubt, sir; why, it's stronger than they makes now, or else it has got riper and better for keeping. We're all right there." "Yes, capital! but that report rings in my ears still." "Ay, sir, a brass gun can ring as well as roar; but you won't mind it after a few times." "I don't feel to mind it now," said Roy, coolly.