"Not you, sir," whispered the old fellow. "And I beg your pardon, Master Roy, and you've done me, and yourself too, a lot of good. It would ha' been horrid for the men to think you was scared. I never thought of frightening my lady with the row. Tell the lads to sponge the guns out with a bit o' rag, and then we'll run 'em back to their places again." Roy gave the order, and then had the sentry changed at the gate, after which there was another duty to have performed,--that of raising the drawbridge. "No fear of any one forgetting and walking into the moat at night, is there, Ben?" "Well, no, sir; I think not," said the old soldier, seriously. "You see, the bridge shuts up all the middle when it's raised, and that makes it sure, while at those sides nobody could tumble in without trying to; so I don't see no fear of that. Shall we haul her up, sir?" "Yes." And giving the order, as soon as the guns were in place, he led the way up into the furnace-chamber, where two men seized each chain, and the ponderous structure slowly rose as the huge weights descended the stone-work tubes in which they hung, the difficulty of hoisting the bridge proving to be much lighter than at the former trial. "Come, sir, that's safe. You won't set sentries to-night?" "No, of course not," said Roy; "that will be unnecessary till there is news of some enemy being near." CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE COMING OF RECRUITS. The next morning the carpenter was there with the capstan bars soon after the bridge was lowered; and upon these being tried, after the capstans and pulleys had been well greased, the portcullis was lowered and raised several times with the greatest facility, each time becoming more easy to move, while old Ben's eyes glistened, and he worked as if all these preparations for the defence of the place, with the possible shedding of blood and loss of life, had suddenly added a delightful zest to his existence. But he was not alone in this, for Roy found a strange exhilaration in his new position. There was something so novel in everything, and try how he would, it was hard to keep down a feeling of vanity, especially when he came upon his mother busily preparing a scarf for him to wear. "For me?" he said. "Oh, mother! it's too fine." "Not at all," she said, quietly. "Your men will like to see their leader look striking." "Ah, well," he replied, "I can't wear it while there is so much dirty work to do." "That will be done by the men. Roy, my boy, you must rise to your position, and give orders more for things to be done." "That's what old Ben says, and I am trying; but it's hard work while everything is so new, and--" "And what?" "It seems as if Master--Oh, no; it's too paltry to be talked about." "Tell me what it is, and I will be the judge." "Well, you know how poor Master Pawson was upset with the firing?" "Yes; and he ought to be very grateful to you for saving his life. Has he not thanked you?"