I hastened to explain the nature of this admirable contrivance as given by worthy Master Royston, and, on arriving at our lines, I sent Lawson to get the novel article from the baggage. We talked till late in the evening, my parent plying me with questions concerning affairs at home, and telling us of the events of the last few weeks. "Dost know that, according to the rebel order, Ashley Castle no longer belongs to the Markhams?" asked my father. "Nay, sir," I replied. "What dost thou mean; is it a jest?" "Hardly a jest, Humphrey. Only yester-night we surprised a rebel despatch-bearer on the road near Stratford, and amongst other papers was a list of manors and castles to be bestowed by the Parliament on their chief supporters, and amongst the places named was mine own castle." "And on whom is it bestowed?" "On one Captain Chaloner." "Captain Chaloner!" exclaimed Firestone. "Why, 'tis the man who allowed the rebels to seize Southsea Castle, the same who was hand in glove with the turncoat, Goring." "He's to gain possession of Ashley Castle first," rejoined my father grimly; "and 'tis certain that, so long as my wife keeps watch and ward, no doubly-dyed rebel will set foot over my threshold--but how came Portsmouth to fall, considering it was well fortified and supplied with munition of war?" We thereupon had to tell my father the events that led to Goring's feeble and faint-hearted pretence of holding the town for the King, and, at the story of Chaloner's treacherous incapacity, my parent shook his fist in impotent rage. At length it was time for us to retire to our own tent, and, having inflated the air-bed for my father's use by means of a pump, we bade him good night. Late into the night sounds of revelry disturbed the camp, men gaming or singing in uproarious discord, till gradually the babel died away, and silence reigned over the sleeping town of tents, broken only by the frequent voices of the sentries on guard without the lines. It was my first experience of camp life, and sleep seemed a stranger to me. The hard ground found out the weak places in my anatomy, till my shoulder-blades and hips were sore and aching, for as yet I knew nothing of the old campaigners' trick of hollowing out the earth to accommodate these protuberances and I lay and longed for the dawn. Suddenly an alarm echoed through the stillness of the night, and instantly the camp was alive with men rushing hither and thither. Our tent turned out to a man, and, putting on our steel caps, and buckling on our sword-belts as we ran, we formed up in an irregular line outside the camp, in expectation of a sudden attack, yet, though an outpost of musketeers discharged their weapons, there came no answering volley from the supposed enemy.