"Ay, Captain Chaloner. I trove he is already known to you? Failing which, the castle will be carried by storm, and no quarter given to the garrison or inmates." "Is that all?" "Verily, 'tis enough," replied the cornet haughtily. "And most comprehensive, even to a malignant." "Withdraw, sir!" I exclaimed hotly, "or your flag of truce will not protect you. This message to the renegade Chaloner: If he want the castle, let him come for it in person!" "Which he will do ere long," retorted the cornet, and, wheeling his horse, he galloped back to the rebel lines. So I had not slain Chaloner, after all. The news astounded me. Surely the villain must bear a charmed life. But I resolved to take the first opportunity of preventing the recreant officer from ever setting foot within the castle, save as a prisoner or a corpse. The enemy lost no time in ordering the attack. The dismounted dragoons and musketeers, under cover of their trenches and the woods nearest the castle, opened a hot fire, and soon there was a semicircle of white smoke drifting lazily upwards in the still air of that memorable afternoon. [Illustration: _Ralph Granville and the pikeman were locked in an unyielding embrace, and, before I could prevent the catastrophe, Ralph was dragged through the embrasure and disappeared._] We paid no heed to their fire, being well protected by the walls and gabions. Of arms we had plenty, every man having not less than six loaded muskets lying within arm's length, while each piece of ordnance was loaded to the muzzle with small shot. After a while the rebels, thinking no doubt that their fire had demoralised us, sent out a strong body of pikemen. Many of them bore bundles of hay and straw; others long planks and ladders, with which they hoped to cross the moat and carry the walls by storm. The most experienced commander would have found no fault with our men, for in perfect silence and under complete control they kept behind the breastworks, ready to spring up and open a furious fire on the advancing pikemen. Firestone, his head enclosed in a steel motion, walked slowly up and down the roof of the hall, smoking a long clay pipe, which he removed at intervals to give a word of advice to the men on the handling of their pieces. Granville and I took up our position on the gatehouse tower, where ten of the best of our musketeers were held in readiness, while at the narrow window of the ground floor more men were placed to open fire on those of the pikemen who succeeded in reaching the brink of the moat. "Are any of our men hit?" I asked of Sergeant Lawson, who had just joined us with a message from Colonel Firestone. "No, sir," he replied. "The sly dogs lie close."