The Young Castellan: A Tale of the English Civil War

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

  HOW THE CASTLE CAME BACK TO ITS OWNER.

  Shrieks and cries for help mingled with the blast of a trumpet and thetrampling of feet, as Roy hurried on his clothes, his first thoughtbeing not to follow his father, but to reach his mother's room, though,in the confusion of brain from which he suffered, he felt that he couldexplain nothing about the cause of the explosion. All he could thinkwas that by some means the Cavaliers must have contrived to gain accessto the powder-magazine. But how?

  That was a mystery.

  While he hurriedly dressed, he could hear orders being given, and theguns which had been brought in and planted beneath the gate-way beingdragged into the middle of the court, and planted where they wouldcommand the terrible breach in the castle defences; for, by a flickeringlight, which was now rising, falling, and always gathering in intensity,Roy could see that a large portion of the eastern side of the buildingwas blown down, leaving a tremendous gap. The stabling, corridor,hospital-room, and servants' and other adjacent chambers, were gone; andas he gazed across from his open window, the light suddenly blazed up,brightly illuminating the ruin, and showing the garrison busilypreparing for their defence.

  It was time; for, as Roy paused for a few moments, hesitating to leavethe scene which fascinated him by its weird horror, the Royalists werecrossing the half-filled-in moat, scrambling, wading, helping eachother, and cheering madly. There was no formation; they were forced tocome on straggling as they could, but a fierce enthusiasm filled theirbreasts, and they literally swarmed into the ruins, and climbed here andthere among the flames and smoke.

  Fully expecting to be stopped, Roy opened his door; but the sentry hadbeen summoned with those from the towers and ramparts to defend thegreat gap, and Roy passed on to his mother's room, entered withoutstopping to knock, to see her surrounded by the women-servants at thewindow, their faces lit up by the flames rising brighter and brighterfrom the ruins.

  Lady Royland did not hear her son enter, but turned and caught his handsas he ran to her.

  "Roy!" she cried, wildly. "What does this mean?"

  "Our turn at last, mother," he said, wild with excitement. "Look,--lookat them, the Royalists; they've blown down that side, and father isthere with two hundred Cavaliers!"

  "Roy!" she cried, hysterically.

  "Yes," continued the lad, as he forced himself to the front, and gazedout; "look, mother; nothing stops them. Hurrah! More and more, and--"

  The roar of one of the guns from the middle of the court drowned hiswords, and there was another roar, but the effect was little. The gunswere discharged point-blank at the storming party climbing on the ruins;but they were scattered like skirmishers, and the gun-fire did not checkthem in the least. To Roy it only seemed that they dashed in morefuriously, swarming, by the light of the blazing ruins, like bees; andbefore the guns could be reloaded, the Cavaliers were upon the defendersof the place, and a desperate hand-to-hand fight commenced.

  Roy turned excitedly to his mother.

  "Stop here; keep the women with you, and don't go near the window; theremay be firing;" and, even as he spoke, shots began to ring out.

  "Stop! Where are you going?" cried Lady Royland, clinging to him.

  "To release our men, and help my father," said Roy.

  Lady Royland's hands fell to her sides, and the boy darted out of theroom and along the corridor, full of the idea that had flashed into hisbrain.

  Away to the end he ran unchallenged, turned to the right, and withoutmeeting a soul, reached the north-east tower, listening to the shoutingand clashing of swords in the court as the desperate fight went on, hisway lit by the glare from the flames in spite of the dense, heavy smokeand the choking fumes of exploded gunpowder which rolled along thepassage.

  With his heart beating wildly for fear he should be too late, Roy dasheddown the spiral staircase to the basement, and the next minute hereached the door of the lower hall, which formed the men'sprison-chamber.

  The sentries were gone, and he thrust back the bolts and turned theponderous key.

  "Ben! Corporal! Donny! All of you--quick!"

  "Ay, ay, sir. You're only just in time, for we're most smothered. Whatdoes it all mean?"

  "Don't talk! Follow me--guard-room. Enemy all in the court."

  He led the way back, the men literally staggering after him, halfsuffocated as they had been by the fumes of the powder, the explosionhaving been so near their prison. But they revived moment by moment inthe pure air, and growing excited by the sounds that reached them fromthe court-yard, they followed on along the lower passages till theyreached the crypt of the south-west tower, passed on to the stairway atthe base of the gate tower, and ascended unchallenged to the greatgate-way, where Roy dashed into the untenanted guard-room, and the menrapidly armed themselves with weapons from the racks.

  "Ready?" said Roy, in a whisper.

  "Yes," came in a deep, excited growl.

  "Back, then," cried Roy, "and we'll attack them in the rear."

  He ranged his men in the shadow, the combatants being wildly engagedamid a blaze of light, which prevented the movements of Roy's littleparty being seen; and he was about to lead them back through the greatcorridor to where they could dash out suddenly and make their diversionin the rear, when Ben suddenly laid his hand upon the boy's arm, and ranto one of the narrow slits of windows in the guard-room.

  "Trampling of horses," he whispered, as he peered out, the glow upwardnow lighting the other side of the moat. "General's men coming back,sir. Take us up into the portcullis-room, and we must defend that andkeep it and the furnace-chamber to the death. They must not come in."

  Roy grasped the position, knowing well enough that as soon as thedefenders knew of the return of their friends, they would admit them,and the Cavaliers would suffer defeat.

  Giving the word, he dashed up the spiral followed by his men, and asthey stood ready to defend the place to the last, and keep bridge andportcullis as they were, he stepped up into the window and thrust outhis head, to see dimly a body of about fifty horsemen, who galloped upto the edge of the moat.

  "Halt!" shouted their leader. "No good: impossible. We must rideround, dismount, and join Royland through the breach. Forward!"

  "Halt!" shrieked Roy with all his force in his cry, and then in a voicehe did not know as his own, he yelled out, "Royland! Royland! God savethe king!"

  The effect was electrical. His words were answered by a loud "hurrah!"

  Roy looked back from the window-splay.

  "Friends!" he panted. "Ben, up with you, and lower the bridge;" and asthe old sergeant sprang to the staircase, followed by five more, theothers seized the capstan-bars and began to hoist the portcullis; while,sword in hand, Roy stood on the narrow stair, determined to die soonerthan an enemy should pass.

  But the next minute the bridge was down, with the defenders in ignoranceof what was going on; the first knowledge they had of what was to comebeing given by the thunder of the horses' hoofs, and a deafening cheeras the Cavaliers dashed in.

  That charge decided the fight, for in less than five minutes, in spiteof the officer's desperate valour, the defenders broke and fled, to takerefuge in corridor and chamber, from whence they could fire upon theirenemies.

  But, half-mad now with excitement, and flushed by the certainty ofvictory, the Cavaliers, headed by Sir Granby Royland, went in pursuit,chasing the Parliamentary party through the passages, never giving themtime to combine, capturing knot after knot, and forcibly driving therest below, where, feeling that all was over, their captain ended thecarnage by offering to surrender. Then the triumphant Cavaliersgathered in the court-yard, waving hat and sword in the bright light ofthe burning building, and raising the echoes with their shouts.

  It was about this time that Roy, followed by his little party, soughtout his father, to find him at last, busy, like the careful soldier hewas, stationing men at the towers, and then arranging for a properdefence of the great ga
p in the castle side, though temporarily it wasnow well defended by a line of flames that no man could pass.

  Roy gazed in dismay at the blackened, blood-stained man, bleeding fromtwo fresh wounds, and was ready to wonder whether this was the gallant,handsome cavalier who had left the castle to go on the king's service soshort a time before.

  "Ah! my brave, true boy!" cried Sir Granby, catching him by theshoulders; "old Martlet tells me how you led them to open a way for ourfriends. It was the work of a good soldier, Roy. You'll be a generalyet. What do you say?" he continued, with a laugh; "as I am now?There, everything is safe for the present. Where is your mother? Am Ifit to see her, though?"

  Roy said nothing, but clung to the hand that grasped his; and a fewminutes later Sir Granby was locked in his wife's arms.

  By this time a strong party had been formed to attack the flames; and asthere was an abundance of water from the moat, the day broke upon thequenching of the last burst of fire, and revealed a sad scene ofdesolation, the side of the castle on the east being one long hollowrange of burnt-out buildings, saving the hospital-room, which hadescaped, with a wide gap of tottering and piled-up ruins where themagazine had exploded, hurling great masses of stone into the court-yardand the moat.

  The fire mastered, Sir Granby commenced forming a rough breastwork ofthe stones, using for the most part all that could be dragged from themoat, the Cavaliers wading in and working like labourers to strengthenthe breach, which towards evening began to look strong with the roughplatforms made for the enemy's three heavy guns. The work was so farcompleted none too soon, for just at dusk a body of men was seenapproaching in the distance, and General Hepburn soon after appeared, tofind that he had been outwitted in turn, and that a long siege would benecessary before he could hope to be master of the place again.

  That long siege followed; and at last, weakened by loss of men andreduced from want of food, the Cavaliers were unable to combat theterrible assault delivered by the little army that had gradually beengathered about the walls, and the castle fell once more into the handsof the Parliamentarians, who were generous enough to treat the gallantdefenders with the honours they deserved.

  "But they would never have taken it, Roy," said Sir Granby, "if that gaphad not been blown out. I'd give something to know how it occurred.Could it have been done by that villain Pawson out of despite?"

  It was long before the truth was known, when, after years of exile withhis wife and son, Sir Granby Royland returned to take possession of hisruined castle and estate. For the young king had ridden into London,and his father's defenders were being made welcome to their homes.

  It happened during the excavating that went on, while the masons were atwork digging out and cleaning all the stones which would be availablefor rebuilding the shattered side, that Sir Granby wrote a letter toCaptain Roy Royland, the young officer in the body-guard of his majesty,King Charles the Second. The letter was full of congratulations to theyoung man on his promotion, and towards the end Sir Granby said--

  "I have kept your mother away from the work going on, for I have beenafraid that the digging would mean the turning over of plenty of sadmementoes of that terrible time; but, strangely enough, thesediscoveries have been confined to two. You remember how we wonderedthat Master Palgrave Pawson never showed himself again, to takepossession of the place he schemed to win, and how often we wonderedwhat became of poor old Jenk. Well, in one day, Roy, the men came uponthe poor old man crouched up in a corner of the vault, close to themagazine. From what we could judge, the powder must have exerted itsforce upward, for several of the places where the stones were clearedout were almost uninjured, and this was especially so where they foundold Jenk. The poor fellow must have been striking his blow against hismaster's enemies, for, when the stones were removed, he lay there with alantern and a coil of slow-match beneath, showing what his object musthave been in going down to the magazine. The other discovery was thatof the remains of my scoundrel of a secretary. They came upon himcrushed beneath the stones which fell upon the east rampart, where,perhaps you remember, there was a little shelter for the guard. MasterPawson must have been on the ramparts that night, and perished in theexplosion.

  "Come home soon, Roy, my lad; we want to see you again. They ought togive you leave of absence now, and by the time you get here, I hope tohave the old garden restored, and looking something like itself oncemore. The building will, however, take another year.

  "Roy, my boy, they bury soldiers, as you know, generally where theyfall; and your mother and I thought that if poor old Jenk could havechosen his resting-place, it might have been where we laid him. As youremember, the old sun-dial in the middle of the court was levelled bythe explosion. It has been restored to its place, and it is beneath thestones that your grandfather's faithful old servant lies at rest.

  "Ben Martlet begs me to remember him to you, and says it will do hiseyes good to see you again; and your mother, who writes to you as well,says you must come now. My wounds worry me a good deal at times, and Idon't feel so young as I was; but there, as your mother says, what doesit matter now we can rest in peace? for we live again in another, ourown son--Roy."

  THE END.