“Another, Rugg,” said Sir Edward laconically, and Dan, who had a bag ready, primed with fuse, laid it on the stony floor, picked it up on the point of a pike, and advanced to place it against the wall.
A couple of thrusts were made at it directly, but he lowered it, and the enemy could not force their points down low enough to reach it. But as Dan placed it against the bottom of the wall the pikes were aimed now at his breast.
“Back!” roared Sir Edward, as Mark rushed at the man to drag him away.
“All right, Master Mark,” said Dan coolly; “my arms and my pike are as long as theirs. They can’t reach me. They’ve got all the thickness of the wall to push through as well;” and he coolly placed the powder-bag and arranged the fuse ready for being lighted.
“I did not think of that, Dan,” said Mark.
“Ay, but I did,” said the old fellow, chuckling. “Now, Dummy, my boy, son, bring a lighted torch.”
Dummy trotted forward, and they heard a growl from beyond the wall, as the miner thrust the point of his pike into the end of the torch, and then reached out toward the fuse, but only succeeded in getting it half-way before it was knocked off the point of his weapon.
“Ah, deal o’ good that’s done,” growled Dan, trying to drive the point of his pike into the torch again. “There,” he shouted, “run for it; I can reach to pitch it up to the bag.”
The men on the other side did not grasp the fact that if Dan did this his companions would fare worse than they, but scuffled off at once, their steps being plainly heard.
“Fools!” growled Dan, and stepping forward, he picked up the torch, went close up to the wall, and touched the end of the fuse, which began to sparkle at once.