“I just think I will, sir. I’m very particular about no harm coming to Sergeant Benjamin Martlet; and as to doing anything that might mean risks for my lady—but there, I needn’t say nothing about that. You can come and see me put ’em away.”
Roy insisted upon carrying one of the kegs, in spite of the old soldier’s opposition, not to relieve him of the load, but as a lesson to himself in the art of getting used to the dangerous composition. In addition, it had occurred to him that he should have to be present when the barrels were opened, and the gun or guns fired to test their utility and strength after lying by for so many years. Roy had never even heard a big gun fired, and he told himself that it would not do for him to display the slightest dread before the men.
Consequently he hid his nervousness, and helped to deposit the kegs in the great cupboard which contained Ben’s tools and cleaning apparatus.
“There!” said that individual, “as soon as we’ve had our parade, and dismissed the troops, we’ll see to that powder, and find out what it’s like.”
He thrust the key into his pocket, buckled on his sword again, and, drawing himself up, asked the “captain” to lead the way to the entrance gate.
Chapter Eleven.
Master Pawson gives his Opinions.
“You’re quite turning everything into military style, Ben,” said Roy, as they left the armoury.