“Then you have come to meet him?”
“No,” said the boy; “I didn’t know he had sent. I came to warn you not to be alarmed, for we are just going to fire.”
Boom!
A report like thunder made the casements rattle as if they were being dashed in. This was followed by an echoing roar, and then came a yelling cry as of some one in agony.
“Oh, my boy, what has happened?” cried Lady Royland, starting from her chair, clapping her hands to her ears, and then sinking back palpitating in the nearest chair. “Run and see; something terrible must have occurred.”
Roy had already dashed to the door, and he ran out and along to the great gate-way, where his mother’s words seemed to be verified, for, on reaching the spot where the gun which had been fired had run back a short distance, there was the knot of men half hidden by the smoke that was slowly rising, and in front of them, just below the portcullis, lay, apparently lifeless, the figure of Master Pawson, face downward upon the flags.
“What have you done, Ben?” cried the boy.
“Done? I never done it,” growled the man, fiercely. “You runned away; so I put the light to the gun myself, and then we all stood and waited, till all at wunst Master Pawson comes round the corner like. I dunno how he come there; and off goes the gun and down goes he.”
Roy was already upon one knee, turning the secretary over on his back and examining him for the terrible injury he felt must have been received. But as Roy was proceeding to open his collar, he opened his eyes, sprang up into a sitting position, and then began to abuse the boy fiercely.
“You did it on purpose,” he cried; “and it’s a mercy it did not kill me.”