“Fished you out one day, didn’t he, Master Roy!”
“To be sure, yes; I had almost forgotten that. I had escaped from the nurse and tumbled in.”
“Ah! he’s been a fine old fellow,” said Ben. “I used to think he was a great worry sticking out for doing this and doing that, when he wasn’t a bit of good and only in the way; but somehow, Master Roy, I began to feel that some day I might be just as old and stupid and no more use, and that made me fancy something else.”
“What was that, Ben?” said Roy, for the old soldier had paused.
“Well, sir, I began to think that I was growing into a vain old fool after all, or else I should have seen that old Jenk was perhaps of more use here than I am. Can’t you see, Master Roy?”
“I can’t see what you mean, Ben.”
“Why, that old chap’s about the finest sample of a reg’lar soldier that these young fellows can have. I believe if the enemy did come, that old man would draw the sword that shakes in his weak old hand, and march right away to meet ’em as bravely as the best here.”
“I’m sure he would, Ben,” said Roy, warmly.
“Then he’s one of our best men still, sir. Come on—I mean give the order, sir, and let’s go our rounds.”
Then, in the silence of the dark night, Roy led the way to the winding stair, and mounted silently to the ramparts, closely followed by Ben with the blinded lantern, and on reaching the top, they walked on to the left to the south-west tower; but before they could reach it a firm voice challenged them from the top. Then after giving the pass they went on through the tower and out onto the western ramparts, turning now to where the north-west tower loomed up all in darkness.