That was a challenge, followed by a shot, and the rush of feet as the sentries thrown out ran back. This was followed by the trampling of hoofs, and the shouting of orders, as a small body of horse made a dash at the working-party, sweeping by the gate, but only to be received by a scattered volley as they were dimly seen riding out of the black darkness and disappearing again. But not without coming to the closest of close quarters, for there was the clashing noise of swords striking against steel, and, in the brief time occupied by their passing, blows were returned amidst angry shouting, and several dull thuds told that the blows had taken effect on horse or man.
It was merely the work of moments, the charge having been delivered from the left by a party of mounted men who had evidently been reconnoitring along by the edge of the moat, and came up at a slow walk unheard by the sentries on the walls. Then, finding the working-party before them, they had charged and galloped clear.
Roy fully expected another attack, for which he was now well prepared, the workers having seized their weapons; but all was still, and he was arguing with himself as to whether it would not be as well to work on till daybreak, when a voice from out of the darkness said, faintly—
“Will some ’un come and lend me a hand?”
“Sam Donny!” cried Roy, and, in company with Ben, he ran forward for quite forty yards before they came upon the man lying prone upon the earth.
“Why, Sam!” cried Roy; “are you hurt?”
“Well, it’s only a scratch, sir; but it do hurt, and it’s a-bleeding like hooroar. One on ’em chopped at me with his sword. I’d only got a pick, you see; but I hit at him with that, and somehow it got stuck, and I was dragged ever so far before I had to let go. He’s got the pick in his big saddle, I think. But I’ll pay for it, sir, or get you a new one.”
“Never mind the pick, Sam. Where are you hurt?”
“Oh, down here, on my right leg, sir. He made a big cut at me; but I’ll know my gen’leman again. I’ll have a sword next time and pay him back; and so I tell him.” Ben was down upon his knees, busy with a scarf, binding the wound firmly, a faint suggestion of the coming day making his task easier; and, summoning help, a rough litter was formed of a plank, and the wounded man rapidly carried in over the bridge.
That brought the defensive operations to an end, for Roy withdrew his men into the castle, and the daylight showed their rough work, which pretty well secured the gate-way; but it also displayed the work of the enemy, who had constructed a well-shaped earthwork, out of whose embrasures peered a couple of big guns.