“Another gun from the enemy, and we’re doing nothing,” said Roy, impatiently. “Mother, don’t stop me; they will think I’m afraid. I must be with the men.”
Lady Royland drew a deep breath, and her face became fixed and firm once more, though the pallor seemed intensified.
“Yes,” she said, quickly, as she threw her arms about her son for a brief embrace; “you must be with your men, Roy. Go, and remember my prayers are with you always. Good-bye!”
“Just for a while,” he cried. “You shall soon have news of how we are going on.”
Chapter Twenty Six.
Going under Fire.
Roy ran out of the room, leaving the old housekeeper, who was waiting outside, to close the door, and dashed down the few stairs and out into the court-yard, where the greater part of their little force was drawn up on either side of the gate-way, looking very serious and troubled; but as soon as he appeared they burst into a cheer, to which Roy answered by waving his hand.
“The game has begun,” he cried.