“Yes, I—I often go to bed very soon, Roy. My head seems to require a great deal of sleep. I suppose it’s from studying so much. But I’ll come and keep watch—after to-night. You will not want me to-night?”
“Why not to-night?”
“I don’t feel prepared for it. My head is bad, and I fear that I should not be of much use. To-morrow night, if you want me, I will gladly come and take any duty you wish me to perform.”
“Very well, Master Pawson,” said Roy. “To-morrow night, then. I say, though,” he added, merrily, “you had better come to the armoury with me.”
Bang—bang! in rapid succession went the guns from the battery, followed a moment or two later by the third.
“That’s right!” cried Roy. “Hammer away; only you might let us have our dinner in peace.”
“Yes,” said the secretary, with a forced laugh; “they might let her ladyship have her dinner in peace.”
“Oh, mother!” cried Roy, “don’t look so white and anxious. You ought to be used to the firing by now.”
Lady Royland gave him a wistful look, and smiled faintly.
“They are only powdering down the stone; and I daresay the king will pay for it all being done up again.”