He nodded and crossed to the door-way leading up to his room, and Roy directly after encountered old Jenk.
“Hallo! where are you going?”
“Eh, eh? Master Roy? Oh, only up on to the platform to see the firing for a bit!”
“I say, don’t you get shot.”
“Me? Me? No, sir; they won’t hit me. Look—look!” he cried, pointing upward. “Flag—ladyship’s flag! Blows out bravely. See—we’ll never surrender.”
“Yes. Never surrender, Jenk. Too good soldiers for that.”
“Ay, ay, ay!” cried the old man. “Too good soldiers for that. Brave boy! Your father’s son. But you’ll have my little gate-house built up again, Master Roy, when they’ve gone, eh? They’ve knocked it about a deal. But old soldiers don’t mind scars.”
“Oh, yes; we’ll have it put right when we’ve made the enemy run.”
“Yes, yes, make ’em run, Master Roy; and I’ll tell your father what a brave soldier Ben Martlet and I have made you.”
The old man chuckled and went in at the door-way to mount the spiral stairs, while Roy turned and looked up at the flag, well blown out by the evening breeze.