“My duty, Roy,” she said. “The one I was proud to perform for your father. Ah, my boy, if he were only here that I might assist him now! But no news, Roy; no news. It is cruel work.”
“No news is good news, mother,” cried Roy, cheerily. “Come and feed me, for I’m terribly hungry again.”
An attractive meal was waiting; and to have seen mother and son soon after at the table, no one would have imagined that they were in a beleaguered castle with a strong body of the enemy close at hand.
Roy sat till the clock struck nine, and then rose.
“Then you will get no proper sleep to-night, my boy?” said Lady Royland, as she helped her son to resume his arms.
“Oh, yes; I shall lie down as I am, and jump up at twelve to take the round. I shall be back in my room in a quarter of an hour if the enemy is quiet, and sleep again till four, when I go my round again. I say, isn’t it wonderful how one wakes at the right time when one has had a little practice.”
“Roy, my boy, it is wearing you out. Let me go and see if the men are doing their duty to-night.”
“What nonsense, mother!” cried the lad, merrily. “Just as if this was going to wear me out. To-morrow night old Ben will make the round, and I shall be snoring in my bed. There, good-night.”
“Good-night, my darling,” cried Lady Royland, pressing him to her breast.
“I say, what a hard-hearted creature I must feel with this on,” said Roy, laughing merrily.