“Now, captain,” he said, and there was a touch of sarcasm in his voice, “you don’t want those stout fellows shot down, or smothered like rats in their holes. Tell them to give up their arms and come out.”
“To a set of cowards who attacked us as you did with the help of that treacherous dog!” cried Roy, passionately. “No!”
“Hurrah!” was shouted from the guard-room door and Farmer Raynes roared out:
“Well said, Master Roy; we’ll beat ’em yet.”
“Take that boy away,” cried the officer; and Roy was dragged to one side, where he heard the speaker again bid the party surrender; but only received a shout of defiance in reply.
A few short, sharp orders followed; and Roy quivered with passion as he saw from the brightening sparks that a party of men who tramped forward were blowing the matches of their firelocks.
An order followed, and a ragged volley was fired in at the door, which was answered by a cheer, and directly after by half-a-dozen shots and some confusion among the attacking party, for two men staggered back and fell groaning upon the stones.
The officer stamped his foot.
“Pikes and swords,” he cried; and in obedience to his orders a little column of a score of men dashed forward and tried to enter, thrusting in their pikes; and as many as could get to the door striving desperately, but only to be beaten back, and their discomfiture increased by a few more shots.
The attack was resumed with fresh men again and again, but the defenders fought desperately, and in every case the attacking party were driven back with several men badly wounded.