“Oh, nobody, sir, nobody,” said the man, scouring away at the rusted steel.
“And besides, times are altered. When this castle was built, gentlemen used to have to protect themselves, and kept their retainers to fight for them. Now there’s a regular army, and the king does all that.”
That patch of rust must have been a little lighter on, for the man uttered a low grunt of satisfaction.
“It would be absurd to make the towers just as they used to be, and shut out the light and cover the narrow slits with iron bars.”
“Maybe, Master Roy; but Sir Granby might have the moat cleared of mud, and kept quite full.”
“What! I just hope it won’t be touched. Why, that would mean draining it, and then what would become of my carp and tench?”
“Ketch ’em and put ’em in tubs, sir, and put some little uns back.”
“Yes, and then it would take years for them to grow, and all the beautiful white and yellow water-lilies would be destroyed.”
“Yes; but see what a lot of fine, fat eels we should get, sir. There’s some thumpers there. I caught a four-pounder on a night-line last week.”
“Ah, you did, did you?” cried the lad; “then don’t you do it again without asking for leave.”