With his blood seeming to effervesce in his veins from the excitement he felt, Roy placed the writing-materials in front of his mother and then hurried out, crossed the drawbridge, and made for the little gate tower, where, upon hearing steps, the old retainer came out, bent of head and stooping, with one ear raised.
“Master Roy’s step,” he said; and as the boy came closer: “Yes, it’s you, sir; just like your father’s step, sir, only younger. What’s the news, Master Roy?”
“Bad, Jenk,—civil war has broken out. Father is well and with his regiment, but there is great trouble in the land. I’m going to put the castle in a state of defence. Shut the gate again and keep it close. No one is to come in or out without an order from my mother or from me.”
“That’s right, Master Roy, sir; that’s right,” piped the retainer. “I’ll just buckle on my sword at once. She’s as sharp and bright as ever she was. Nobody shall go by. So there’s to be a bit of a war, is there?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so, Jenk.”
“Don’t say afraid so, Master Roy; sounds as if you would be skeart, and your father’s son couldn’t be that. But nobody goes by here without your orders, sir, or my lady’s, and so I tell ’em. I’m getting on a bit in years, and I can’t see quite as well as I should do, not like I used; but it’s the sperrit as does it, Master Roy.”
“So it is, Jenk; and you’ve got plenty in you, haven’t you?”
“Ay, ay, ay, Master Roy,” quavered the old man, “plenty. Up at the house there they get talking about me as if I was so very old; but I’ll let some of ’em see. Why, I want five year o’ being a hundred yet, and look at what they used to be in the Scripter. I’ll keep the gate fast, sir—I did this morning, didn’t I, when they three dragoons come up?”
“Yes, capitally, Jenk—but I must go. I’m busy.”
“That’s right, sir—you go. Don’t you be uneasy about the gate, sir. I’ll see to that.”