“Yes,” said Roy to himself, “it is the spirit that does it. Now I wonder whether I’ve got spirit enough to do all the work before me!”
He hurried back over the drawbridge, and glanced down into the clear moat where he could see the great pike lying, but he did not stop to think about catching it, for he hurried on to the servants’ hall, drawing himself up as he felt the importance of his position, and upon entering, the three troopers, who were seated at a good substantial meal, all rose and saluted their colonel’s son.
“Got all you want, men?” said Roy, startling himself by his decisive way of speaking.
“Yes, sir; plenty, sir,” said the man who bore the despatch. “Master Martlet saw to that.”
“That’s right. Now, look here, of course we want you and your horses to have a good rest, but when do you think you’ll be ready to take a despatch back?”
“Take a despatch back, sir?” said the man, staring. “We’re not to take anything back.”
“Yes; a letter to my father.”
“No, sir. Colonel Sir Granby Royland’s, orders were that we were to stop here and to help take care of the castle.”
“Were those my father’s commands?” cried Roy, eagerly.
“Yes, sir, to all three of us—all five of us, it were, and I’m sorry I couldn’t bring the other two with me; but I did my best, didn’t I, lads?”