Garrett Enderby made no reply, but turned and walked into the library, his father’s and sister’s eyes following him in doubt and dismay, for the chance was his at that moment to prove himself.
A moment afterwards Lord Rippingdale was placing his men to attack the house, disposing of some to secure a timber to batter in the door, and of some to make assaults upon the rear of the building. Enderby had placed his men advantageously to resist attack, giving the defence of the rear of the house to his son. Mistress Felicity he had sent to an upper room in the care of her aunt.
Presently the King’s men began the action, firing wherever a figure showed itself, and carrying a log to batter in the entrance door. Enderby’s men did good work, bringing down four of the besiegers at the first volley.
Those who carried the log hesitated for a moment, and Enderby called encouragingly to his men.
At this exciting moment, while calling to his men, he saw what struck him dumb—his son hurrying forward with a flag of truce to Lord Rippingdale! Instantly my lord commanded his men to retire.
“Great God!” said Sir John, with a groan, “my son—my only son—a traitor!” Turning to his men he bade them cease firing.
Throwing open the entrance doors, he stood upon the steps and waited for Lord Rippingdale.
“You see, Sir John Enderby, your son—” began my lord.
“It was to maintain my rights, and for my son’s sake and my daughter’s, that I resisted the command of the King,” interrupted the distressed and dishonoured gentleman, “but now—”
“But now you yield?”