A shout of derisive laughter from the rebels greeted this speech of the tipsy Chaloner. By the light of a port fire I could see our leader biting his lip to conceal his anger.
"Your reply?" demanded the rebel officer.
"This!" shouted Firestone, and, seizing a match, he applied it to the nearest cannon.
A blinding flash and a deafening roar was succeeded by a hundred spurts of flame from the darkness beneath us, and the next moment we could hear the hurried tramp and the hoarse cries and shouts of the assailants as they rushed forward to the attack.
Hardly had the first scaling ladder been placed against the wall, when our rascally garrison threw down their arms and bolted from the platforms.
In vain Firestone cut two down; panic had done its work, and, as the heads of the first of the stormers appeared over the parapet, only the colonel, Granville, Sergeant Lawson, and I remained.
Seeing that resistance was useless, Firestone called on us to follow, and, descending to the courtyard, we reached the tethered horses just as the rebels, with shouts of triumph, were driving the panic-stricken garrison into the keep.
Cutting loose our steeds, we mounted, and, with sword and pistol, rode slowly towards the gateway. Here the sergeant unbarred the door and threw it suddenly open, and before the rebels, who were making for the gateway, were aware of our intention, the drawbridge had fallen with a run, and the four riders were urging their horses through the dense mass of men.
Taken by surprise, the musketeers, their pieces discharged and unloaded, gave way right and left, and, although a few pikemen amongst them tried to bar our way, our weight was irresistible.
I have a dim recollection of shearing off the head of an opposing pike, and seeing its holder's terror-stricken eyes, as he went down beneath my horse's hoofs. There was a crackle of pistol-shots, a flashing of steel, and we were through, tearing madly across the broad expanse of common on our bid for safety!