"Where is my father?"
"With the King, but I wot not where that may be. Sir Reginald sent a letter, which arrived here yesternight, asking for the supplies to be sent to Oxford, though at the time of writing he was in camp at Shrewsbury, whither the King had journeyed from Nottingham."
"And what supplies are we sending, mother? Surely the King's army is not in such need of food that it must needs be provisioned from Ashley?"
"Nay," she replied, with a sad smile. "Royalty needs, and loyalty must. Look around the hall, Humphrey. The sideboard and yonder shelves—dost notice the difference?"
"They are bare," I exclaimed. "Where is the silver plate—the wassail bowls and our silver-gilt chargers?"
"Gone to the smelting-pot," replied my mother, in a tone of triumph mingled with regret. "Fifty stout pikemen and twenty musketeers will they provide!"
After our repast, Granville and I went to the kitchen, where, in a huge smelting-pot, the remains of our family plate were at molten heat, old Giles, the butler, having been appointed founder, a task which he performed as if brought up to it from his youth, although many were the sighs he gave as the rich vessels, over which he had spent much care, vanished into the pot.
On the flagged floor were moulds of sand and clay, into which the molten metal was ladled, for it was necessary, in view of the dangers of the road, to convey the silver in as compact a form as possible.
With the exception of Wat, the pikeman who was on guard at the drawbridge on our arrival, and a lad of about fifteen years of age, the whole of our male servants, twenty in all, remaining in the castle, were over sixty years of age, for the able-bodied men my father had taken with him. Nevertheless, such was the faithfulness and devotion of these servants that, in spite of their years, they were ready to defend the castle to the last extremity, should things come to the worst.
From the kitchen we made our way towards the tower, for Ralph had expressed a wish to be shown the whole of the castle.