Part 50 (1/2)

A busy day followed, with the men collected in a state of the wildest excitement, those who had been wounded in the attack upon the cavern and the bitter encounter between the allies for the most part declaring their readiness to bear arms again.

”But you're not fit, Dan,” said Mark, as he stood talking to the head miner.

”Not fit, Master Mark?” cried the st.u.r.dy old fellow, showing his teeth; ”I'm going to show that gang of murderous wolves that I am very fit indeed. My arm won't go very well, and I turn a bit sick and swimming whenever I turn my head.”

”Then you mustn't go,” cried Mark.

”Mustn't, Master Mark,” said the man grimly, ”but I must. The lads'll fight as well again with me there. And look here: I won't use my right hand, and I won't turn my head; so I shall be all right, and I'm not going to fight.”

”Then what is the use of your coming?”

The man half shut one eye.

”Powder!” he whispered--”powder. You know what that will do, eh?”

”Yes, you can manage that, Dan,” said Mark thoughtfully.

”Better than any one else, my lad, and that aren't boasting. Look here, Master Mark; I've been having it over with the lads, and we all think the same. The Darleys are about as bad a lot as ever stepped, and they've done us a lot o' wrong, and deserved all we could give 'em, but they aren't deserved this, and we are going to forgive 'em a bit. Who's going to stand still and see a lot o' ragged rapscallions come and attack our enemies, and try to take that castle? It aren't to be borne, Master Mark; now is it?”

”No, Dan, it is not to be borne.”

”Right, sir. I've heered everything now: how they'd took the castle, and was wineing and beering theirselves, and going to stop there, when Nick Garth--ah! I do mort'ly hate that fellow--sets fire to the place, and burns 'em out. Makes me feel as if I could half forgive him all old scores. My pick! It was a fine idea.”

”A grand idea, Dan.”

”And don't you see, Master Mark, as they missed getting Cliff Castle, they'll just wait their time, and catch us napping, and get this place.”

”Never,” cried Mark hotly.

”Never, it is, Master Mark. Me and the lads'll blow the old place up first.”

”Mark, my boy,” cried Sir Edward just then; ”here, I want you.”

The lad hurried to his father's side, and a strong hand was clapped upon his shoulder, Sir Edward looking him full in the face, but with his eyes thoughtful and fixed.

”No,” he said suddenly, ”they could not think that if you go alone.”

”Who, father? Where?” said Mark, staring.

”I've been thinking, boy,” said Sir Edward. ”We can make up a good muster, but we ought to be as strong as we can, and it is only right to give Sir Morton's poor fellows who are left a chance of striking a blow for their master and young mistress. Would you mind riding over to the enemy's camp, and asking all who can to come and join us in our expedition this evening?”

”Mind? No, father: I should like to.”

”Then go at once.”

”Yes, father.”

”And bring back with you all you can. If it's only four or five st.u.r.dy fellows, it is worth while; and I hope they will be willing to come under my command--no, this will be better: ask them if they will follow you.”

”I think I can bring them,” cried Mark, flus.h.i.+ng.