Part 27 (2/2)

He kept the boat's head straight for the sh.o.r.e, as if he had been going to beach her, till she was within a dozen yards; then with a quick stroke of his steering oar he turned her right for the willow copses which fringed the island on the eastern side. The water had risen, so that these were sunk to half their height in the quick-running flood, and their leaves sucked under with the force of the current. But behind there was a quiet backwater into which Hugh John ran his vessel head on till she slanted with a gentle heave up on the green turf.

”Overboard every man!” he cried, and showed the example himself by das.h.i.+ng into the water up to the knees, carrying the blue ensign of his cause. The enemy had not expected this rapid flank movement, and waited only till the invaders had formed in battle array to retreat upon the castle, fearful perhaps of being cut off from their stronghold.

General-Field-Marshal Smith addressed his army.

”Soldiers,” he said, ”we've got to fight, and it's dead earnest this time, mind you. We're going to lick the Smoutchies, so that they will stay licked a long time. Now, come on!”

This brief address was considered on all hands to be a model effort, and worthy of the imitation of all generals in the face of the enemy.

The most vulnerable part of the castle from the landward side was undoubtedly the great doorway--an open arch of some six feet wide, which, however, had to be approached under a galling cross fire from the ports at either side and from the lintel above.

”It's no use wasting time,” cried the General; ”follow me to the door.”

And with his sword in his hand he darted valiantly up the steep incline which led to the castle. Cissy Carter charged at his left shoulder also sword in hand, while Mike and Peter, with Gregory's Mixture and the Craw Bogle, were scarcely a step behind.

Stones and mortar hailed down upon the devoted band; sticks and clods of turf struck them on their shoulders and arms. But with their teeth clenched and their heads bent low, the storming party rushed undauntedly upon their foes.

The Smoutchies had built a breast-work of driftwood in front of the great entrance, but it was so flimsy that Mike and his companions kicked it away in a moment--yet not before General Smith, light as a young goat, had overleaped it and launched himself solitary on the foe. Then, with the way clear, it was cut and thrust from start to finish.

First among the a.s.sailants General Smith crossed swords with the great Nipper Donnan himself. But his reserves had not yet come up, and so he was beaten down by three cracks on the head received from different quarters at the same time. But like Witherington in the ballad, he still fought upon his knees; and while Prince Michael and Gregory's Mixture held the enemy at bay with their stout sticks, the stricken Hugh John kept well down among their legs, and used his sword from underneath with damaging effect.

”Give them the point--cold steel!” he cried.

”Cowld steel it is!” shouted Prince Michael, as he brought down his blackthorn upon the right ear of Nipper Donnan.

”Cauld steel--tak' you that!” cried Peter Greg the Scot as he let out with his left, and knocked Nosey Cuthbert over backwarks into the hall of the castle.

Thus raged in front the heady fight; and thus with their faces to the foe and their weapons in their hands, we leave the vanguard of the army of Windy Standard, in order that for a little we may follow the fortunes of the other divisions.

Yes, divisions is the word, that is to say Billy Blythe's gipsy division and--Sir Toady Lion.

For once more Toady Lion was playing a lone hand.

So soon as Prissy and he had been left behind, we regret to be obliged to report that the behaviour of the distinguished knight left much to be desired.

”Don't be bad, Toady Lion,” said his sister, gently taking him by the hand; ”come and look at nice picture-books.”

”Will be bad,” growled Toady Lion, stamping his little foot in impotent wrath; ”doan want t' look at pitchur-books--want to go and fight! And I will go too, so there!”

And in his fiery indignation he even kicked at his sister Prissy, and threw stones after the boat in which the expedition had sailed. The gipsy division, which was to wait till they heard the noise of battle roll up from the castle island before cutting loose, took pity on Sir Toady Lion, and but for the special nature of the service required of them, they would, I think, have taken him with them.

”That's a rare well-plucked little 'un!” cried Joe Baillie. ”See how he shuts his fists, and cuts up rough!”

”A little man!” said the leader encouragingly; ”walks into his sister's s.h.i.+ns, don't he, the little codger!”

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