The Young Castellan Part 9

CHAPTER FIVE.

ROY TAKES HIS NEXT LESSON.

The clock in the little turret which stood out over the gate-way facing Lady Royland's garden had not done striking six when Roy entered the armoury next morning, to find Ben hard at work fitting the interior of a light helmet with a small leather cap which was apparently well stuffed with wool.

"Morning, Ben," said the boy. "What's that for?"

"You, sir."

"To wear?"

"Of course. Just as well to take care of your face and head when you're handling swords. You can use it with the visor up or down, 'cording to what we're doing. You see, I want to learn you how to use a sword like a soldier, and not like a gentleman who never expects to see trouble."

"Ready?"

"Yes, sir, quite; and first thing 's morning we'll begin where we left off, and you shall try to learn that you don't know how to thrust.

Nothing like finding out how bad you are. Then you can begin to see better what you have to learn."

"Very well," said Roy, eagerly. "You'll have to look out now then, Ben, for I mean to learn, and pretty quickly."

"Oh, yes; you'll learn quickly enough," said Ben, placing the helmet upon the table and taking the pair of sticks up from where he had placed them. "But say, Master Roy, I have been working here. Don't you think the place looks better?"

"I think my father would be proud of the armoury if he could see the weapons," said Roy, as he looked round. "Everything is splendid."

The old soldier smiled as he walked from suit to suit of armour, some of which were obsolete, and could only be looked upon as curiosities of the day; but, in addition, there were modern pieces of defensive armour, beautifully made, with carefully cleaned and inlaid headpieces of the newest kind, and of those the old soldier seemed to be especially proud.

Then he led the way on to the stands of offensive weapons, which numbered quaint, ma.s.sive swords of great age, battle-axes, and maces, and so on to modern weapons of the finest steel, with, guns, petronels, and horse-pistols of clumsy construction, but considered perfect then.

"Yes, sir, I'm proud of our weepuns," said Ben; "but I aren't a bit proud of the old castle, which seems to be going right away to ruin."

"That it isn't," cried Roy, indignantly. "It has been repaired and repaired, whenever it wanted doing up, again and again."

"Ah! you're thinking about roofs and tiles and plaster, my lad. I was thinking about the defences. Such a place as this used to be. Look at the gun-carriages,--haven't been painted for years, nor the guns cleaned."

"Well, mix up some paint and brush it on," said Roy, "and clean up the guns. They can't be rusty, because they're bra.s.s."

"Well, not bra.s.s exactly, sir," said the man, thoughtfully. "It's more of a mixtur' like; but to a man like me, sir, it's heart-breaking."

"What! to see them turn green and like bronze?"

"Oh, I don't mind that so much, sir; it's seeing of 'em come down so much, like. Why, there's them there big guns as stands in the court-yard behind the breastwork."

"Garden, Ben."

"Well, garden, sir. Why, there's actooally ivy and other 'nockshus weeds growing all over 'em."

"Well, it looks peaceful and nice."

"Bah! A gun can't look peaceful and nice. But that aren't the worst of it, sir. I was along by 'em a bit ago, and, if you'll believe me, when I put my hand in one, if there warn't a sharp, hissing noise!"

"A snake? Got in there?"

"Snake, sir? No! I wouldn't ha' minded a snake; but there's no snakes here."

"There was one, Ben, for I brought it up out of the woods, and kept it in a box for months, till it got away. Then that's where it is."

"Nay. It were no snake, sir. It were one of them little blue and yaller tomt.i.t chaps as lays such lots o' eggs. I fetches a stick, and I was going to shove it in and twist it in the hay and stuff o' the nest and draw it out."

"But you didn't?"

"No, sir, I didn't; for I says to myself, if Sir Granby and her ladys.h.i.+p like the place to go to ruin, they may let it; and if the two little birds--there was a c.o.c.k and hen--didn't bring up twelve of the rummiest little, tiny young uns I ever did see. There they was, all a-sitting in a row along the gun, and it seemed to me so comic for 'em to be there that I bust out a-laughing quite loud."

"And they all flew away?"

"Nay, sir, they didn't; they stopped there a-twittering. But if that gun had been loaded, and I'd touched it off with a fire-stick, it would have warmed their toes, eh? But would you clean up the old guns?"

"I don't see why you shouldn't, Ben. They're valuable."

"Vallerble? I should think they are, sir. And, do you know, I will; for who knows what might happen? They tell me down in the village that there's trouble uppards, and people gets talking agen the king. Ah!

I'd talk 'em if I had my way, and make some of 'em squirm.--Yes, I will tidy things up a bit. Startle some on 'em if we was to fire off a gun or two over the village."

"They'd burst, Ben. Haven't been fired for a hundred years, I should say. Those bra.s.s guns were made in Queen Elizabeth's time."

"Oh, they wouldn't burst, sir; I shouldn't be afraid of that.--But this is not learning to thrust, is it?"

"No. Come on," cried Roy, and he took one of the stout ash rods.

"Here, hadn't I better put on this helmet?"

"Not yet, sir. You can practise thrusting without that. Now then, here I am, sir. All ready for you on my guard. Now, thrust."

Ben dropped into an easy position, with his legs a little bent, one foot advanced, his left hand behind him, and his stick held diagonally across his breast.

Roy imitated him, dropping into the same position.

"Where shall I stab you?" he cried.

"Just wherever you like, sir,--if you can."

The boy made a quick dart forward with his stick, and it pa.s.sed by his teacher, who parried with the slightest movement of his wrist.

"I said thrust, sir."

"Well, I did thrust."

"That wasn't a thrust, sir; that was only a poke. It wouldn't have gone through a man's coat, let alone his skin. Now, again!"

The boy made another push forward with his stick, which was also parried.

"Nay, that won't do, my lad; so let's get to something better. Now, I'm going to thrust at you right in the chest. Enemies don't tell you where they're going to hit you, but I'm going to tell you. Now, look out!"