CHAPTER V

GILES MAKES A SORTIE

"Giles," said Dick in the evening, as they stood on the leads by the flagstaff; "Giles, they haven't taken the Puritan's body away," and he pointed to the man where he lay by the moat.

"No," answered Giles. "I fancy, my Captain, that his people will leave him alone."

"Do you think--" Dick said, staring at the Puritan's body, "are you sure he is dead, Giles?"

"That I am quite sure he is not, Dick," said Giles.

Dick nodded.

"I thought I saw him stir."

"He may be dying, and he may be suffering acutely, and he may, peradventure, need a drink," Giles remarked.

Dick regarded the figure of the soldier a while longer thoughtfully.

"He's an enemy, Giles."

"He was, Dick, so long as he had the will and the strength. For myself, I feel no particular anger against yon helpless man now. But it may be a lure."

"A lure?" Dick questioned.

"Ay. They may leave him there to lure us out. For you must know, Dick, and they will know, Dick, of what value that man is to us."

"How?"

"He will, maybe, tell us the news. And news to a besieged castle is worth risking a life for. But, you see, in this castle--to our future glory and present inconvenience--there are so very few lives to be risked."

"I'll go," said Dick, drawing himself up.

"My child, could you carry him in?"

Dick's face fell.

"I'd drag him hither by the heels."

"I think, were I wounded, I should scarcely like that kind of carriage," said Giles with a grimace.

"You go, then," said Dick.

Giles saluted.

"At your honour's orders," said he. "And if you'll do as I tell you," he added, when Dick expostulated with him for addressing him so, "I'll let down the bridge and go out, Dick, and you must stand by to work it up again at need."

He looked down at Dick very earnestly.

"What you have to do, Dick, is the simplest thing in the world. If you see me fall, if you see the enemy close with me--more than, say, three at a time.--up with the bridge!"

"And leave you!" Dick gasped.

"Of course. It isn't me you're responsible for; it's Dent Castle. If I go out to bring in my man, there must be no danger to Dent. Understood, Dick?"

"Yes."

"And you'll do it?"

"Yes."

They shook hands, and going down to the court Giles lifted the portcullis, and stood in the arch, looking out. There was nothing to be seen but the body of the Puritan by the low wall, and nothing at all to be heard. Giles shaded his eyes with his hand, and searched the first meadow. Not a soul. Then he examined the camp in the meadow beyond.

"I can get to my man and back before anyone there could get hither," he said.

What he could not see was the little wood in the rear of the castle, and four troopers and an officer lurking in the orchard. He let down the bridge.

"Now, Dick, stand here. And remember, if I fall, or am attacked, up with it!"

Dick went and laid his small hand on the crank. Giles walked over the bridge, along the side of the moat to the wall of the orchard. He knelt down by the man's side, and felt for the heart, found it beat still, though feebly, and rose to his feet. As he did so he was almost blinded by the flash of a musket, and the ball carried away his old battered hat. Dick, at his post, turned very white, and knew suddenly, as he saw him face to face with death, how much he had come to love ragged Giles.

The trooper who had fired dropped his musket, drew his sword, came running through the orchard shouting, caught his foot in the twisted root of a plum-tree, and fell sprawling; and his sword, flying up out of his hand, whizzed almost to Giles's feet. He picked it up, put it between his teeth, picked up his man, flung him on his back, and set off at a run for the bridge. Two bullets flew past him, and one lodged in his burden, as he knew by the sound and a sudden twist of the hands he held in his own. Three men appeared by the wall. Two fired again, and the third, sword in hand, leapt the low wall after Giles. Dick, watching, saw Giles start forward and stumble.

"He's hit!" Dick thought, and his hands, clinging to the cranks of the drawbridge, trembled, and his legs shook under him.

And now he saw a party of horsemen separate from the camp below, and come galloping over the fields. But Giles was still running forward. Oh, how short a way it had seemed to the orchard-wall a moment ago, and what miles and miles it now seemed to come back!

"He's not down! They've not closed with him!" Dick told himself. "I needn't draw it up yet."

Giles's feet were on the bridge-end as the line of horsemen came into range, drew up, and fired Dick saw the flash, then the blue line of smoke. He heard the report echo and re-echo, and the bullets come hopping on to the bridge, into the water, and one or two whistled softly past him and dropped ping-ping on the stones of the court. Dick shut his eyes.

"Up with it!" a voice shouted in his ear, and something shot past him and fell at his side.

Flinging all the strength of his little body into the effort, Dick felt the cranks yield. Up went the bridge, and the foremost Puritan, springing and missing his foothold, went down into the water with a curse and a crash. A horseman, whipping and spurring for the bridge, but failing to wrench his charger's head round, followed him with a splash that sent the moat-water as high as the roof of the gate-house, and a noise that deafened Dick as he stood tugging at the portcullis pulleys for dear life. Giles limped to his aid, and whilst bullets rained past them, and muskets cracked, and soldiers shouted, and officers yelled orders, the great iron grating came down with a clash, and the two besieged comrades lifted a cheer.

"God save the King!" Giles shouted in mocking triumph, and then Dick leapt into his arms.

"Giles, Giles, I love you! But oh, Giles, I'm very sick!"

And the two heroes retired to the hall with their Puritan, to ransack their wounds, as Giles said, and to drink the King's health and the Captain of Dent's.