"If he were hurt," said the blacksmith, " the Colonel would never forgive me.""He's climbed that too often for danger of accidents," said Philip.
Jack was now crawling along a coping just over the farther sentry, and they watched him picking out the mortar from between two big stones with his knife.In five minutes he had it loose, and, grasping it with both hands, he pushed it close to the edge, and then peeped over.The soldier was some yards from the plumb.Jack looked down at the shrubbery for guidance.The smith raised his hand to signify patience.Jack waited.Breathlessly the ambushed party watched the two soldiers, who were now talking together.
Would they never return to their doors? Five anxious minutes passed, and then, with a look round, Jack's man began to move nearer his position under the coping.Once he stopped, and, retracing half a step, called out a facetious after-thought.The boys grunted impatiently, and the blacksmith swore in his beard.Then the soldier took another step back, laughing at his wit, yet moving irresolutely, as though he had another word or two to add to the joke.After this his progress backwards was steady.
At last, when he was within a yard of the precise spot, and not one of the attacking party had a grain of patience left, the smith dropped his hand, and Jack toppled the stone over the edge.It fell with a terrible swiftness; the soldier completed his yard of step, and the block took him, not on the crown, but on the right shoulder.It was, however, enough.Down he fell without a sound.
His companion, glancing up at the instant, saw him fall, and, leaving his matchlock, ran to his assistance.At the same moment the smith and the boys rushed from the shrubbery.The soldier, running towards his friend, observed them approaching, checked himself in bewilderment, and then swung round on his heel and made for his weapon.But Matthew was too quick for him.The smith was quite twenty yards distant, but, gathering himself together, he flung out his arm, and with all his might threw the iron bar at the retreating sentry.The missile sped true; over and over it twisted in the air, and, catching the soldier with a horrid thud in the back, laid him low.
"Hurrah!" cried Philip.
"Hurrah!" cried Jack, peering down from the roof as the others bound the two wounded men with ropes.It was quickly done, and they were hauled into the stable and secured safely therein, and old Digger told off to watch them and mind them as well as he might.
"Now we can go ahead," was Matthew's comment, grimly uttered, as he opened the door.Philip was for accompanying him, but Matthew said no."In a minute or two I will be back with your sister," he added."I want to settle the other man alone.I have a few scores to pay off."He sprang up the stairs three at a bound, grasping his iron bar firmly, and at last came to Barbara's landing.There before the door stood the Roundhead, who evidently had heard nothing of the disturbance below.
"Ha, smith," he cried, on spying Matthew, "what are you looking for?""I came to have a little talk," said Matthew easily, taking in his man with a quick glance.
"Well, then, you had best descend those stairs again," replied the soldier;"I'm in no mood for talking."
"Now, that's curious," said Matthew genially, leaning against the wall, "because I am.I never felt more disposed to conversation in my life."The soldier scowled and fingered his matchlock.
"But perhaps," Matthew continued, darting forward suddenly, and with a blow of the iron bar knocking the gun from the man's hand--"perhaps a little tussle would be more to your liking.I have a mind to smash your face.What do you say?"The soldier drew his sword.
"No," said Matthew, striking it down with the bar; "I don't want iron.It's so noisy.I have the sound of iron all day in my smithy.Give me a little change." He kicked the sword along the passage, and threw his bar after it.
"Now," said he, "we are equal.Come!"
So saying, the blacksmith tapped the Roundhead on the chin.The soldier made an attempt to defend himself, but fisticuffs were out of his line, and Matthew had a series of easy openings.The smith punished him badly for a while, and then, remarking that he had set his heart on spoiling one or two more Roundheads before he died, followed the words with a blow on the soldier's nose that laid him low.
The blacksmith pulled himself together, and then, opening a cupboard door near by, pushed the sentry into it and turned the key.
The next thing was to liberate Barbara, who, when she heard what had happened, asked with nice tact if Matthew did not think that they could talk more comfortably in the kitchen, and Matthew replied that his brain was always more fertile in the presence of cold pasty and ale than at any other time.
"WAS THAT ALL RIGHT?" GODFREY FAIRFAX ASKED GREGORY.
"FIRST-RATE," HE SAID."I CAN'T THINK WHY YOUR BOOKS DON'T SUCCEED.""PERHAPS THIS IS THE BEST OF THEM," ROBERT SUGGESTED.
"BARBARA IS VERY BRAVE," SAID JANET."I ADMIRE HER TREMENDOUSLY.""AND PHILIP, TOO," SAID HESTER.
"0H, BUT JACK AND THE STONE IS BEST," SAID GREGORY."I COULD HAVE DONE THAT.""SO COULD I," SAID HORACE CAMPBELL; "IT'S JUST WHAT I WANT TO DO--THINGSLIKE THAT."
"YOU'RE RATHER BLOOD-THIRSTY LITTLE BOYS," SAID GODFREY FAIRFAX."PERHAPSI HAD BETTER BEGIN AGAIN.IT IS GOING TO BE QUIETER NOW."Once in the kitchen, Barbara and Philip and the blacksmith took rapid counsel together as to the best course of action.It was now late in the afternoon; the Captain might be back with another bodyguard at any time, and, once he returned, there would be no chance of getting the stranger away.It was therefore important to furnish him with the disguise--Rupert's clothes--and spirit him out of the house at once.On the other hand, as he did not count upon being at sea till midnight, this would simply mean exchanging one hiding-place for another; but, all things considered, it was imperative that he should stay no longer at the Hall.
