When all this was done and the enemy held in check all along the line, Captain Walker and a small body of men, amongst whom were Ben Tuckett and myself, went out through the closes beyond the church, and met the cattle, which were on the top of Baghill, guarded by Captain Wheatley and the fifty horsemen who had come with him from Sandal Castle. It was a dark night, and we could barely make out the presence of these unknown friends, but we had scarcely advanced close to them when I heard a voice which made the blood leap in my veins.
“I and my companion, master sergeant, are going forward with these beasts here, for we have letters for Colonel Lowther, and shall maybe stay with him when they are delivered. So back to Sandal with you we shall not.”
“Jack! Jack!” I cried, for I knew his voice without doubt, “I am here, Jack, and so is Ben. What brings you here, and where is Philip Lisle?”
“Here, lad,” answered Philip; and in another instant Ben and I were shaking hands with both of them, right glad to meet them again, though we could not see their faces in the darkness.
“We have ridden across country from Lancashire,” said Philip, “with letters for Colonel Lowther, and fell in with this party from Sandal yesterday evening. But we will tell you more, lads, when we have helped you in with these cattle.”
“Yea,” said Ben, “let us get the cattle in first of all. I am glad indeed to see you, gentlemen, or to know you are there, for I cannot see you at all-but the prospect of roast meat! Alas! what shall we do if these cattle escape us?”
But the cattle did not escape us, for we presently drove them down the hill towards the Castle gates, guiding them between the lines formed by our men, who were now keeping the enemy back by means of a smart fusillade. And though by overhastiness we lost some thirty of them, which broke through and fell into the hands of the Roundheads, we succeeded in driving about a hundred into the Castle, whereupon our drums beat a retreat, and our men came in without having suffered any loss. Then indeed our spirits were raised to a high pitch, for we had now enough provision to last us a good while longer. Certain of our men, in order to testify to the general joy of the garrison, lighted bonfires on the towers, which made a brave show, while the gunners opened a brisk fire on the enemy, and kept it up for some considerable time.
During the following day Ben and I had many things to talk over with Philip Lisle and Jack Drumbleforth, and spent as much time with them as we could spare from our duties. Both were much diverted at the thought of Ben turning soldier, and Jack rallied him no little on his martial air and gallant deeds.
“Why,” said Ben, “indeed I see not why I should not be as great a warrior as any amongst you. ’Tis said that hunger will make a man do aught, and if that be true, I have reason enough to commit heroic acts. Alas! do you know, Master Lisle, I have lost nigh upon a stone of my weight since I came into this Castle! Yea, and can take my belt up three holes, which shows that I am naught like so bulky as I was.”
“That is all the better for thee,” said Jack.
“I am not so sure about it,” said Ben. “A fat man is always comfortable, save in summer, and then ’tis his own fault if he is not, for there is a cool corner in every alehouse, and a shady side in every street. Indeed, I cannot think of aught more delightful than being a well-fed, plump sort of man, with no care and a good appetite.”
“Talking of appetites, Ben,” said I, “the butcher hath killed some of the oxen this morning, and I dare say you will get a ration of beef ere the day is out.”
“And well it will agree with me,” he answered. “But now, lads, let me tell you something. ’Tis my birthday today, and I am minded to entertain ye all. What say you if we put our rations together and have a decent roast? The butcher, I dare say, would cut it for us all in one piece. And hark ye, gentlemen, I have a small cask of burgundy hidden away close by, so that you can wash your meat down with something better than small ale.”
“Agreed, Ben!” we all cried, and wished him long life and happiness, so that he went away mighty pleased, to make arrangements for his little feast and persuade the butcher to cut him a piece out of the sirloin. He was very busy all that day until suppertime, when he fetched us into a little apartment in one of the towers, where he had set out the birthday feast for our entertainment.
“ ’Tis not a very fine banquet, gentlemen,” said honest Ben, “for, as you see, there is naught but the beef and this loaf of wheaten bread and yonder bit of cheese, which came from my own shop when we fled to the Castle. However, here is the little cask of wine, which hath been hidden in a nice cool place, I assure you. So now, lads, sit down and fall to.”
This we did with a right good will, for food was not over-plentiful with us in the Castle at that time, and much eating of salt meats had whetted our appetites for something newly killed. As for Philip and Jack, they had not experienced over-good times during their recent adventures, and were hardly behind us in prowess with knife and fork. Wherefore in
