by E. Nesbit
CHAPTER VII
A SIEGE AND BED
The children were sitting in the gloomy banqueting-hall, at the end ofone of the long bare wooden tables. There was now no hope. Martha hadbrought in the dinner, and the dinner was invisible, and unfeelable too;for, when they rubbed their hands along the table, they knew but toowell that for them there was nothing there _but_ table.
Suddenly Cyril felt in his pocket.
"Right, _oh_!" he cried. "Look here! Biscuits."
Somewhat broken and crumbled, certainly, but still biscuits. Three wholeones, and a generous handful of crumbs and fragments.
"I got them this morning--cook--and I'd quite forgotten," he explainedas he divided them with scrupulous fairness into four heaps.
They were eaten in a happy silence, though they had an odd taste,because they had been in Cyril's pocket all the morning with a hank oftarred twine, some green fir-cones, and a ball of cobbler's wax.
"Yes, but look here, Squirrel," said Robert; "you're so clever atexplaining about invisibleness and all that. How is it the biscuits arehere, and all the bread and meat and things have disappeared?"
"I don't know," said Cyril after a pause, "unless it's because _we_ hadthem. Nothing about _us_ has changed. Everything's in my pocket allright."
"Then if we _had_ the mutton it would be real," said Robert. "Oh, don'tI wish we could find it!"
"But we can't find it. I suppose it isn't ours till we've got it in ourmouths."
"Or in our pockets," said Jane, thinking of the biscuits.
"Who puts mutton in their pockets, goose-girl?" said Cyril. "But Iknow--at any rate, I'll try it!"
He leaned over the table with his face about an inch from it, and keptopening and shutting his mouth as if he were taking bites out of air.
"It's no good," said Robert in deep dejection. "You'll only---- Hullo!"
Cyril stood up with a grin of triumph, holding a square piece of breadin his mouth. It was quite real. Everyone saw it. It is true that,directly he bit a piece off, the rest vanished; but it was all right,because he knew he had it in his hand though he could neither see norfeel it. He took another bite from the air between his fingers, and itturned into bread as he bit. The next moment all the others werefollowing his example, and opening and shutting their mouths an inch orso from the bare-looking table. Robert captured a slice of mutton,and--but I think I will draw a veil over the rest of this painful scene.It is enough to say that they all had enough mutton, and that whenMartha came to change the plates she said she had never seen such a messin all her born days.
The pudding was, fortunately, a plain suet one, and in answer toMartha's questions the children all with one accord said that they would_not_ have molasses on it--nor jam, nor sugar--"Just plain, please,"they said. Martha said, "Well, I never--what next, I wonder!" and wentaway.
Then ensued another scene on which I will not dwell, for nobody looksnice picking up slices of suet pudding from the table in its mouth, likea dog.
The great thing, after all, was that they had had dinner; and noweveryone felt more courage to prepare for the attack that was to bedelivered before sunset. Robert, as captain, insisted on climbing to thetop of one of the towers to reconnoitre, so up they all went. And nowthey could see all round the castle, and could see, too, that beyond themoat, on every side, tents of the besieging party were pitched. Ratheruncomfortable shivers ran down the children's backs as they saw that allthe men were very busy cleaning or sharpening their arms, re-stringingtheir bows, and polishing their shields. A large party came along theroad, with horses dragging along the great trunk of a tree; and Cyrilfelt quite pale, because he knew this was for a battering-ram.
"What a good thing we've got a moat," he said; "and what a good thingthe drawbridge is up--I should never have known how to work it."
"Of course it would be up in a besieged castle."
"You'd think there ought to have been soldiers in it, wouldn't you?"said Robert.
"You see you don't know how long it's been besieged," said Cyril darkly;"perhaps most of the brave defenders were killed early in the siege andall the provisions eaten, and now there are only a few intrepidsurvivors,--that's us, and we are going to defend it to the death."
"How do you begin--defending to the death, I mean?" asked Anthea.
"We ought to be heavily armed--and then shoot at them when they advanceto the attack."
"They used to pour boiling lead down on besiegers when they got tooclose," said Anthea. "Father showed me the holes on purpose for pouringit down through at Bodiam Castle. And there are holes like it in thegate-tower here."
"I think I'm glad it's only a game; it _is_ only a game, isn't it?" saidJane.
But no one answered.
The children found plenty of strange weapons in the castle, and if theywere armed at all it was soon plain that they would be, as Cyril said,"armed heavily"--for these swords and lances and crossbows were far tooweighty even for Cyril's manly strength; and as for the longbows, noneof the children could even begin to bend them. The daggers were better;but Jane hoped that the besiegers would not come close enough fordaggers to be of any use.
"Never mind, we can hurl them like javelins," said Cyril, "or drop themon people's heads. I say--there are lots of stones on the other side ofthe courtyard. If we took some of those up? Just to drop on their headsif they were to try swimming the moat."
So a heap of stones grew apace, up in the room above the gate; andanother heap, a shiny spiky dangerous-looking heap, of daggers andknives.
As Anthea was crossing the courtyard for more stones, a sudden andvaluable idea came to her.
She went to Martha and said, "May we have just biscuits for tea? We'regoing to play at besieged castles, and we'd like the biscuits toprovision the garrison. Put mine in my pocket, please, my hands are sodirty. And I'll tell the others to fetch theirs."
This was indeed a happy thought, for now with four generous handfuls ofair, which turned to biscuits as Martha crammed it into their pockets,the garrison was well provisioned till sundown.
They brought up some iron pots of cold water to pour on the besiegersinstead of hot lead, with which the castle did not seem to be provided.
The afternoon passed with wonderful quickness. It was very exciting; butnone of them, except Robert, could feel all the time that this was realdeadly dangerous work. To the others, who had only seen the camp and thebesiegers from a distance, the whole thing seemed half a game ofmake-believe, and half a splendidly distinct and perfectly safe dream.But it was only now and then that Robert could feel this.
When it seemed to be tea-time the biscuits were eaten, with water fromthe deep well in the courtyard, drunk out of horns. Cyril insisted onputting by eight of the biscuits, in case anyone should feel faint instress of battle.
Just as he was putting away the reserve biscuits in a sort of littlestone cupboard without a door, a sudden sound made him drop three. Itwas the loud fierce cry of a trumpet.
"You see it _is_ real," said Robert, "and they are going to attack."
All rushed to the narrow windows.
"Yes," said Robert, "they're all coming out of their tents and movingabout like ants. There's that Jakin dancing about where the bridgejoins on. I wish he could see me put my tongue out at him! Yah!"
The others were far too pale to wish to put their tongues out atanybody. They looked at Robert with surprised respect. Anthea said--
"You really _are_ brave, Robert."
"Rot!" Cyril's pallor turned to redness now, all in a minute. "He's beengetting ready to be brave all the afternoon. And I wasn't ready, that'sall. I shall be braver than he is in half a jiffy."
"Oh dear!" said Jane, "what does it matter which of you is the bravest?I think Cyril was a perfect silly to wish for a castle, and I don't wantto play."
"It _isn't_"--Robert was beginning sternly, but Anthea interrupted--
"Oh yes, you do," she said coaxingly; "it's a very nice game, really,because they can't possibly get in, an
d if they do the women andchildren are always spared by civilised armies."
"But are you quite, quite sure they _are_ civilised?" asked Jane,panting. "They seem to be such a long time ago."
"Of course they are." Anthea pointed cheerfully through the narrowwindow. "Why, look at the little flags on their lances, how bright theyare--and how fine the leader is! Look, that's him--isn't it, Robert?--onthe gray horse."
Jane consented to look, and the scene was almost too pretty to bealarming. The green turf, the white tents, the flash of pennoned lances,the gleam of armour, and the bright colours of scarf and tunic--it wasjust like a splendid coloured picture. The trumpets were sounding, andwhen the trumpeters stopped for breath the children could hear thecling-clang of armour and the murmur of voices.
A trumpeter came forward to the edge of the moat, which now seemed verymuch narrower than at first, and blew the longest and loudest blast theyhad yet heard. When the blaring noise had died away, a man who was withthe trumpeter shouted--
"What ho, within there!" and his voice came plainly to the garrison inthe gate-house.
"Hullo there!" Robert bellowed back at once.
"In the name of our Lord the King, and of our good lord and trustyleader Sir Wulfric de Talbot, we summon this castle to surrender--onpain of fire and sword and no quarter. Do ye surrender?"
"_No_" bawled Robert; "of course we don't! Never, _Never, NEVER_!"
The man answered back--
"Then your fate be on your own heads."
"Cheer," said Robert in a fierce whisper. "Cheer to show them we aren'tafraid, and rattle the daggers to make more noise. One, two, three! Hip,hip, hooray! Again--Hip, hip, hooray! One more--Hip, hip, hooray!" Thecheers were rather high and weak, but the rattle of the daggers lentthem strength and depth.
There was another shout from the camp across the moat--and then thebeleaguered fortress felt that the attack had indeed begun.
It was getting rather dark in the room above the great gate, and Janetook a very little courage as she remembered that sunset _couldn't_ befar off now.
"The moat is dreadfully thin," said Anthea.
"But they can't get into the castle even if they do swim over," saidRobert. And as he spoke he heard feet on the stair outside--heavy feetand the clang of steel. No one breathed for a moment. The steel and thefeet went on up the turret stairs. Then Robert sprang softly to thedoor. He pulled off his shoes.
"Wait here," he whispered, and stole quickly and softly after the bootsand the spur-clank. He peeped into the upper room. The man wasthere--and it was Jakin, all dripping with moat-water, and he wasfiddling about with the machinery which Robert felt sure worked thedrawbridge. Robert banged the door suddenly, and turned the great key inthe lock, just as Jakin sprang to the inside of the door. Then he toredownstairs and into the little turret at the foot of the tower where thebiggest window was.
"We ought to have defended _this_!" he cried to the others as theyfollowed him. He was just in time. Another man had swum over, and hisfingers were on the window-ledge. Robert never knew how the man hadmanaged to climb up out of the water. But he saw the clinging fingers,and hit them as hard as he could with an iron bar that he caught up fromthe floor. The man fell with a splash into the moat-water. In anothermoment Robert was outside the little room, had banged its door and wasshooting home the enormous bolts, and calling to Cyril to lend a hand.
The man fell with a splash into the moat-water]
Then they stood in the arched gate-house, breathing hard and looking ateach other.
Jane's mouth was open.
"Cheer up, Jenny," said Robert,--"it won't last much longer."
There was a creaking above, and something rattled and shook. Thepavement they stood on seemed to tremble. Then a crash told them thatthe drawbridge had been lowered to its place.
"That's that beast Jakin," said Robert. "There's still the portcullis;I'm almost certain that's worked from lower down."
And now the drawbridge rang and echoed hollowly to the hoofs of horsesand the tramp of armed men.
"Up--quick!" cried Robert,--"let's drop things on them."
Even the girls were feeling almost brave now. They followed Robertquickly, and under his directions began to drop stones out through thelong narrow windows. There was a confused noise below, and some groans.
"Oh dear!" said Anthea, putting down the stone she was just going todrop out, "I'm afraid we've hurt somebody!"
Robert caught up the stone in a fury.
"I should hope we _had_!" he said; "I'd give something for a jolly goodboiling kettle of lead. Surrender, indeed!"
And now came more tramping and a pause, and then the thundering thump ofthe battering-ram. And the little room was almost pitch dark.
"We've held it," cried Robert, "we _won't_ surrender! The sun _must_ setin a minute. Here--they're all jawing underneath again. Pity there's notime to get more stones! Here, pour that water down on them. It's nogood, of course, but they'll hate it."
"Oh dear!" said Jane, "don't you think we'd better surrender?"
"Never!" said Robert; "we'll have a parley if you like, but we'll neversurrender. Oh, I'll be a soldier when I grow up--you just see if Idon't. I won't go into the Civil Service, whatever anyone says."
"Let's wave a handkerchief and ask for a parley," Jane pleaded. "I don'tbelieve the sun's going to set to-night at all."
"Give them the water first--the brutes!" said the bloodthirsty Robert.So Anthea tilted the pot over the nearest lead-hole, and poured. Theyheard a splash below, but no one below seemed to have felt it. And againthe ram battered the great door. Anthea paused.
Anthea tilted the pot over the nearest lead-hole]
"How idiotic," said Robert, lying flat on the floor and putting one eyeto the lead-hole. "Of course the holes go straight down into thegate-house--that's for when the enemy has got past the door and theportcullis, and almost all is lost. Here, hand me the pot." He crawledon to the three-cornered window-ledge in the middle of the wall, and,taking the pot from Anthea, poured the water out through the arrow-slit.
And as he began to pour, the noise of the battering-ram and thetrampling of the foe and the shouts of "Surrender!" and "De Talbot forever!" all suddenly stopped and went out like the snuff of a candle; thelittle dark room seemed to whirl round and turn topsy-turvy, and whenthe children came to themselves there they were, safe and sound, in thebig front bedroom of their own house--the house with the ornamentalnightmare iron-top to the roof.
They all crowded to the window and looked out. The moat and the tentsand the besieging force were all gone--and there was the garden with itstangle of dahlias and marigolds and asters and later roses, and thespiky iron railings and the quiet white road.
Everyone drew a deep breath.
"And that's all right!" said Robert. "I told you so! And, I say, wedidn't surrender, did we?"
"Aren't you glad now I wished for a castle?" asked Cyril.
"I think I am _now_," said Anthea slowly. "But I wouldn't wish for itagain, I think, Squirrel dear!"
"Oh, it was simply splendid!" said Jane unexpectedly. "I wasn'tfrightened a bit."
"Oh, I say!" Cyril was beginning, but Anthea stopped him.
"Look here," she said, "it's just come into my head. This is the veryfirst thing we've wished for that hasn't got us into a row. And therehasn't been the least little scrap of a row about this. Nobody's ragingdownstairs, we're safe and sound, we've had an awfully jolly day--atleast, not jolly exactly, but you know what I mean. And we know now howbrave Robert is--and Cyril too, of course," she added hastily, "andJane as well. And we haven't got into a row with a single grown-up."
The door was opened suddenly and fiercely.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourselves," said the voice of Martha, andthey could tell by her voice that she was very angry indeed. "I thoughtyou couldn't last through the day without getting up to some mischief! Aperson can't take a breath of air on the front doorstep but you must beemptying the water jug on their h
eads! Off you go to bed, the lot ofyou, and try to get up better children in the morning. Now then--don'tlet me have to tell you twice. If I find any of you not in bed in tenminutes I'll let you know it, that's all! A new cap, and everything!"
She flounced out amid a disregarded chorus of regrets and apologies. Thechildren were very sorry, but really it was not their faults.
You can't help it if you are pouring water on a besieging foe, and yourcastle suddenly changes into your house--and everything changes with itexcept the water, and that happens to fall on somebody else's clean cap.
"I don't know why the water didn't change into nothing, though," saidCyril.
"Why should it?" asked Robert. "Water's water all the world over."
"I expect the castle well was the same as ours in the stable-yard," saidJane. And that was really the case.
"I thought we couldn't get through a wish-day without a row," saidCyril; "it was much too good to be true. Come on, Bobs, my militaryhero. If we lick into bed sharp she won't be so furious, and perhapsshe'll bring us up some supper. I'm jolly hungry! Good-night, kids."
"Good-night. I hope the castle won't come creeping back in the night,"said Jane.
"Of course it won't," said Anthea briskly, "but Martha will--not in thenight, but in a minute. Here, turn round, I'll get that knot out of yourpinafore strings."
"Wouldn't it have been degrading for Sir Wulfric de Talbot," said Janedreamily, "if he could have known that half the besieged garrison worepinafores?"
"And the other half knickerbockers. Yes--frightfully. Do standstill--you're only tightening the knot," said Anthea.
