dragged out a heavy box, and, throwing back the lid, disclosed a store of weapons.

"Here, Master Markham, is a fine piece of steel," he exclaimed, handing me a sword in a black scabbard of Spanish leather. "Draw it, and try its temper."

An indescribable feeling of pleasure possessed me as I handled the blade, which, even in the dim candle-light, flashed like a thousand diamonds.

"Don't be afraid of it," said the armourer as I cautiously bent the steel with my hands. "A better piece of steel was never welded. See!"

And, taking the beautiful weapon from me, he bent the tempered blade till the point touched the guard, letting it fly back to its natural position.

"'Tis just suited to your height and strength, Master Markham, for a greater mistake cannot be made than to give a man a heavier sword than he can profitably wield; and, moreover, I pray you, remember it has a point. I'll show you what I mean."

So saying, he placed a small cube of oak upon a heavy stool, and, retaining the light weapon, he gave me a heavy broadsword.

"Now, young master, mind the beam overhead, and make a shrewd stroke at that junk of wood."

Grasping the broadsword, I raised my arm till the point touched the beam, then, putting all my strength into the blow, I struck at the wooden block. The next instant the blade had sunk deep into the stool on which the block had been standing; but, to my surprise, the block itself was nowhere to be seen.

"Well," asked the armourer, laughing, "where is the junk of oak?"

"Truly, I know not, unless I have shorn it in two! My arm aches with the force of the blow."

"Did I not tell you that this weapon had a point?" he exclaimed, producing the light sword, on which the cube was firmly fixed. "'Tis what might have happened in actual fight. Whilst you were bringing the heavy blade down I pinked the wood with the light one, and you were not one whit the wiser. Now, take the weapon, and remember the words they engrave on trusty blades, 'Never sheath me, save in honour.' Here, too, is a sword for your friend, not quite so fine as yours, but a goodly blade withal. And here are a brace of small pistols apiece, with a score of charges in a waterproof case. How are you going to cross over?" he added.

In a few words I told him.

"Capitally planned," he exclaimed. "Cripps, the waterman, was one of those rogues who would have despoiled anybody of his stock. You know the channel?"

"Passably."

"'Tis easy; keep well in the centre, and you'll not go far wrong. 'Twill be high water at one hour before midnight, but, when you get to Cowes Castle, drop anchor and pretend to fish till you see the tide making to the east'ard. A matter of five or six hours that'll be; but 'twill be no use starting before, and then you'll have a fair tide right the whole way over. What place do you make for?"

"Portsmouth, I hope."

"They say the place is assailed by the rebels, though perchance they do not keep a strict blockade." A few more words of good advice, and we took our leave of the kindly armourer, who also provided us with food; then, walking boldly through the now deserted streets, we came to the quay.

CHAPTER II

COLONEL NICHOLAS FIRESTONE

NEARLY a score of boats of various sizes were moored to the quay, their outlines barely discernible against the placid surface of the dark water.

Handing my sword to my companion, I carefully lowered myself into the nearest boat, and made my way slowly from one to the other, till I found the one we sought.

Fortunately, the oars had been left on board, and, what was more, a small sail rolled round a short mast lay on the thwarts. The craft, though barely fifteen feet in length, had plenty of beam, so that, although cumbersome to row, it would doubtless prove an able boat under sail.

As I had had considerable experience in the art of managing a boat, having frequently made short voyages with the fishermen during the holidays, I had no misgivings as to the handling of this craft, although Granville did not regard my capabilities in the same light as I did.

"Hasten," I whispered, fearful lest some belated passer-by might overhear us; "jump in, and cast off that rope."

It was the work of a few moments to stow the arms carefully away, unfasten the rope that held the boat to the side of the quay, and to push off. Then, by dint of slow and careful strokes, we urged the heavy craft towards the centre of the channel, and pointed its bow in the direction of Cowes.

A few minutes' steady rowing sufficed to take us clear of the buildings lining the quay, and, looking astern, our eyes becoming more accustomed to the darkness, we could see the tower of St. Thomas' Church standing out against the blackness of the night.

Not a sound came from the town, save the occasional barking of a dog; but in the direction of Carisbrooke a subdued roar, like the distant sound of waves breaking on the shore, came faintly to our ears, and from the summit of the keep we could discern the flare of the wood fires as the garrison plied the cressets with more fuel.

"They lie thick around the castle," remarked Ralph. "And spare not their lungs though it seems that they have not yet opened the attack."

"No," I replied, "I can hear no sounds of ordnance. Perchance they are afraid to attempt an escalade, for 'tis certain Colonel Brett will not hesitate to fire on the rebels, should they draw nigh the walls."

After all, it was better for us that fate, or, rather, the spin of a coin, decided against our throwing in our lot with the garrison of Carisbrooke, for we afterwards learnt that there were but three days' provisions, and but four small barrels of powder within the fortress, the garrison of which was composed mostly of invalided and wounded soldiers from the Scottish wars. So it came about that the valiant Countess of Portland appeared on the ramparts with a lighted match in her hand, and threatened to fire the first cannon on the rebels, and to hold the castle to the last extremity, unless she and the garrison were permitted to march out with all the honours of war. The rebels, little knowing the weakness of the defenders, and probably glad of the opportunity of foregoing the risk of combat, gladly agreed to the Countess' terms, and on the following day the garrison retired in good order to Yarmouth.

The tide was now running out, yet, in spite of steady labouring at the heavy oars, it was a matter of nearly two hours ere we reached the mouth of the river, where the two castles of Cowes kept watch and ward, though whether for or against the King we knew not.

Mindful of the armourer's warning, we cast anchor close to the edge of a mud-bank, and waited till the tide turned, for there was little or no wind, so that 'twould have been a forlorn hope to attempt to stem the adverse current.

For over an hour, as it seemed (for we were unable to measure the time), we lay thus, talking of the future, yet during that space neither did the tide show signs of slackening, nor did the dawn commence to show in the east.

Suddenly, through the darkness, came the flashes of muskets, fired in quick succession, and a babel of voices at no great distance, while a bullet whistled above our heads, causing us to lie cowering under the frail shelter of our boat's side.

Other shots came at intervals, till at length the firing ceased, and we summoned sufficient courage to sit up and look around.

"What's amiss?" asked Granville.

"Nay, I cannot tell," I replied, "unless it be that one of the castles has been attempted."

"The firing was too close for that," he rejoined. "Much too close to my liking."

"And mine also."

We relapsed into silence, straining our ears for every sound. Presently we heard above the confused noise of men's voices the creaking of tackle and the sound of oars being thrown into a boat.