d, as of some
one expiring his pent-up breath.

Then a soft, cat-like step was heard, and Roy said to himself--

"It seems as if Master Pawson's punishment has begun."

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

THE USE OF A POWDER-MAGAZINE.

Roy found, as the time glided on in his monotonous life, that Ben's news
was correct. General Hepburn was determined not to be surprised by any
party of the Royalists who had learned from the fugitives that such a
passage existed; and to make assurance doubly sure, he was about to
build up the tunnel in three different places; but on second thoughts he
did otherwise, setting his men to work to carry kegs of powder to some
distance from the castle, placing them in a suitable position in the
tunnel, and then, after making a fuse of several yards in length, having
a tremendously strong wall built up across the place, leaving a hole
just big enough for the fuse to pass through.

This was all done very quietly, Roy supposing that the men were merely
building. Then a few days were allowed to pass for the cement to settle
and harden before the fuse was fired.

The fact was known one morning at breakfast, when a terrific roar made
Roy rush from the table and up to the ramparts, in full expectation of
seeing a battery of guns just opening fire on the castle.

"Yes, it is," he panted to himself as he looked over towards the chapel
hill, and saw the smoke rising from a mound of earth.

But in a few minutes he knew the truth from one of the officers who
challenged him for coming there, and went back to breakfast with his
appetite gone, for he felt that one of the means of escape was
completely sealed up, and the night would never come when he could, with
the help of his friends, lead Lady Royland through the passage on their
way to liberty.

"And a good thing, too," he said bitterly to the old sergeant, for the
grapes seemed to be very sour. "I don't want to escape. I wouldn't go
if the way were open, and I'm sure my mother would not leave our own old
home. Why, it would be like giving it all to Pawson, and I'll die
before he shall have it in peace."

"'Ray, 'ray, 'ray, 'ray!" cried Ben, softly. "Can't shout it out as I
should like to, Master Roy. That's the right sperit, sir. We won't
never give up, come what may."

Old Jenk passed them just then, muttering to himself as he tottered by,
and paying no heed when spoken to, while the various sentries treated
him as a kind of amiable old ma