t House stood not far from the rough forest road. Externally, it
was a compact rectangle of red stone, flanked at each corner by a round
tower, pierced for archery and battlemented at the top. Within, it
enclosed a narrow court. The moat was perhaps twelve feet wide, crossed
by a single drawbridge. It was supplied with water by a trench, leading
to a forest pool and commanded, through its whole length, from the
battlements of the two southern towers. Except that one or two tall and
thick trees had been suffered to remain within half a bowshot of the
walls, the house was in a good posture for defence.

In the court, Dick found a part of the garrison, busy with preparations
for defence, and gloomily discussing the chances of a siege. Some were
making arrows, some sharpening swords that had long been disused; but
even as they worked, they shook their heads.

Twelve of Sir Daniel's party had escaped the battle, run the gauntlet
through the wood, and come alive to the Moat House. But out of this
dozen, three had been gravely wounded: two at Risingham in the disorder
of the rout, one by John Amend-All's marksmen as he crossed the forest.
This raised the force of the garrison, counting Hatch, Sir Daniel, and
young Shelton, to twenty-two effective men. And more might be
continually expected to arrive. The danger lay not therefore in the lack
of men.

It was the terror of the Black Arrow that oppressed the spirits of the
garrison. For their open foes of the party of York, in these most
changing times, they felt but a far-away concern. "The world," as people
said in those days, "might change again" before harm came. But for their
neighbours in the wood, they trembled. It was not Sir Daniel alone who
was a mark for hatred. His men, conscious of impunity, had carried
themselves cruelly through all the country. Harsh commands had been
harshly executed; and of the little band that now sat talking in the
court, there was not one but had been guilty of some act of oppression or
barbarity. And now, by the fortune of war, Sir Daniel had become
powerless to protect his instruments; now, by the issue of some hours of
battle, at which many of them had not been present, they had all become
punishable traitors to the State, outside the buckler of the law, a
shrunken company in a poor fortress that was hardly tenable, and exposed
upon all sides to the just resentment of their victims. Nor had there
been lacking grisly advert