"They were going over to Dexham for a holiday, all but them as was
hurt," whispered Dummy. "Come on and help, or the robbers'll get in."

A pang shot through Mark, and he grasped the handle of his pick firmly,
ready for a dash, but the feeling that it would be utter madness kept
him back. For he knew that even if he could strike down two of the
attacking party, they must succumb to the others, and they would have
done no good.

It was all plain enough. Purlrose must have gained the information that
the mine people were away, and that Sir Edward would be almost without
defenders, and, out of revenge for the previous night's attack, have
seized the opportunity for a reprisal.

"Why, Dummy," he whispered, with his lips close to the other's ear, "if
they take the castle, they'll keep it, and turn us out."

"Yes, and grab the mine," said the boy hoarsely. "Well, we mustn't let
'em."

_Bang_, _bang_, came the reports of a couple of arquebuses from one of
the windows, but no harm was done, and the men answered with a derisive
cheer and continued their battering of the door, which still resisted
their efforts.

Another shot was fired, but still without effect, and Mark ground his
teeth together as he felt the impotency of his father's efforts now that
the enemy had stolen in beyond the gates that would have been admirable
for defence.

"Well, aren't you going to do something, Master Mark?"

"What can I do, Dummy?" cried the lad, in despair. "We might shut these
gates, and defend them."

"Yes, so we could; but what's the good?"

Just then there was a quick flash and a sharp roar close to the doorway,
and in the bright light the lads saw the men drop the beam and run back;
but no one was hurt, and in answer to a roar of orders from their
leader, the enemy seized the beam again and began to drive it against
the centre of the great door.

"Running away from that," roared Purlrose; "handful of powder rolled up
in a bag and thrown at you! Down with it! they've got no more."

"Yes, they have," whispered Dummy, excitedly. "Here, Master Mark,
quick!"

Mark grasped the idea, without explanation, and ran back with his
companion, leaving the shouting, cursing, and firing behind, to descend
with him to the mouth of the mine, and then downward to the big stone
shed, where Dummy tore open the great oaken closet, and drew out a bag
of the coarse blasting-powder used in the mine.

"Feel in that box, Master Mark; that'