minute, and when I throw, you duck
yourself down, or you might get burnt."

Dummy took hold of the burning cord with his left hand, the bag with his
right, pressing his companion out of the road, and then standing
twitching the sparkling fuse, which was only a few inches away from the
powder in the bag.

"I've often seen it done," he whispered.

A shout came up from the little court, for the followers of Captain
Purlrose had again driven their battering ram through the great door,
and a shout of defiance came back from the hall from a few voices, among
which Mark recognised his father's; but he could not turn from that
sparkling piece of line to glance over the stony battlement to see what
was being done. His eyes were fascinated, and nothing could have
withdrawn them then.

He had proved again and again that he was no coward, but a great terror
chained him now, and his voice trembled as he panted out:

"Quick--quick; throw--throw!"

"Nay, not yet. I'm watching of it. Father always waits till there's
on'y about an inch, to make sure it'll go off."

There was not much more as he spoke, and just then, in obedience to an
order from their captain, the men drew back from the doorway, balancing
the beam swung between them, as, four on each side now, it hung from
their hands, and backing till they were past the spot where the pair
were crouching.

"Now, all together, my brave boys," cried Purlrose; "a good run, and
down goes the door. Off!"

The order answered for Dummy as well as the men, and feeling now that he
had waited too long, the boy swung the bag over the battlement. The
passage through the air increased the sparkling of the fuse, and before
it touched the pavement, a few feet in front of the men starting for
their run, there was a wondrous flash of light, a fierce wind drove the
two lads backward, and then came a deafening roar, mingled with the
breaking of glass, a yell of horror, and as the roof still quivered
beneath the lads' feet they heard the rush of men through the gateway,
across the next court, and through the outer opening on to the bridge,
and then down the first slope.

"Come on!" cried Dummy, running to the low doorway of the gate-tower,
where he picked up the other powder-bag, and, hardly knowing what he
did, Mark followed him down the winding stair into the gateway.

"Come on!" cried Dummy again, and Mark still followed, across the outer
court and the first gateway, grasping the pic