castle easier to take than to hold. But when it is your own castle, it seems as if every stone that is dislodged is one of your own bones being taken out, and any injury to the castle affects you as if one of your own family is lying sick. We are always hopeful that a neighbor will recover, but we are never so cheerful about an invalid of our own flesh and blood. Cheer up, Edgar Mortimer,—we have many a task for the Count and his men before they shall set foot within the Castle of the Red Lion! But we must imagine the worst in order to insure the best. So far we have inflicted some loss on the enemy, and we have not lost a man, nor have they even come across the moat."
Edgar felt the force of this reasoning, but found it hard to sit quietly indoors talking, when he could hear outside the blows of great sledges, axes, and picks preparing engines to batter down his walls and towers. He had always rejoiced to hear the tales and songs of troubadours, telling of battles and sieges, but he found the reality much more ex- citing, and not nearly so enjoyable. But he spoke up bravely:
"Let us go on with our talk, my friends. If I cannot lend much help to your plans, I can at least give you my confidence, and keep up a brave heart."
Hugh then explained to the Friar his purpose of
