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Updated: July 25, 2025
"What is it?" said Ralph, making a dimple on the toe of his boot with his sword point. "Well, it's this," said Mark; "and mind, I'm speaking to you as an enemy." "Of course," said Ralph. "Old Master Rayburn said to me, that as my father did not put a stop to the doings of this Captain Purlrose, I ought to do it." "That's exactly what he said to me."
Sir Morton hesitated and turned his head, to find his son watching him keenly, while Captain Purlrose stood with his left hand resting on the hilt of his sword, making the scabbard cock out behind, and lift up the back of his ragged cloak, as with his right he twisted up and pointed one side of his rusty-grey fierce moustache.
I will neither help you nor have any further dealings with you. Go." "What!" roared Purlrose; and this time he drew his sword fully, and Ralph's bright blade followed suit, glittering, while the captain's looked rusty and dull. "Pooh! put up your sword, Ralph," said Sir Morton, advancing toward their visitor, who began to shrink back.
"Hah! More insults," cried Purlrose, who had caught a word here and there. "But no; lie still, good sword: he is a beardless boy, and the son of the brave comrade I always honoured, whate'er my faults." Ralph turned upon him angrily; but his father laid a hand upon the boy's shoulder, and pressed it hard. "Right, Ralph, lad," he said warmly, and he looked proudly in the boy's eyes.
"We must put it down to Purlrose," said Mark bitterly, as he ran back for a moment to speak to Ralph. "But what do you say oughtn't we to have our duel now?" "If you like," said Ralph listlessly; "Perhaps we'd better, and then I may be half killed. My father may be a little merciful to me then."
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.
That's Captain Purlrose upon the stone, and he's making signals again." The wide ring of men saw the signs made by the burly figure above, and they all wrapped their cloaks round their left arms, and then drew their swords. "Then they do mean to fight," cried Mark excitedly. "Yes, but they don't come on. I say: you're not going to let them take you prisoner, are you?"
Once upon a time there was only the Darleys to mind. Now these people this Captain Purlrose and his men seem to belong to the land, and father will not fight them. Oh, if I only were master, what I would do! There, canter, and let's get home. I want to think."
"Look here, Nick: do you want to rout out Captain Purlrose and his gang?" "Do I want to, Master Ralph? Do I want to get his head under a stone, and sarve it like I would a nut? Yes, I doos." "Then pick the men. Bind them to be silent, and meet me as soon as the lights are all out. Will you do this?" "Won't I?" said the man exultantly; "and won't we? Master Ralph, sir, I am proud on you.
Ralph looked on and listened, as a low growl arose; but, bully and coward or no, it was evident that Captain Purlrose was master of his men, who stood listening and nodding their heads, one or two slapping the hilts of their swords menacingly, and at last the leader of the ragged crew turned and shook his fist threateningly at the house, and ended by striding jauntily away through the embattled gateway, followed by his gang.
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