Charlie Tregarthen had enough to do at the window. After he
had tumbled Bill out, as we have described, two of the other men sprang
at him, and, seizing him by the collar of his coat, attempted to drag
him out. One of these he succeeded in overthrowing by a kick on the
chest, but his place was instantly taken by the third of the bearers of
the battering-ram, and for a few minutes the struggle was fierce but
undecided. Suddenly there arose a great shout, and all three tumbled
head over heels into the shrubbery.

It was at this moment that Oliver rose from his prostrate foe. He at
once sprang to the rescue; leaped out of the window, and was in the act
of launching a blow at the head of the first man he encountered, when a
voice shouted,--"Hold on, sur."

It is certain that Oliver would have declined to hold on, had not the
voice sounded familiar. He held his hand, and next moment Charlie
appeared in the light of the window dragging a struggling man after him
by the nape of the neck. At the same time Joe Tonkin came forward
trailing another man by the hair of the head.

"Has Cuttance got off?" inquired Tonkin.

"No," replied Oliver, leaping back into the room, just in time to
prevent Jim, who had recovered, from making his escape.

"Now, my man, keep quiet," said Oliver, thrusting him down into a chair.
"You and I have met before, and you know that it is useless to attempt
resistance."

Cuttance vouchsafed no reply, but sat still with a dogged expression on
his weather-beaten visage.

Hitchin, whose nerves were much shaken by the scene of which he had been
a trembling spectator, soon produced ropes, with which the prisoners
were bound, and then they were conducted to a place of safe keeping--
each of the victors leading the man he had secured, and old Hitchin
going before--an excited advance-guard. The two men whom Tregarthen
knocked down had recovered, and made their escape just before the fight
closed.

Oliver Trembath walked first in the procession, leading Jim Cuttance.

"I gave you credit for a more manly spirit than this," said Oliver, as
he walked along. "How could you make so cowardly an attack on an old
man?"

Cuttance made no reply, and Oliver felt sorry that he had spoken, for
the remembrance of the incident at the Land's End was strong upon him,
and he would have given all he possessed to have had no hand in
delivering the smuggler up to justice. At the same time he felt that
the attempt o