dwelling, in two stories, stretched to the fields, and had a
veranda-covered rear.

Van Dorn called to a negro:

"Buck Ransom!"

"Politely, Captain," the negro's insinuating voice answered.

"Go to the front door and knock. As you enter, see that it is clear to
fly open. Then, as you pass along the hall, throw the windows up."

"Politely, Captain;" the negro bowed and departed.

"Owen Daw!"

"Yer honor!"

"Climb into the big tulip-tree softly and take this musket I shall reach
you. Train it on the staircase window, and fire only if you see
resistance there."

The boy went up the tree with all his vicious instincts full of fight.

"Melson!"

"Ay yi!"

"Milman!"

"Ah! boy."

"Get yourselves beneath the two large windows on the hall and serve as
mounting-blocks to Sorden's party. I shall storm the main door. As we
enter there, Sorden, order your men right over Melson and Milman into
the windows Ransom has lifted."

"I love him," muttered Sorden, admiringly, "as I never loved A male,"
and collected his party.

"Whitecar, you and your brother hold the back door with your staves. If
it is forced, Miles Tindel--"

"Tackle 'em, Cap'n Van!"

"Will throw his red-pepper dust into the eyes of any that come out."

"Oh, tackle 'em, Cap'n Van!"

"Derrick Molleston!"

"See me, O see me!" the powerful negro muttered.

"Take Herron and Vincent, and two more, and guard the kitchen and the
front of the main dwelling. Knock any creature stiff, except--_ayme!
ay!_--the young damsels, whose fears will soon trip them to the ground."

"See me, see me!" the negro hoarsely said.

"As we enter the door, I shall cry, 'Patty Cannon has come!' Then spring
in the windows and beat opposition down. _Relampaguea!_ Ransom is slow."

The knocker on the great door sounded, and it sprang open and quickly
slammed again, and a stifled, strange sound followed, as of a scuffle.

Van Dorn, agile as a panther, sprang on Milman's back and looked into a
window in the gable, drawing his face away, so as to be unseen in the
night.

The bright interior was full of people, sitting back against the
wainscoting, as if listening to a sermon, while down the middle of the
stately hall stretched a table lighted by whale-oil lamps and many
little candles, and filled with the remnants of a feast. The stairway in
the corner Van Dorn could not see, and there the dusky audience was all
facing, as if towards the preacher. There seemed a somethin